Matthew 10:40-42
A couple of years ago, I led the Park City congregation through a year-long journey of reading the Bible. It was an exciting opportunity (we’ll be starting that next fall), but it was not without its challenges. For example, I knew that the tough part would be getting people through the book of Leviticus—not exactly scintillating reading, and it’s even a little disturbing. Get past Leviticus, and you could make it through the rest!
I’m speculating here, but perhaps the main reason many of us don’t delve into this part of the Torah, or into many of the other long legalistic passages of Scripture for that matter, is that reading all those laws, rules and regulations can become a real snooze-fest for a congregation (and a preacher).
But what if you took all those biblical rules seriously? Even better, what if you took them literally? Some folks do claim to follow the Bible in a literal sense, but is that even possible?
A.J. Jacobs, a writer who has become known for chronicling year-long experiments like reading through the whole Encyclopedia Britannica, decided to give it a try. Jacobs committed himself and, by extension, his family and friends, to a year-long experiment in living the Bible literally. The result is a humble and humorous book on his experience titled The Year of Living Biblically.
Jacobs read through the Bible for four straight weeks, five hours a day, and compiled a list of “every rule, every guideline, every suggestion, every nugget of advice” he found in both the Old and New Testaments. When he finished, he had a list that ran 72 pages with more than 700 rules. Jacobs saw that some of the rules would be good for him — things like telling the truth, not coveting, not stealing, and loving neighbors, for example. But, like those of us who wade through Leviticus and its ilk, he saw plenty of rules that didn’t seem to make people righteous at all; stuff like not eating fruit from a tree planted less than five years ago or paying the wages of a worker every day. Then there are those biblical rules that are just plain illegal today, like killing magicians and sacrificing oxen. Well, maybe the last one is okay if you call it “grilling.”
Given the wide range of rules, Jacobs had to establish some criteria for which ones he could actually follow. Like a good exegete, he figured that there were certain rules that were unquestionably figurative or symbolic, like Matthew 19:12, which is all about eunuchs, especially those who “have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven.” Jacobs decided that anything that involved voluntary donation of body parts should probably not be part of his quest. Or how about Matthew 5:27-30, where Jesus says that if your right eye or your right hand cause you to sin, you shut cut them off and throw them away. Either Jesus is speaking in hyperbole here or we should all look be looking like pirates.
Armed with a revised list and with the help of some human and written guides from both Judaism and Christianity, Jacobs adopted a new persona for the year named “Jacob” and began following the Bible as literally as possible. He grew out his beard and hair to the point that he looked like Moses, Abraham or the Unabomber, depending on your point of view. He dressed all in white (Ecclesiastes 9:8), making sure not to wear any clothing of mixed fibers (Leviticus 19:19). To be safe, he had his wardrobe examined by a shatnez tester — kind of like an orthodox Jewish CSI who looks at the fibers under a microscope. He walked around with money rubber-banded around his hand (Deuteronomy 14:25). He carried around one of those combination cane/seat things called a “Handy Stick” so that he could avoid sitting where a menstruating woman might have sat (Leviticus 15:19). He could watch TV, but he couldn’t actually turn it on so as not to have made a graven image. He “stoned” an adulterer in the park, but since the Bible doesn’t specify how big the stones are supposed to be he just tossed pebbles at an admitted (and annoyed) adulterer on a park bench. The rules that Jacobs followed, and the reactions that he and those around him had, make for a fascinating and often very funny read.
What I love about this book is that Jacobs’ experiment really is an examination of how we read Scripture. Some people will try to claim that they read it and live it literally but, again, that’s not really possible or advisable, as Jacobs found out. It’s like the guy whose way of reading the Bible was to sit by the window and let the wind blow the pages around for a few seconds, then he put his finger down on the passage and would do what it said. One day he put his finger down on Acts 1:18 – 18(With the reward he got for his wickedness, Judas bought a field; there he fell headlong, his body burst open and all his intestines spilled out.
He thought to himself, that can’t be right…Lord, show me another verse. Whereupon the wind blew the pages again and he put his finger down on Luke 10:37 – “Go and do likewise.”
When we read Scripture as simply a collection of verses, we get into trouble!
What we’re talking about here is biblical authority. John Wesley was very clear that Scripture is the primary source of life and faith, and in the Scriptures is “everything necessary for salvation.” But Wesley also understood that we all come to Scripture with our own particular lenses on of which we have to be aware. We don’t read Scripture in a vacuum, ignoring the historical and cultural context. We don’t check our brains at the door when we open the Bible. We can’t understand the witness of the Bible unless we see it worked out in our own human experience.
Wesley said that the Bible is our primary source, but that we always keep in mind tradition, reason, and experience when we read it. Tradition tells us how the church has read the Scriptures over 2000 years. Reason invites us to use our minds to discern all the aspects of the text in its context. Experience is the laboratory in which the truth of Scripture gets played out every day. The authority of Scripture lies not in the infallibility or inerrancy of the words themselves, but of the infallible reality of the God they point to.
We have to think of the Bible as a whole narrative—a story from beginning to end, a story that continues with us. The Bible is the story of God’s redemptive mission for all of creation, thus every passage of the Bible that we read is put in that context. We get into trouble when we pluck out a series of unrelated verses to prove our own theological points. We always understand that it’s the whole Bible that matters – the whole story of God.
That’s really a more Jewish way of reading the Scriptures, by the way. I have a good friend who’s a rabbi, and he’s always fascinated and a bit disturbed how many Christians will pull out verses and quote them out of context to support their position. For Jews, every verse is only important as part of the whole story. This is how Jesus read Scripture. In his day, to quote a verse from a passage was a shorthand means of quoting the whole thing. Take, for example his word from the cross: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Many people read that Scripture and speculate about how Jesus believes God has abandoned him. Did you know, however, that that’s the first line of Psalm 22? The psalm outlines the pain of one who has been rejected, but it ends with a deep trust in God’s ability to save. Rather than merely a cry of hopelessness, Jesus was crying out hope in the midst of pain and suffering. It’s all about understanding the context!
If we don’t bring in the whole witness, our use of Scripture only amounts to proof-texting. As one of my seminary profs taught us to remember:
“A text without a context is just a pretext for whatever you want it to say.”
The bottom line is that no matter what your theological bent, it’s indeed possible to commit idolatry on the Bible itself, worshiping the words instead of understanding the times and embracing the spirit (Spirit!) in which it was written. More importantly, as Christians’ we’ve been given a model of thought and behavior that transcends even written page. We have been given Jesus. If we’re looking to be literal at anything, we should be most literal in modeling our lives after his. A.J. Jacobs took on the personae of a person from the Bible’s past. We’re called to take on the personae the ever-present reality of Jesus.
Jesus’ instructions to his disciples in Matthew 10 were designed to prepare them for the missionary journeys they would undertake both during their time with Jesus and especially after his ascension. They were not to be people merely bound by rules and simply dressing the part of the righteous (that was Jesus’ critique of the Pharisees, after all). Instead, they were to act as Jesus’ own representatives by reflecting his character, mission and message to the world.
“Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me,” said Jesus (Matthew 10:40). Like ambassadors in a foreign country, the disciples were to be the embodiment of Jesus and, by association, of God, to those they would meet and live among. That association would cause the disciples a lot of grief in the form of persecution (10:16-20), alienation from family (10:21, 35-37), and even martyrdom (10:28). People steeped in their own rules, regulations and worldviews have a hard time seeing an alternative, which was precisely what Jesus was offering — a view of God’s kingdom that would upset the status quo, turning over human power structures and ushering in God’s rule of justice, love and peace. Taken literally, the disciples’ mission would be dangerous, but the results would be world-changing.
In the midst of their mission of representing Christ, the disciples were to concentrate their best and most literal efforts on modeling him in their relationships, starting with each other. There’s some debate among commentators about the role of “prophets,” the “righteous” and “little ones” in Matthew’s community (10:41-42). Perhaps the first two were specific role definitions, while “little ones” refers to what we might call the “laity” today. Whatever the role, representatives of Jesus were to welcome one another and care for one another literally and liberally with the love of Christ.
Jesus said that showing hospitality would result in “rewards” for those who modeled him. What’s that look like? When we do good deeds, follow the rules, we often expect to get something in return. Some might look at this passage and deduce that being nice to others earns you a heavenly “reward” to be cashed in when one dies and, in popular parlance, goes to heaven. But perhaps there’s a more immediate context here. The word for “reward” in Greek can also be translated as “wages due.” Being a “prophet,” for example, was no easy task. In fact, Matthew sees the prophetic ministry as being somewhat problematic, with prophets experiencing persecution (5:12), being unwelcome (13:57), and facing death at the hand of those who don’t want to hear the message they bring (23:30-37).
In that context, a “prophet’s reward” may be a kind of backhanded compliment. If the prophet, representing Jesus, gets maligned by others, it’s a sign that he (or she) is probably doing it right and earning the proper wage! By contrast, the wages of a righteous person in Matthew’s gospel are paid in receiving the kingdom (13:43, 49; 25:34-40) and in “eternal life” (25:46). If you’re really modeling Jesus and taking him literally at his word, you’re going to receive “rewards” that reflect the very same things he experienced. We can’t truly represent Jesus without experiencing both persecution and suffering on the one hand and the power of resurrection on the other. There’s no crown without a cross (10:38).
Of all the items on the biblical rotisserie we can grab and be nourished on, however, perhaps the most important one is compassion. Giving a “cup of cold water” is a simple act, but it’s those simple acts of kindness, compassion and obedience that best represent Jesus in our everyday lives (10:42). In our quest to be “people of the Book,” we have to realize that we can never be outside the rules when we lead with love.
Methodists, following John Wesley’s lead, are a “people of one book.” We understand that book and its witness primarily through the person of Jesus—God in the flesh—whose story is revealed there. Jesus came to fulfill the Law and the prophets – to embody the word. We do our best work with Scripture when we embody it in the image of Christ, rather than merely debating and studying it to find our own agendas.
To put it another way, if the “one thing” that matters is renewal in the image of God, the we must understand that the Scriptures give us the story of how that renewal takes place, and what it looks like—it looks a lot like Jesus! The Word became flesh in Jesus, and that same word, God’s Word, needs to become flesh in us—a people who perfectly love and glorify God, a people who are always leading with grace.
A.J. Jacobs learned from his year-long experiment that even as an agnostic there was a lot he could learn from taking on the character and lifestyle of a biblically based person. Says Jacobs, “The experience changed me in big ways and small ways. There’s a lot about gratefulness in the Bible, and I would say I’m more thankful. I focus on the hundred little things that go right in a day, instead of the three or four things that go wrong. And I love the Sabbath. There’s something I really like about a forced day of rest … I also really liked what one of my spiritual advisers said, which was that you can view life as a series of rights and entitlements, or a series of responsibilities. I like seeing my life as a series of responsibilities. It’s sort of, ‘Ask not what God can do for you, ask what you can do for God.’”
Imagine living like that not for just a year — but for the rest of your life!
I am a fierce advocate for biblical literacy and what Wesley called “Scriptural Christianity.” I want to lead our congregation into becoming a people of the Book—a people of the whole book, a people who reflect the glory of God revealed in Jesus Christ. We need to be shaped by that word. It’s not simply about more Bible knowledge, but about finding our stories within this story and then living that new reality.
When I was in Korea in February, I was impressed by the fact that Korean Methodist churches don’t have any books in the pews—everyone brings their Bible and hymnal to church with them and there’s an expectation that they’ll be using them during the week. They are a people of the Book.
You may have noticed that the Lay Readers are now using the book when they read and not just reading verses from a sheet of paper. That gives us all a visual that the passage from which they’re reading is part of the whole witness of Scripture. We put the verses up on the screen for you, but I have to admit that I’m not really a fan of that. I would like us to use our Bibles to look at the Scripture each week, because we understand every verse within a particular context. We have Bibles in the pew, but I want to encourage you to bring your own Bible to worship—get familiar with it, mark in it, hold it, carry it.
The story of Scripture is the story of God’s redemptive mission for the whole creation. We find our stories within that story. We find God’s will for us in the midst of God’s will for the whole creation. It is here that past, present, and future find meaning and hope. The book is essential, but only if we take the whole story into our hearts and become the people that it calls us back to being.
John Wesley rose early every morning to read the Scripture and it shaped who he became. Scripture was the basis for his method of living the Christian life. May it be ours as well!
