But What About that Verse?

Some thoughts on that verse and that one too

My verse is better than yours.

Yep, that debate was pretty easy. You thought you had me there, didn’t you, but then I hit you with the one, two Corinthians, and you never saw it coming.

After all, I was trained in the art of sword drills from the time I was in cloth diapers.

Basic instructions before leaving earth, and I know ‘em like the back of my hand.

But you do too, and you are just as sincere, love God just as much, and care as much about truth as I do. (I used to not assume that about you, but I try to now.)

Yet it’s your word against mine. Your verse agains mine. My context versus yours.

And if I don’t like what yours says because it seems to contradict mine, then it’s probably because your heart isn’t in it, or you’re taking it out of context, or you just don’t understand how this one Greek word actually has five different meanings and it isn’t the one you think it is.

And we strive and we strive to be consistent, but we forget that the Bible is such a big book, and our brains are so, so small.

We take the passages and categorize them: literal or figurative, law or narrative, history or prophecy, and if you’re super li-buh-rul, then you might even use form criticism or (gasp) JEDP or who knows what.

And then when we have them all sorted, we come up with some charts, write a few books, preach a few sermons, and slap a label on our new system. Calvinism, Preterism, Arminianism… isms galore.

And my ism is better than yours.

And mine actually isn’t an ism at all because mine’s from the Bible.

And this verse over there and that passage over there and this one here are all saying that I’m right and you’re wrong.

You want a hurts donut? Because it hurts, don’t it?

And so our churches divide, and friends get mad at each other, and families break up, and preachers get fired, and books get written, and books get burned, and documentaries get made about dysfunctional families, and twitter wars break out, and people get blocked on social media, and I stand up and ask why they’re so many churches, and evangelists knock on my doors, and people share conspiracy theories about random crap that doesn't matter, and then we die.

And then I look around and realize I’m the only one in heaven because I’m the only one who got it right right. And, by the way, that verse was the nail in your coffin. You should have listened.

But shouldn’t it be simpler than this?

Shouldn’t unity not be so hard?

After all, while we pollute the earth, and while the rich get richer, the poor get poorer, the politicians get older, and the needy get sold for a pair of sandals, at least I was right about this one random passage in Malachi.

But… come on, right?

Seriously?

Is it as important as we think it is? This whole being right thing? Or can’t we be content to love and be loved by God? Or should I break it down even more and say can’t we be content by being loved by God, or even being known by God? Shouldn't that be enough?

This theology that we get by treading on Scripture like grapes and wringing out our socks so no drop of juice goes astray surely isn’t all there is, right? We press and we press, we manipulate and we manipulate to make sure that everything fits perfectly because it has to. But does it really?

I love how the Bible fits together. I love the callbacks and the intertextuality. I love the echos and the allusions and the references and the quotations. It’s awesome, and I fall in love with it more and more.

But the more I read and study the Bible, the less it conforms to my assumptions and theories and systems. There are loopholes and exceptions and context that strike me as subversive and detrimental to my most-loved theories.

And so I don’t think I’m “there” yet, but I don’t know if there is a place I want to be.

Instead, I want to know God and be known by God, and I think that’s enough for me. Everything else is sugar on top.