What makes Scripture inspired and authoritative?

The following piece was a presentation Dr. Joe LaGuardia gave at a recent interfaith dialogue with the Interfaith Network of the Treasure Coast. The topic of the dialogue was “Sacred Texts”..

What is it about the Bible — this text consisting of over 66 books, two testaments, and multiple genres — that makes it both the source of hope and faith for so many people across the ages and Ground Zero for conflicts that have divided communities of faith?

The Bible is a source of hope and faith. People claim that it is God’s word, infallible, inspired, and the living word of God. It has shaped people of faith and records God’s interaction with people of faith since the beginning of creation to the end of the first century AD.

But the Bible has also been a source of consternation and conflict. In my own, Baptist tradition, we have used the Bible to support slavery and oppose slavery, advocate for women in ministry and oppose women in ministry, argue that we ought to worship on the Sabbath, the seventh day of the week, or the Lord’s Day, the first day of the week. The Bible has been at the heart of every church conflict and split for centuries.

The best way to show you how Christians see the book as authoritative is to show how people of faith believe that it has been inspired directly by God since its inception. This process of inspiration and its source for the formation of the Bible reveals why it holds this kind of power in making and fashioning communities of faith.

Christians believe that God inspired the Grand Divine Story in its oral form. Well before the written word, the story of God’s people passed on from generation to generation through oral storytelling inspired by God. God’s inspiration sustained the consistency and resiliency of this story down to the time of its writing.

Christians believe that God inspired the writing, recording, and editing of sacred scripture. Although the Bible is made up of various authors spanning hundreds of years, moving scripture from oral to written form, God’s inspiration was instrumental in the writing of the text. Some books, however, are a tapestry of God’s revelation from a variety of authors, so the editing of each text also contains within it God’s fingerprints of inspiration.

Christians believe that God inspired the formation of the Bible. From the first to the fourth century, both Jewish and Christian communities were defining which books were to be included in their respective canons. The word “canon” means “closed” and literally implies that the Testaments–both old and new–are “closed” off to new books of revelation. God inspired the formation of the canon, which involved drawing boundaries around what ended up being the authoritative Bible or “word of God.”

Christians believe that God inspires the reading community. We believe that inspiration does not end on the written page. The Holy Spirit inspires our reading of the text to shape and form communities, fashion and guide communities, and transform the hearts of those who read scripture. The Bible is, therefore, central in worship and liturgy and the source of belief and behavior.

The problems with inspiration arise when people confuse the authority of Scripture with authority they assert in their interpretation of Scripture. Scripture is inspired; our interpretation — set within a reading community — is not. Interpretation is contextual and stamped within a certain time and place. That’s why people can read the Bible to support slavery while their neighbors can read the same Bible to oppose slavery.

If we see our interpretations as authoritative, then it is not far-fetched to only read, interpret, and apply the parts of the Bible that we like. We begin to gerrymander our reading of the text, and we ignore parts with which we either disagree or dislike. That’s why the very people in my tradition can disagree whether women can preach while ignoring verses right next door that enforce head-coverings for women in houses of worship. We choose to historicize some verses while claiming that the very next set of verses is universal in its application and scope. It all gets very confusing.

Although there is division in our reading of scripture, we hold in common the ongoing work of discerning the Word of God in our liturgy, reading, and proclamation of the word. Preaching the Bible is our best attempt to apply and appropriate an ancient book to a specific time and place.

The fundamental conviction of most Christians is that the Bible is inspired and authoritative in living a life of faith with God. How we apply sacred scriptures depends on time, place, and the people reading the Bible–and the values and convictions that drive their interpretations of the text that shape communities beyond the written word.

What is more Important: Bible Study or Prayer?

According to Donald Whitney in Spiritual Disciplines for the Christian Life, “No Spiritual Discipline is more important than the intake of God’s Word.”

Put in context of his writing, Whitney asserts that reading the Bible is the most important spiritual discipline for Christians.  I have some other ideas–namely, that prayer is the most important discipline.  Its important to read about God in the Bible and to learn from God’s Word, but is that more important than talking to God directly?

What do you think?

Comment below!

 

Is Honesty the Best Preaching Policy?

man writing in front of booksBy Joe LaGuardia

They say that, in writing, honesty is the best policy.  Stephen King advises in On Writing that writing is best when it tells the truth.  In Right to Write, Julia Cameron has an entire chapter on honesty and its merits in writing.  Creative writing coaches will tell you, if it ain’t the truth, it ain’t worth putting on the page.  Honesty has sold millions of books and millions of dollars in movie sales.

Yet, in preaching every week, I wonder whether honesty has a place in the pulpit.  I am not saying that we preachers lie or manipulate our congregations, but honesty implies that you, rather than the God about whom we testify and the scripture that we seek to exegete, takes center stage in the preaching event.

Some say that personal stories have no place in sermons.  They distract from the doctrines we need to teach.  Others say that the only godly way to preach is by expository preaching, which leaves neither room nor time for personal exploration.  So where does honesty have a place  in the pulpit?

I come from a school of theology (as many Baptists do) that makes room for what is called narrative preaching.  Narrative preaching, popularized by the likes of Fred Craddock and John Claypool, not only focuses on scripture for  the sermon, but does so in narrative and story-form.  Since we live the story of the Gospel in real time and in real situations, than real life–in all its beauty and ugliness–have a place in the sermon.

Some narrative preachers tell stories and preach so well, in fact, that the congregation forgets they’re preaching in the first place.  The sermons are like good movies–the moment you forget you’re watching a movie, the director and actors of the movie has moved you into the best that cinema has to offer.

Narrative preaching (and, in Claypool’s methodology, “confessional preaching”) places the preacher squarely in the center of the story.  It is disingenuous (as the notion goes) to say that the preacher can “stay out” of the sermon–we bring all of who we are — our personality, life, experiences, and struggles — to bear on the text, so to think that we can somehow not make it personal is the least honest thing we can do.

In reading Julia Cameron’s chapter on “honesty” recently, I got to thinking about the place of honesty and storytelling in the preaching event.  I find my home squarely in the narrative preaching tradition.  I cannot do expository preaching (I’ve tried, with great failure).  I cannot do outline preaching (precept upon precept)–I bore myself to death.  I do not consider myself a teacher of scripture–that’s for Sunday School.

I am a preacher who stands in the tradition of a Lord who told stories in order to help people experience the Kingdom of God.  Jesus never preached in expository style–he didn’t teach about God; he helped people meet God.

But that doesn’t mean I am required to be honest, at least not in the way that creative writers mean it.  Let me explain.

In writing, honesty implies that you reveal your deepest conflict or assumptions about life.  It is a type of writing that values memoir over embellishment.  We write from the inside out because people do not deserve deceit or fanciful exaggeration.  We write what we see, and life does not need help in communicating something true and valuable.

In preaching, however, storytelling still does not create an ecosystem in which the “I” takes precedence over the “Thou.”  We are still not at the center of the story,  and telling the truth can be misconstrued as pushing an agenda more than bearing witness to what we–as the congregation–can learn together about being God’s beloved community.

We go to church and experience all of worship (not just the sermon, only a fraction of what worship is supposed to be about–those long sermon times are for another column!) because we come to together to experience God and bear witness to how God has redeemed us and is ever redeeming us.

We preachers need to be honest in our shortcomings.  We mustn’t pretend to have all the answers or go out of our way to convince the congregation that they need to think like we do.  We need to be honest about those areas of scripture with which we wrestle–and explain why they are difficult–not provide cliches that gloss over a Word that is beyond us and still contains deep mysteries that we will never really know about, completely at least.

We must be honest by acknowledging that we are not all that great of people, and that we’re like everyone else aside from our vocation as professional expositors of the text.  Instead, we must be humble by keeping our sermons concise and focused rather than allowing pride to prove to others how verbose we are.  Our vocation as preachers is one of function, not of elevated spiritual divinity over others who work in and on behalf of Christ’s church.

Every week, I wrestle with this idea.  I take great pains not to let myself (or my family or my situations past or present) get in the way of the Gospel message.  I use personal anecdotes at times to illustrate or accentuate a point, but it is not the destination of the sermon.  These stories, like other methods of storytelling, are merely resources to help others experience God.  Being honest is valuable, but its not the point.  No one comes to church to hear about me.  Honesty is a policy, but its not always the best way to communicate God’s Word.