Readings for the day: Psalm 106, John 1:4-14
For decades, maybe even a few centuries, there has been a strong push among biblical scholars to break the Bible down into it’s component parts. To atomize the Scriptures so we can get to the truth. To divorce each word, each phrase, each passage from the rest of the material around it so we can put it under the microscope. When I was in seminary we were taught to stay within the text. To stay within the particular chapter we were reading. We most certainly were not encouraged and, in some cases, not allowed to draw from other books of the Bible to make our exegetical case. Such efforts were dismissed in favor of a “dis-integrated” approach that frees the interpreter from the constraints of the overarching narrative.
The problem, of course, is this notion is completely foreign to the Biblical authors themselves. Clearly whoever composed Psalm 106 had no trouble drawing on material from all over the Bible as he prayed to God. Egypt. Exodus. The wilderness wandering. A golden calf. The great sin at Peor and the valiant actions of Phinehas to stay the plague. The conquest of Canaan. Inhabiting the Promised Land. Kingdom. Exile. Return. He basically is telling and re-telling the story of Israel as he prays. Recounting the great faithfulness of God as he remembers and cries out for salvation once again. He understands his place the larger narrative. He understands his role in the larger story. He sees Scripture “wholistically” and draws great comfort from the text.
Jesus himself took this approach. He saw the Scriptures a “unified” whole that could not be separated or broken down into hermetically sealed little packages, one having nothing to do with the other. Listen to what he tells two disciples on the road to Emmaus after His resurrection. “And he said to them, "O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?" And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself.” (Luke 24:25-27) Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection makes no sense if it is not connected to the larger story of God’s salvation. The greater plan God has been working out since the foundations of the world. Jesus’ birth seems random and even capricious - at least to Mary - unless it remains anchored in the prophetic witness of the Old Testament. Jesus’ teaching seems like it comes out of left field unless it remains linked to the Law of God revealed on Mt. Sinai. The cross - divorced from the context of the Old Testament system of sacrifices - becomes a horror rather than a hope. The resurrection, rather than sounding the death-knell of sin and death and evil, becomes this strange, other-worldly, super-spiritual, psychosomatic event that doesn’t really change much at all.
It is without question that every single author of every single book of the Bible believed with all their heart, soul, and mind that the events they recorded were part of the eternal plan of God. The Apostle John especially understood this great truth when he wrote these immortal words, “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.” (John 1:14) With the advent of Jesus, John knew the world had changed. The curtain had closed, so to speak, on human history as God Himself took the stage. Light now shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot overcome it. Good stood toe to toe with evil and backed him down. God had now entered our world of brokenness to mend it and make it whole. And the great news for all of us is this, “To all who receive him, who believe in his name, he gives the right to become children of God, who are born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.” (John 1:12-13)