• Job 23:1-9, 16-17
• Psalm 22:1-15
• Amos 5:6-7, 10-15
• Psalm 90:12-17
• Hebrews 4:12-16
• Mark 10:17-31

Indeed, the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword…

What is the Bible? What is the Word of God? Usually, the only time I hear this verse quoted in sermons is in as scary context: something about using the Bible as a weapon against our enemies. Do a Google on the phrase “the word of God is living” and see what sort of things you come up with. I found this page that talks about fuzzy theology being based on pulling together only a few verses… and then promptly pulls together only a few verses without understanding a single one…

I have friends – conservative, “fundamentalist” or “evangelical” friends of either the Christian or Atheist sort – who will tell me that if I fail to do Christianity their way, then I’m doing it wrong. But when they want me to be a literalist… and then use a bad understanding of the Bible, I can’t do that.

What is the Bible? What is the Word of God? are those two questions even the same question? The Bible doesn’t say so. The Bible doesn’t use the phrase “Word of God” to refer to itself even though some of its texts (mostly all prophecy) make the claim to be sourced in the Word of the Lord. (Isaiah says “the word of the Lord came to me…”)

To some religions, the text is all there is: the Sikhs, for example, believe their sacred text is their Guru. Muslims and Jews alike are taught that before the creation of the world their sacred text was, as a whole, present in the mind of God. Mormons, too, are taught their text exists, engraved on Golden Plates, in Heaven.

The text becomes all, there is nothing along side of it in that context. You are, seemingly, expected to adhere to the text. Truth be told, however, the texts in all those religions is subject to interpretation and application. That’s expected. But the Christian texts are treated differently, at least in some traditions: the text is not seen as if it fell, whole cloth, from the sky. Admittedly, some Protestants act as if it did fall so, leather cover, King James translation and Scofield reference notes and all. Some seem to imagine that the “Authorised Edition” is authorised not for the Church of England, but rather by God. (For this they conveniently forget that the original 1611 Authorised Edition contained the “other books” of the Bible like the Papists use.)

Nothing could be further from the Truth, for the Word of God in the Christian understanding, is not the Bible but Jesus, himself. If you read the text of the Bible trying to understand the book to be talking about itself, it becomes very difficult. Phrases like “the word of God came…” and “the word of God increased…” and even “the word of God is a sword…” all make no sense if the are discussing a book; a book which did not even exist yet! But these phrases make sense if “word of God” is seen as some sort of mystical idea, especially when the Greek tends to use in most (not all) cases, the Logos of God, implying not a written text, but rather a Greco-Roman philosophical concept. The Logos being the concept, the idea, the content of God, rather than the Form. It might be present in a written text, or a prophetic utterance. But ultimately, in the Christian Context, the Logos of God becomes flesh in Jesus.

Look at this passage today, in Hebrews. Between verse 12 and verse 13, there is only one sort of pronoun used. In Greek it can mean she, he or it. If you read v12 to mean the text of a book called the Bible it has to be “it” but v13 brings us to “him to whom we must render an account” which is certainly not the Bible, but, rather, God. The entire book of the Hebrews is an argument about Jesus’ place in the plan of salvation. To read v12 (and really, only v12) to be about the book of text rather than the Messiah is a huge mistake. It is reading into the text what is not there… and reading out what is. If we replace the bad pronouns with direct readings this is what we get:

Indeed, the Word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until he divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow; he is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And before him no creature is hidden, but all are naked and laid bare to the eyes of him to whom we must render an account.

Let’s replace the pronouns with proper nouns and see what we get, in the fundamentalist language, first:

Indeed, the Bible is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until the Bible divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow; the Bible is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And before Jesus no creature is hidden, but all are naked and laid bare to the eyes of Jesus to whom we must render an account.

And then in the way I’m suggesting:

Indeed, Jesus is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until Jesus divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow; Jesus is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And before Jesus no creature is hidden, but all are naked and laid bare to the eyes of Jesus, to whom we must render an account.

Makes a lot more sense, I think. It is also the way that Church has traditionally understood the Bible, as a conveyor of the teachings of God, an Icon, if you will, of God. Perhaps even the most privileged conveyor of those teachings short of Jesus himself. But not the word of God in the sense contained in today’s reading (active, sharp, etc).

St John Chrysostom, in his commentary on Hebrews, says as much:

“For the Word of God is quick and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, and pierceth even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.” In these words he shows that He, the Word of God, wrought the former things also, and lives, and has not been quenched.

But the footnote to the translation I linked to says:

St. Chrys. here understands the λογος of the Second Person of the Trinity. It is now generally interpreted as a personification of the spoken or written word sent forth by Him.

The translator gets away by saying “now generally understood” without adding, “by Protestants”.

It is important to note that exception – short of Jesus, himself. The Bible’s teaching (see?) that the Church is the Body of Christ, filled with Christ’s spirit, makes the church the thing that, in this world, is the “Ground and pillar” of the Truth; the Church is the thing that, in this world, “able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart”, the λογος of the Trinity. She is not, however, any more perfect than the book that she wrote: an ongoing and historic record of the way God uses fallible humans to do his work in the world. She includes all the understanding of all the humans she always was. We are limited by culture, by our current science, by our own biases: but we are called to be the word of God, the “λογος of the Trinity.”

Today’s Gospel speaks of Rich People and how hard it is for them to enter the kingdom of heaven. It would be easy to turn that to a sermon about wealth, and – in today’s climate – healthcare. I’ve blogged as much recently. But we need to recognise that, in America, even the poorest of our poor has far far more stuff than, in some cases, the wealthy of Jesus time. Wealth is not a statement of the number of things one has: if it were, we’d all be doomed. Wealth is a statement of relationship. That man valued his stuff more than the people around him. He had a “personal relationship” with his money instead of a relationship with the people God had placed in his lives.

But with God, all things are possible.

How do we move (we the Church and we the Rich People of the Gospel) into a deeper co-operation with the Word of God, present, living, sharp and active? How do we become that sword?

HIS IS THE Third Sunday of Pacha, and, in the Eastern Rite, it is the Sunday of the Myrrh-Bearing Women. At least for the Gospel, we depart from the RCL readings for today and use a collection of readings from Mark (Mark 15:43-47; 16:1-8). We’ve lectionary evidence for this paschal cycle being used (in some places) least as early as the 7th century.

The second passage in today’s reading is also used as the third of eleven Matins Gospels in the Eastern Rite. Each Sunday is seen as a celebration of the Resurrection and so each Sunday Matins, on an Eleven Week Cycle, celebrates this event with certain hymns and readings.

When I was first Chrismated, attending an OCA parish in San Francisco, these Matins Gospels were read – following the Slavic tradition – at a vigil service the night before. In a darkened church, the Holy Doors would open and the light would blaze forth from the altar with Fr Victor’s strong voice singing the resurrection. Then we’d come forward and venerate the Gospel. Later, when I was in Asheville, the Antiochian Parish there followed the Byzantine tradition which serves matins in the morning prior to liturgy. These readings were done in the full glory of a North Carolina sunrise.

And, for some reason, they seemed less true to me.

How do you get from “they were so afraid they didn’t even do what the Angel told ‘em to do” (ie “they said nothing to anyone”) to yelling “Khristos Aneste” all the time? And why is it that there, in the dark of a church at midnight, a candle can seem so powerful. But in the full glory of a weekly Easter Sunrise, it seems doubtful?

How do you deal with doubt?

As I noted last week, the Gospel of John seems to allow for doubt. Mark does too – but it gets covered up. The textual evidence indicates that the Gospel of Mark used to end right here, with the women saying “nothing to anyone, for they were afraid” and running off into the Morning light. They couldn’t handle it – didn’t know what to do. And so in their fear (which is another form of doubt) they just ran away. Later the text gets doctored up with the remainder of the chapter (11 verses written in a totally different style and telling a different story) that make this Gospel look more like other Gospels. But that first ending leaves us wondering “What the hell happened here?”

And today we celebrate those women.

How do you handle Doubt?

Imagine an Easter story that stops here – with the Angles saying “go and tell the other apostles…” and the women apostles being so scared (of Jewish leaders and Roman soldiers and the Supernatural and the men-folks’ scorn) that they just run away and hide.

Of course that’s not the end. And the answer to doubt is experience.

So I would stand there, listening to the stories from the Matins Gospels, I’d sometimes catch myself smiling: there are gaps in the stories so wide as to drive a truck through. The gaps in these stories we tell ourselves are filled in and covered over with a spackling paste of traditional understandings, projections and mythologies. As I blogged recently: tmatt asks, in his famous “tmatt trio“:

Are the biblical accounts of the resurrection of Jesus accurate? Did this event really happen?

This is, of course, a trick question: there are no biblical accounts of the resurrection. None at all. There are only written tales of various events – visions, angelic visitations, appearances, suppers, breakfasts, second and third hand accounts, etc – of events that happened after the death of Jesus and the discovery of his empty tomb.

What happened sometime after midnight that Saturday evening or Sunday Morning? The Gospels do not tell us. The hymns of the church tell us that, according to the Church’s understanding, there were no witnesses. Even the Roman guards were prevented from witnessing the mystery – so that it might be revealed only to those who believe.

Last week, in response to the story of Doubting Thomas, a preacher friend of mine suggested that, in fact, we should doubt things we can’t see with our own eyes: he said that doubt is not the opposite of faith, fear is. This week we have clear evidence fear and I’m reminded of the Apostolic counsel that “perfect love drives out all fear”. There, I think, lies the answer to doubt: experience of Love.

This entire first generation of Christians went to their death rather than deny the resurrection. I don’t have any reason to doubt that, at least. One looney I could write off – in fact, the last 2000 years of religious lunatics and fanatics says nothing to me about the validity of the resurrection. But every one of these folks that were terrified, confused, boggled and hiding, everyone – except the Beloved – went to death rather than say this wasn’t the way things happened. We’ve no record of any of them recanting – and the Romans and the Jews would have made much of it if there was even just one. They were all looneys together, clear. But as Peter says in the Epistle today, “To this we are witnesses.”

But what about us (blessed are those who have not seen…) and our doubt? What about us and our fear of the modern-day counterparts to soldiers, leaders and scoffers? How do you get from the second generation of Christians to us? And how do we pass it on to the next generation?

The sermons in this series on doubt will fill it out: next Sunday, the Sunday of the Paralytic, we leave aside “Resurrection Appearances” and make the journey of verification. We will follow it up with the Sunday of the Samaritan Woman and the Sunday of the Man Born Blind. I think we’ll see then. It’s clear: Doubt is a part of our experience. Faith, per se, is not the answer to Doubt… this journey through Pascha will bring us to Pentecost and – doubts and all – we’ll be ready to spread the Good News of Resurrection.