Loading...I was 20 years old when I walked into one of my first classes as a junior at Winona State University. I had transferred there after earning my associate’s degree at a community college. I had declared my major as English, with a writing emphasis. This class would be one of the many I would need to earn my degree.
I registered for this class because I felt like it was on a topic I knew quite a bit about: The Bible as Literature. Over the trimester, I discovered I did not know much about the Bible. As a matter of fact, when I look back, I realize I walked into that classroom as an idealized, dreamy-eyed, proof-texting, preconceived-notion-filled Christian who never anticipated this text was more than a way to see Jesus as my personal savior.
You see, it was here, under the teaching of Dr. Marjorie Dorner, that I began to understand that the bible is a book full of stories written from the perspective of the people who wrote them down, after many years of oral tradition, to express the many ways they understood the world. It was a class that taught me that these words were not written by God, but by people from the perspective of their experience and context, their historical relevance, and they represented the social and political commentary of their time.
She taught me how to see the bible as a historical and literary text. I clung to every word, challenged at times, but mesmerized by what I did not know and as I learned from her, my understanding of all this book could be and do for people was transformed.
I think this class was integral to my faith journey. While I am a life-long Episcopalian, this class came after about two years of hanging out with a group of non-denominational, conservative Christians, who worshipped, prayed, and understood God in ways different than I did. I struggled to defend my Episcopal upbringing and still incorporate what I was learning during this time. Taking this class at this point on my faith journey was a valuable step in developing a broader understanding of my faith through scripture. It helped me understand it is okay to wrestle with and question the stories written there.
After about 28 years of being churched and attending Bible studies, of wrestling, studying, and questioning, I started seminary. In those four years, my belief systems and knowledge of scripture were also tested. The seminary I chose to attend, I came to understand, would spend these years dismantling my faith by giving me multiple opportunities to see how Jesus was the model sent to overcome injustice and inequity throughout the world through his way of love.
I dug my conservative heels in, not willing to address why my own attitudes toward these people who would picket and march for the civil rights of others were so troublesome to me. I didn’t want to acknowledge my own privilege of living as a white woman with a husband and two nearly grown children who could financially afford seminary without taking out loans. Who had been able to live frugally, but comfortably, in my own little bubble of security. I felt like an outsider in this seminary community filled with activists and people whose lives were so far removed from my own experience.
And that was the point. That was the test I needed. It was the place where I needed to be to better grasp the true tone and purpose of the Bible. This book is filled with stories of the persecuted, the poor, the faithful. Just because it didn’t affect me personally, it didn’t mean I couldn’t become aware of the plight of others and begin to deeply care about their experiences.
It still has taken time for me to grasp the magnitude of suffering that happens when some people do not see the dignity of others, and I still struggle to know what my role is in finding justice. For now, I think it’s to offer grace and mercy, and to teach others to do the same.
My journey of discovery is a constant exploration. I am continually being tested. I am often tempted to hide from the atrocities of persecution, however slight or egregious, to remain in the safety I think I have. Being reminded that yesterday was the 60th anniversary of Bloody Sunday and thinking back to September when Jeff and I went to Selma and walked across the Edmund Pettis Bridge, I realize how much I do not know, but am now willing to learn.
Our lives are filled with tests and temptations that poke at the fabric of our everyday lives. Most of us have never experienced a hunger for food so deep that our lives were at risk. Some of us have never been given opportunities for work or play that challenge our moral integrity. Others have never been put on a proverbial precipice that tests our faith.
Yet these are exactly the tests and temptations we hear Jesus was given those 40 days after being baptized and entering the wilderness for his formation.
Dr. Dorner helped me understand that stories like this one are literature and that they may mean more to the original listeners than we, all these years later, may comprehend. My classes in seminary provided me with many resources to help me dig a bit deeper into what scripture means. My seminary classmates helped me see that these stories are not only about understanding the love of God, but these stories are also calls to action, especially when others are being harmed or neglected.
With these tools in my toolkit, and a wonder and curiosity to know more, I can dig more deeply into what the author of any of these writings are teaching.
In reading about today’s gospel, I recognize that my choice to not study Greek or Hebrew means I need to trust those who have and those who still do. One of my adjunct professors, for example, is an enthusiastic researcher of dead and ancient languages who spends some of her time trying to decipher the meaning of those early written words. The historical, political, and cultural points of time contribute to the message often hidden in the words, and the tone that may accompany the message may impact how it is understood.
We have new translations of and many commentaries on scripture because we have a deeper understanding of history, of languages, and of the cultures in the time of the writing. The Bible as literature and as scripture becomes more understood as we have more information.
All this is important to know, because sometimes, what we think we know can lead us to a long-term misunderstanding of what scripture is trying to teach us.
In today’s Gospel, for example, we hear a couple of things that may have imprinted images in our memories that we need to revisit. To put it concisely, we hear that the devil is tempting Jesus.
When you hear that sentence, do you imagine Jesus being accosted by a flaming, red-skinned man with bull-like horns protruding from his head, and a long, skinny forked tail swinging behind him while he is brandishing a three-pronged fork?
Richard Swanson, Professor of Religion, Emeritus, from Augustana College in Sioux Falls, S.D., explains the devil character stems from the book of Job where the (little “t”) satan (little “s”) is a job title. In the beginning of Job, Swanson writes, “the ‘sons of God’” (who he describes as “quasi-divine beings”) go to God, and the satan is one of them. He is not a villain. He is “an ally of God.” Interesting, huh?
The role of the satan is to investigate and accuse, sort of like a district attorney. He is to examine, or test that the rules are being followed. Over time, the title morphed into “the devil,” which can also be translated as “the slanderer.”
Swanson translates the Greek word “tempted” as “tested.” He posits that the devil is testing Jesus to see if Jesus is ready for the work he is about to do.[1] Because what Jesus was sent to do means he needs to have the strength to stand for the marginalized and against the oppressors. It could be very easy to be tempted by worldly things, like food, authority, and superpower.
The test here is whether he will take the bait. The devil wants to know if Jesus is strong enough to keep to the plan.
And it is not going to be the last time he shows up to test Jesus’s resolve.
But on this day, even in what we would identify as physical and emotional weakness after going without food for forty days, Jesus prevails. He proves to the devil that he is ready to begin his ministry.
It may seem like a small thing, learning the role of the satan, but it may relieve us of some of the fear and anxiety that comes from an artistic rendering of what some consider an “anti-Christ.” There may be some comfort in learning that the satan, or in this gospel, the devil, is not evil. Rather, the devil serves an important purpose in the training of Jesus. Think of it like taking a class and being tested at the end of the semester. We show what we know, hoping to pass so we can graduate.
I wonder if this knowledge can help us reidentify the purposes of our own challenges of being tempted and tested.
We may also begin to understand that being tempted is not the same as being tested. While temptations fill our days, we can choose to ignore them, or we can allow them to test us.
I wonder if when we are tempted and tested, we might find the purpose is to bring us closer to our Creator.
As Jesus responds to the devil on this day, he shows his ability to withstand the temptations and pass the tests through quoting scripture.
I wonder if our own knowledge and understanding of scripture can help us withstand temptation and give us courage to pass the tests.
I wonder if we will pass the test if we confidently proclaim: “I worship the Lord, my God, and I serve only God.”
My journey of learning about God began before I was 20, but those college years were a pivotal start to what became a life-long process. My desire to understand scripture in more contextual ways has helped me better understand why the world needs a Savior.
I am thankful when I study scripture with the input from people with different perspectives. It tests my knowledge and can challenge long-held beliefs. I pray that in this process I find myself closer to God. I pray that for you, too.
Amen.
[1] Swanson, Richard W., Provoking the Gospel of Luke, The Pilgrims Press, Cleveland, Ohio, 2006, pp.112-119.
