John 9:1-12
As [Jesus] walked along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus answered, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him. We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming when no one can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” When he had said this, he spat on the ground and made mud with the saliva and spread the mud on the man’s eyes, saying to him, “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam” (which means Sent). Then he went and washed and came back able to see.
The neighbors and those who had seen him before as a beggar began to ask, “Is this not the man who used to sit and beg?” Some were saying, “It is he.” Others were saying, “No, but it is someone like him.” He kept saying, “I am the man.” But they kept asking him, “Then how were your eyes opened?” He answered, “The man called Jesus made mud, spread it on my eyes, and said to me, ‘Go to Siloam and wash.’ Then I went and washed and received my sight.” They said to him, “Where is he?” He said, “I do not know.”
[I chose this morning’s Gospel, not because I’m going to spend a lot of time unpacking it, directly, in response to today’s question. I chose it – with the notion of Science and Scripture in mind – to simply show the gulf that exists between the life and times of Jesus in the First Century, and our own day and age. And how differently we are invited to understand Scripture because of that.
The short of the long – and the obvious expression of this – is to see how the people around Jesus believed that that man’s blindness was the result of divine judgment for his sins – or for the sins of his parents – and how he was cast-out and ostracized because of it. We know so much more than that now – and so did Jesus, it seems. Which is why his healing – and the point of the story – wasn’t about a health problem or a physical defect.
Just like those First Century onlookers, we want to pretend this story is about sickness or science, when really it’s all about the forgiveness of sins and showing how wide and merciful God’s love and forgiveness was, is, and can be, when we share it.]
Anyway, shifting gears somewhat to today’s question, which came through in a variety of ways from a variety of sources: Grace Notes, some conversations, the Men’s Bible Study crew, and even a second-hand text from one of our college kids by way of his mother.
I had tried to address it when we kicked off our last sermon series – the one from July, about Genesis, and the primeval mythology of its first 12 chapters. I threw out the phrase “LITERAL v. LITERATE,” and throughout that series Pastor Cogan and I tried to unpack the way those stories in Genesis (Creation, The Flood, The Fall, The Tower of Babel) speak to larger, universal, cosmic Truths, even if we aren’t required to receive them as historically or scientifically accurate accounts.
So, here is a list of the several questions we tried to summarize and roll up into today’s single query:
One was a series of non-sequiturs, asking about Creation in 7 days versus Evolution and the Big Bang Theory, dinosaurs, and how people add up the life-lengths and say that is the age of the earth, …etc.
There was a reference to “Talking snakes,” the Nephilim, and the plural use of God in Genesis 3:22 – where God was apparently concerned that Adam and Eve would become like “one of us.”
Did God actually walk in The Garden with Adam and Eve?
How do you reconcile “time” in the Bible, including the ages of people? (Like how did Abraham live to be 175 years? Or Moses 120? Or Adam 930? Or Methuselah 969?)
I don’t want to be too simplistic, or to dismiss the thoughtfulness and concern over these kinds of questions. But I have to say that faithful people – especially rationally-thinking, scientifically-minded faithful people – have been making more of this than is necessary for far too long. It can be fun to do, don’t get me wrong. And there may even be meaning to be found in some of it.
But all of the math, numerology, guess-work and mental gymnastics it takes to “make sense of” what are often nothing more than literary devices or culturally particular context clues or plain-old hyperbole reminds me of the way Swifties dissect Taylor Swift’s liner notes, album covers, wardrobe changes, or even the tchotchkes on the wall behind her during that interview with the Kelce brothers a couple of weeks ago. Again, it can be fun. And every once in a while you might find an Easter egg. But you don’t have to go into those weeds in order to enjoy or find meaning in the music’s big picture.
The short of the long – where the Bible is concerned, is – we don’t need to get into those weeds, do all of that math, or believe that Moses lived to be 120. Or that Methusela died at the ripe old age of 969. Or that Noah built a boat big enough to hold two of every creature on the planet, including the Tyrannosaurus Rex. Or that God jumped off of a cloud to walk with Adam and Eve.
(For the record, even though I don’t believe God left actual footprints in Eden, I did have a moment once at the cemetery in Lindsay, Ohio, where my maternal grandparents are buried, to the degree that I think I know what Genesis means when it says they heard the sound of God “walking in the garden at the time of the evening breeze.”)
Nonetheless, we don’t always have to connect all of those confusing, confounding impossible dots, either.
To put it plainly, the Bible is not a science book – and it doesn’t pretend or need to be. Every part of it isn’t a history book, either – and it doesn’t pretend or need to be. The Bible is a book of books – oral history, letters, poems, songs, stories, prophecies, and more, that never intended to be collected, assembled, and bound into a single tome. Humans did that. Male humans – with power and privilege – did that. And we should be wary of what male humans with power and privilege can do with things like science, history, and the stories of people. (That may be another sermon or another day.)
But in spite of that … still … by the grace of God, the Bible is beautiful and points us toward God’s love and plan for creation at every turn – or it should. And that is how I hope we are inclined and inspired to read, receive, and report what we find in God’s word through the pages of Scripture.
Now, bear with me, but another way I have explained this, is to tell the story of my dad’s Caesar Salad. My dad makes a mean Caesar Salad. It’s been a while since I’ve had it, but growing up it was a staple, whenever we had family or friends over for a nice dinner. The dressing is made with, among other things, a raw egg, Worcestershire sauce, a ton of garlic, lemon juice, and anchovy paste. And even though I can picture him whipping up this concoction a million times while I was growing up, I never really realized or thought about what I was eating, until I asked for the recipe, the first time I tried to impress Christa for a Valentine’s Day dinner when we were just dating, 500 years ago, back in the 1900’s.
(See what I did there? That’s the kind of hyperbole that makes a point, without needing to be historically accurate. Bible writers did that too.)
Anyway, the problem was, my dad never used a recipe when he made his Caesar Salad, so his instructions, delivered by e-mail and then over the phone, were more than a little vague. There were no measuring cups or Table spoons involved. It was, “Use one egg or two depending how much lettuce you have.” It was, “Use a lot of garlic. You can’t really use too much garlic.” It was, “Throw in a couple of splashes of Worcestershire sauce.” And it was, “Squeeze a line of anchovy paste into it, about the length of a couple of knuckles.”
Actually, the clearest – and most meaningful – instruction I received that first time around, after giving him grief for how impossibly unclear he was, was when he said, “Mark, you know what it’s supposed to look and taste like when it’s finished. Just make it like that.”
All of this is to say – again – in answer to the question about if and how we are able to square Science with Scripture – is that we don’t have to.
Martin Luther described the Bible as a cradle that merely, but meaningfully, bears the Christ child. And it is a liberating relief for me to say that we don’t worship the words in a book, we worship the Word made flesh, in Jesus.
We worship Jesus – and the unmitigated, radical, counter-cultural, uncomfortable love and grace he shares. The love of God in Jesus is to be the heart and soul and goal of whatever we’re reading into and pulling out of Holy Scripture. We are reading the Bible faithfully – we square science and scripture (or we liberate ourselves from checking our brains at the door or from trying to cram square pegs into round holes) – when and only when, the crucified and risen Jesus, the loving and living God, is what we receive and share through our best interpretations and our most humble understandings of what we find in its pages.
My dad suggested that I'd know it when I saw it, tasted it, presented it, and shared his version of a Caesar Salad with Christa. Throughout Holy Scripture we are invited to see a whole picture of God’s love and grace, in Jesus. Some stories seem harsh and unforgiving. Some are packed with immeasurable grace. So many ancient tales just can’t be reconciled with our modern understanding of how the world works.
But when we toss them all together and when we turn them over in our minds with hearts set on God’s larger story and finished product of love, mercy, forgiveness, and hope, these stories tell a story of grace for the whole wide world that can’t be measured or made sense of, no matter how hard we try to do the math or crunch the numbers. It all only makes sense and measures up by grace, through faith – not because of the words in a book, but because of in the Word of love, made flesh, in Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.
