The Eighth Day of Christmas: The Politics of Scripture

The Politics of Scripture

The Eighth Day of Christmas

Friday, January 1, 2021

Psalm 8

Ecclesiastes 3.1-13

Revelation 21.1-6a

Matthew 25.31-46

“Everything has a season,” writes Qohelet, the poet-philosopher. 

Note that we’re using her authentic Hebrew name, as opposed to the more familiar Greek,

Ecclesiastes. And don’t credit Solomon with words he certainly did not write, no matter what

tradition would have you believe. 

“It is best to think of Qohelet,” writes Robert Alter, “as the literary persona of a radical

philosopher articulating...a powerful dissent from the mainline Wisdom outlook that is

the background of his thought.”

Whoever it is, the author’s engaging in a dialogue with other parts of scripture. 

The god of Qohelet does not seem like the God of Genesis and Exodus, the God who

controls history, bringing floods and plagues, rescuing the chosen people and providing

manna as they wander through the wilderness. 

The god of Qohelet does not seem like the God of Amos or Jeremiah or Isaiah either, the

God who condemns Israel for its unfaithfulness but then steps in to rescue the repentant

nation.

Rather, the god of Qohelet is more like the god of deism that gets things going but then steps

back and absently allows history to run its course. This may be similar to the god of today’s

Psalm, but that stands in stark contrast to the God of our reading in Revelation who is making

all things new. Or the God of our gospel reading who separates the sheep from the goats.

Of course, this is not the only dialogue happening within scripture. The opening two chapters

of Genesis - the two competing creation stories - are themselves in dialogue.

And the fact that the Bible includes such a dialogue is not only beautiful, but is also key to

understanding its contents. Contrary to popular opinion, the Bible is not an owner’s manual;

it’s not a rulebook. (Rachel Held Evans compares this view to Michael Scott, in an episode of

The Office, driving a rental car into a lake because the GPS said to turn right.)

In fact, the Bible is not a book at all: “it’s a diverse library,” says Held Evans, “of ancient texts,

spanning multiple centuries, genres, and cultures, authored by a host of different authors

coming from a variety of perspectives.”

Notice that she mentioned genre. Well, genre is key to understanding.

Qohelet (Ecclesiastes) is wisdom literature. And as Held Evans observes, “The aim of

wisdom literature is to uncover something true about the nature of reality in a way that

makes the reader or listener wiser.”

And how does wisdom make us, as readers, become wiser? “In the Bible, wisdom is rarely

presented as a single decision, belief, or rule, but rather as a ‘way’ or ‘path’ that the sojourner

must continually discern amid the twists and turns of life.”

You see, life is too complex for a simple rulebook.

“Wisdom, it seems, is situational,” argues Held Evans. “It isn’t just about knowing what to

say; it's about knowing when to say it. And it’s not just about knowing what is true; it’s about

knowing when it’s true.”

And so she concludes: “To engage the Bible with wisdom, then, is to embrace its diversity,

not fight it.”

It’s not just the Bible that speaks with a diversity of voices. We, as a community, do too. And

we should follow the example of the biblical authors, and the biblical editors, by continuing the

dialogue as we read and interpret and discuss the text together.

Everything has a season.

Brueggemann see this as the “numbness” of the “royal consciousness” and “Solomonic

establishment” that “embodies the loss of passion, which is the inability to care or suffer”

and so leads to “apathy, a-pathy, a-pathos, the absence of pathos.”

To Held Evans, on the other hand, “these verses imply a pro tip: “When your friend is sitting

in a heap of ashes, grieving the loss of his family and scratching his diseased skin with a

shard of pottery” - she’s describing Job, in case you missed that - “it’s time to be silent. It’s

time to listen and to grieve.”

If you are wondering who is right, you’ve missed the point.

There are definitely wrong ways to read scripture. And unfortunately, many of us were

taught wrong. The good news is that there is no one right way. But that also means that

no one person has all the answers, which is why Hauerwas constantly reminds us that we

must read together.

In fact, it may be dangerous to read alone, lest we think we understand on our own.

Reading is political. Part of living together is learning to read together.