Learning to Love the Bible Again with Rachel Held Evans
My theological assurances did not begin to crumble over a seven-day creation or the celebration of genocide, although both of these things and so many more were eventually questioned as my Christian foundation slipped. No, my doubts started reading the household commands from Paul. While I took notes sitting demurely between my parents, I bristled at being told to submit to a husband, in the same passage slaves were told to submit to their masters. It seemed illogical one of those orders was cultural and outdated while the other was not. Rachel Held Evans’ latest book, Inspired: Slaying Giants, Walking on Water, and Loving the Bible Again, ends where my first questions began.
As she faced doubts of her own, Evans struggled with what it means for the Bible to be inspired. Her faith journey, as well as her intense research into the latest scholarship, figure prominently in the book. As she discovers the Bible is alive, breathing, and capable of standing against our toughest questions, she adventures into some of the most famous stories and retells them through memoir, soliloquy, a screenplay. Sandwiched between these stories are an intense examination of each genre of the Bible, which better teaches how each section should even be read in the first place. The last genre is letters to the church, which also addresses how progressives can grapple with the teachings of Paul.
Like Jacob in the desert, I have wrestled with God for the past few years. Sometimes I have wanted to walk away from the fight. Other times, I have demanded my blessing. That windy night may have been long for the patriarch, but these years feel longer to me. I sense the Spirit though, and know the dawn is coming. One of Evans’ final questions released me to believe what I felt was true in those green church chairs so long ago:
“So the questions for readers, then, is whether the point of the New Testament household codes is to reinforce the Greco-Roman household structure as God’s ideal for all people, in all places, for all time, or whether the point is to encourage Christians to imitate Jesus in their relationships, regardless of the culture or their status in it.”
Before this chapter, I wanted to share my excitement about the short chapters between the in-depth explanations of each genre in the Bible. I wanted to share how these fan fiction-esque snippets teased out the true literary depth of the Bible. Evans is both a masterful playwright and an author of a choose-your-own adventure within these pages. I would still buy a book if it just included more of these playful explorations of the text. But it was in the very last chapter where Evans’ power as a heavyweight researcher hit me the most. It was where I appreciated someone else slewing through the passages that slowly broke my heart, so she could rekindle the beauty in them for people like me. Her knowledge was essential. Her reframing of Paul welcome. Her awe at the book I once loved ignited that same tenderness in me again.
As my Twitter friend Cristi Jernigan said, for those of us who have taken a beating from these holy texts, Evans makes you want to run towards the Bible again rather than away from it. For those who still believe in the inerrancy of the Bible and love it as tenderly as I once did, I hope they see the value in this change in orientation, even if they cannot accept some of the tenants of her historical critical interpretation.
I don’t want to go back to a place where I cheered at genocide or accepted metaphor as fact, but I do miss how I loved the book and depended on it for hope. The best part of Evans sharing these insights is I think I can read the Bible again without a sense of dread and fear. Instead, I can be inspired.
