And, at some point, even those who are too cool
for school will be able to hear King Lear with new ears, even if they have to
wait until their son-in-law takes away their car keys and puts them in a nursing
home.
Body:
It used to be easy for me to get caught up in
arguments about "relevance" in preaching and teaching the Bible. As preachers,
do we make the Bible relevant to today's listeners, or, as Barth argued, do we
make today's listeners relevant to the Bible? How do we bridge the gap between
cultures?
I'm weary of it. It's a
stupid discussion.
I sat in English
class in high school and I listened, transfixed, as my literature professor
opened the word - Shakespeare's word, not God's. As old, mad King Lear dashed
through the rain with his jester and disguised protector, I, a teenage student
who couldn't yet grow a beard, felt my heart break with Lear's as he wept over
his loss of control, the indignity of ageing, and the death of his daughter. I
remember watching Hamlet and smiling at the ironies of life, drama, and how the
two intertwine. In college, my English professor sat on the edge of a student's
desk and interrogated us about Wuthering Heights. "What is love?" he asked.
"Would you trade places with Catherine? Why?" Those English professors taught me
more about preaching than a hundred preachers arguing about "relevance."
Is King Lear relevant to today's
world? Is Wuthering Heights? Sure, a million students sitting in class
text-messaging their buddies about this weekend's keg party may disagree, but
for anyone who has been touched by the stories the question is... irrelevant.
And, at some point, those who are too cool for school will be able to hear King
Lear with new ears, even if they have to wait until their son-in-law takes away
their car keys and puts them in a nursing home.
"Relevance" is something that obtains
in a listener when there is perceived distance between the listener and the
story. When you glance at your watch during the particularly tedious fight scene or
boring dialogue in a movie, when something jars you out of identifying with the
protagonist, you've reached a place where you make a judgment about relevance.
Even if you decide that a story is relevant, you arrrive at the decision because
something caused you to step back and look at the work as a whole, then look at
your culture, and note that there were more points of agreement than
disagreement. If we judge something "relevant," it's because it fits - but just
barely.
I saw some news footage of
interviews with people coming out of the theater after seeing Star Wars: A New
Hope in 1976. The media took notice of Star Wars because science fiction had
been considered a niche genre. Two teenage girls came out giggling, saying the
movie was terrible, because it was "too make-believe." For whatever reason -
they were not able to suspend disbelief, they didn't have the required amount of
testosterone, they had tiny imaginations, or they were absorbed in their own
worlds of gossip and fashion - the movie did not achieve relevance. For me, of
course, it was a picture of the way reality should be. I figured every kid
wanted a lightsaber.
Sometimes we run
up against the same disconnection with the Bible. Because of the perceived
difference between Biblical culture and ours, because of the alien feel, we
cannot enter into the story. We stand outside it. To some extent it is good to
be aware of the difference.
Yet for
some reason I can read The Kite
Runner, or
Dune,
or the Joy Luck
Club, and enter into an alien culture and even
an alien person. Yes, yes, I know - that's not the same thing as understanding a
culture (as if most people even understand their
own
culture) yet I walk away from these books transformed. Something in me changes.
For many people, reading The Red
Tent opened them up to the Bible in a way they
had never experienced.
If we cannot
do the same thing with the Bible - enter into the text and be transformed by it
- it is not the Bible's fault. The Bible has transforming power. What's needed
is a storyteller or a teacher who will open the Word and interrogate you with
it: would you switch places with King David? with Paul? Why? Do you find this
proverb convincing? Is this author speaking literally or figuratively? What's
going on in this text? To fully enter into a text, to fall in love with it, you
have to be willing to ask these kinds of questions. Some Christians won't
because they find the questions threatening. But reading the Bible should
destabilize our carefully-constructed world.
I loved listening to the commentary on
the DVD of The Seven
Samurai. The film professor talked about
Kurosawa's technique, the anarchic fight choreography, the way the musical
themes introduced certain characters, and all the innovative stuff that
influenced directors for years after. He clearly loved the movie. I imagine that
if you asked him if The Seven
Samurai were relevant to today's culture, he
might look at you as if you were insane. Talk to anyone about the thing in their
life that alters their universe and ask them if it's
relevant.
I've listened to mechanics that can talk about an engine with such passion that
it makes me want to give up preaching and go take apart a car.
I suspect that if some in our culture
are "too cool for school," refusing to enter into Star Wars or Shakespeare or
Spaghetti Westerns, they will not find relevance in the Bible either. For such
people, even if they were to see a movie or read a book about
their own
life, they would most likely make the same
judgment: this story is not relevant to me. Their problem is not with the
relevance of the story. Their problem is that their fear of transformation
prevents them from entering into the story. They will not become vulnerable.
At the same time I believe there are
preachers who know intuitively that people
should
love the Bible, but they can't quite figure out how to spread the love. So they
stand outside of the text, trying to make it
fit,
instead of entering into it themselves. I've done the same thing, not just with
the Bible but with other areas of life. I've tried liking something because I
felt I should. Eventually I give up. But when I come back to it later, and enter
into it without carrying with me the image of who I believe I'm supposed to be -
if, in other words, I can leave behind my baggage - I sometimes find, to my
surprise, that this text, or music, or film, really
rocks
in an unexpected and delightful way. The
problem is not relevance. The problem is
me.
I think that when some preachers talk
about relevance, what's really at stake is their own
credibility
- but I'm saving that for another post.