Knock, Knock.

Excuse me sir or madam; I’d like to talk to you about the Holy Bible.

Don’t try to shut the door politely; my foot, you will find, is firmly wedged into the jamb, preventing such demurring.  I don’t wish to be rude; it’s simply that I feel what I have to tell you is of such vital importance that it easily outweighs any imposition upon your time.

But I will be brief.

I know you have probably heard a lot about this book; indeed it has been the subject (and cause) of many controversies, and this has given it quite the shady reputation.   There are many out there who spend great amounts of time and effort to denounce and vilify this fine text, smearing its good name and tying it to countless atrocities which are in no way the fault of the book itself.

My own sincere hope is that you will not allow such slander and calumny to dissuade you from picking up the book and delving between the covers.  No matter how you may feel about some of those who also have read it, don’t let their actions color your perceptions towards its contents.  Just because the assassin of John Lennon was a fan of Catcher in the Rye doesn’t mean one should not read the book (there are plenty of great reasons not to read J.D. Salinger’s dreary magnum mopus, but not because one of its readers killed a Beatle.)

Please do not seek to dislodge me from your doorstep and curtail my diatribe by insisting that you are already familiar with the Bible.  So many feel that because they belong to a religion that claims the bible as their default system reference document, this is analogous to serious readership.  This is as ridiculous a claim (even for the most devout followers,) as those Americans who feel they have no need to read the Constitution merely because they are citizens.

No matter who you may be, this is the book for you. 

I have heard all your protests:

·      “I don’t believe in the Bible!”

·      “I belong to a different religion!”

·      “I’m already a devout follower!”

·      “I don’t even know you, get out of my house!”

And I say unto thee:

·      “The book’s existence has been proven beyond a shadow of a doubt, so just read it.”

·      “You will still belong to that religion after reading it, so just read it.”

·      “Then you, more than anyone needs to understand that for which you claim to stand, so just read it.”

·      “My name is Chris, I log smart-ass observations here, nice to meet you, just read it.”

Look, here’s the thing.  I know it seems completely dated and out of step with modern life, and I know it’s been inextricably linked with more than a few religions, and thus with every less than savory activity with which they may have been involved with over the years, and obviously I know that many people equate reading it with giving tacit approval to religions and their activities.  I know all this, and I want you to read it anyways.

Because it’s an important book.

Not necessarily a great book; I mean it was written a long time ago and compiled by countless individuals collating innumerable accounts and creations, and accusing it of bias would be like accusing water of being wet; not only redundant but also redundant.  But important?  Forget about it.

This book is (at least in part,) the foundation of so much of Western civilization.  To leave the Bible out of one’s education is like omitting Shakespeare from a modern curriculum (oh wait, bad example,) or ignoring the contributions of Greek philosophers to the development of Western thought.

One can barely teach the concept of allusion without alluding to the Bible.  Our own language is entirely permeated with such references, while the book remains the prime source of baby names for people who are not so emotionally needy they would saddle their offspring with some yuppie garbage like Bleu, Aiden or Addysyn. 

And the values and ideals within are considered the underpinnings of modern culture and society.  The Bible is at least cited as the inspiration for countless writers, lawmakers and leaders who have shaped our contemporary civilization.  Something that served, in any small part, as an inspiration for so many who have in turn inspired so much of what we value ourselves simply has to be worth a look.

But the true stars of the Bible are the stories.  Action, adventure, violence, blood and gore, thrills and chills, romance, it’s all in there.  From the numerous battle scenes to the rom-com antics of Rachel and Jacob, there are some great ancient stories in there, many of them displaying a level of sophistication many do not associate with tales of such antiquity.  Even if you’ve heard the stories countless times before (usually in those awful low-budget animated videos,) every soul in Christendom (and out,) should really read them in their original text.

Now I know what worries you, revealed in your gentle shoves out the door.  You do not subscribe to the religious beliefs, and fear that the stories only work if you believe in them as the literal truth.  Perhaps you associate stories like Adam and Eve with controversy and belligerent arguments, and feel that because you accept scientific explanations of natural phenomena, that these ‘mere fables and fairy tales’ have no use for you, and have nothing to offer you.

But plenty of folks who enjoy ‘mere fables and fairy tales’ avoid the stories in the Bible entirely, and that’s a real shame, because these stories are packed with meaning and significance for the studious reader.

All one needs to do is think of them as symbolism.   Think of them as lessons told in story, asking us to read them in search of meaning and message, and applying them to our own life experiences.  In that way, they are no different from any other collection of stories.  Viewed as metaphor, these are stories that can resonate with all who read them.

But what about those raised within the religion?  Many of the faithful are leery of reading too many of the stories in the Old Testament, lest they be confronted with those tales that are not very… apt for today’s audiences.  We all know that there are stories that fly in the face of modern beliefs, especially in regards to equality and human rights. 

In recent years, the chosen manner of dealing with these inconvenient sections has been to simply avoid them, delete them from the common rotation of reading like Disney did with Song of the South (the older folks in the audience know what I mean.)  But I don’t cotton to that.  I think the entire book should be appreciated as a whole.

This of course can pose a problem, but not of one simply views these less contemporary tales as symbolism, no different from any of the thousands of other stories we enjoy today.  Indeed, I will extend that suggestion to encompass all of the stories in the Bible.  Doing so, I assert, will greatly increase your enjoyment of the Bible as a work of literature.

But how can a person trained to accept Biblical accounts (all Biblical accounts,) as incontrovertible fact, possibly appreciate these stories as mere symbolism?

Blame Jesus.

No really, Jesus is the key.  You see, even if you believe, truly believe that every word of the Bible is meant to be taken literally, not every word of the Bible is meant to be taken literally.  Because Jesus.

Jesus Christ, Jesus of Nazareth, The Messiah, Yeshua Ben Miriam, The Lamb of God, Emmaunuel, Aslan, J-Dawg, Jeezy-Creezy, however you call him, his word carries a lot of weight, resonating like no other in the Western Canon (that term itself is saying quite a bit.)  And he had a lot to say in the Testament in which he appears (the New one, if you were unaware.)

Called ‘Rabbi’ by his followers, he does a lot of talking in the book.  Because that was his gig, really.  He was a teacher, first and foremost.  He did not perform too many really flashy miracles, or master dragons with his magic powers, or even fall from the path of righteousness in his youth, terrorizing others with his power and have to be corrected by his father to remember what he is on Earth for in a fully-developed character arc (actually he does all of these things in the Apocrypha, but you know how editors always leave the best parts on the cutting room floor.)

No, what he does is try to teach the people.  He talks and talks and talks, bringing his message of “knock off that sinning, already!” to the masses.  He leads by example with the whole ‘turning the other cheek’ thing, and extols the crowds with rousing speeches, but when he really wants to make a point, he whips out a parable.

Parables, in this context, are fiction; artificial stories designed to teach a moral lesson by presenting a hypothetical situation designed to make the reader think.  The veracity of the story is in no way pertinent to the message itself, it is how the reader interacts with the events of the story that conveys the crucial information, and that is the whole point of the telling.

So if parables are good enough for Jesus, why couldn’t a contemporary person of faith extend that to the rest of the Bible?  What if we considered the story of Noah’s Ark on the same level as the story of the Good Samaritan?  Rather than quibbling over unnecessary details like who Adam & Eve’s remaining son did his begetting with, or waving placards about gaps in the fossil record, what if everyone was able to enjoy the beauty of the story itself, and treat it as a valuable teaching aid, inspiring spirited discussion and analysis?

And that’s what I’m here to sell you today dear friend: the idea of Bible that is not secularized, but freed from its religious context.  A Bible that is open to everyone, and free to educate and enlighten anyone who is looking for guidance and wisdom.  A Bible that can bring all of its readers closer together in pursuit of understanding.

Thank you for your time and have a nice day.

Also, do you happen to have a Koran lying around?  I haven’t read that one yet, and I hear it has Djinn in it.   That sounds cool.