Boats & Scripture

One day earlier this week, (I forget which day because all this house painting and home repair blend my past two months into one long day), anyhow maybe Tuesday my friend Barbara White happily interrupted my painting to take me to breakfast at Dave’s Diner.

As usual our conversation ranged over a wide variety of topics from activities of children to recently-read books.

At one point she made a telling remark that has stayed with me.

I told her about a 700+ page book I’ve been reading, a survey of the Old Testament. The authors examine various theories of inspiration. They critique Wellhausen’s theory about J, E, P and Q sources, and they compare biblical chapters with ancient Ugarit texts. They delve into possible sources Bible writers and editors may have used in transmitting God’s Word.

Years ago I wrote a light newspaper column about Bible transmission so I’m a bit familiar with the scholars’ approach to Scripture. And I find their speculations interesting but curious.

It’s good to know that such scientists as archaeologists, paleographers, papyrologists, translators and textual critics devote such intense study to the Bible. Their researches are far beyond my understanding but it’s good to know that such scholars exist.

Saint Peter said, “Prophecy came not in old time by the will of man; but holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost”.

And Paul said, “All Scripture is given by inspiration of God…”

The interesting thing is that both Peter and Paul use nautical terms for the words moved and inspiration. It’s as though they were talking about a breath of wind filling the sails of a ship to push it through the sea.

I’ve read in my ponderous Old Testament Survey up to the book of the prophet Amos, a man who claimed to be no prophet nor the son of a prophet. Yet he was moved by the Spirit to write.

I think of the biblical writers as different kinds of boats moved by the wind to the same port. Some books like John’s three letters seem like windsurfers darting over the waves on a surfboard with a sail attached. Others like Paul’s letters remind me of oil tankers heavy-laden with crude to be refined into energy for running our daily lives with gas for electricity, cars and lawnmowers. James and Peter’s letters resemble fishing boats bringing in a practical catch. Isaiah is a container ship plowing through rough seas carrying the treasures of the Orient. The Psalms are a runabout with a leisure fishermen lounging while dangling a line in the water. Canticles is a pleasure yacht and the Pentateuch is a tug — all moved across the water by the breath of God and all sailing to and from the same port.

And on every boat, there’s some poor glob crawling around on hands and knees chipping paint.

That’s me.

Hey, it all can’t be pretty imagery.

Anyhow, as I enthused to my friend Barbara about Ugaritic texts and papyrology, she related how she was touched to tears by the Good Friday service at her church.

“John,” she said, “I don’t believe in God because of the Bible; I believe the Bible because of God”.

She’s way ahead of me in understanding Scripture.

Oh, the Four Gospels?

What kind of ship are they?

I picture a brilliant white cruise ship with the Captain welcoming passengers at the head of the gangplank and saying, “Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest”.