Lifeway: No Way to Life
O.K., say I had it coming to me, that I got what I asked for, or just call me plain stupid, but today I crossed the threshold of Lifeway Christian Bookstore in search of a bible. A salesboy approached me with intent to serve, and I said hoarsely (I've been sick) I was looking for a small, thin bible, preferably of the RSV (Revised Standard Version) translation and including the Apocrypha. I should have smelled trouble when he seemed not to be familiar with either term. Nevertheless, he led me to the section of the store that hosted their wide selection of English bibles, and I was suddenly taken aback. Wondering if the rapture had finally come, I found myself in a veritable cornucopia of God's Word, actualized and micro-specified down to the very threads of life that define me. Not only did I find the usual plenitude of translations, ranging from the very strict translations of KJV and NKJV, to the "general idea" Holy Bibles -- a la the Message and The New Living Translation -- but, indeed, Bible editions specialized for the individual. Among them I found the Soldier's Bible, the Marine's Bible, the Coast Guardman's Bible, the Police Officer's Bible, the Sportsman's Bible, the Bible for Boys and the Bible for Girls, the Bible for Teen Boys (and Girls), the Teacher's Bible, the Personal Evangelism Bible, the Woman's Bible, the Man's Bible, the Baby's Bible, to name a few. Along with that, I found a Battlezone Bible, tastefully coated in a full metal jacket, and an audio Bible that looked like an iPod.
When I came to myself, I realized I had gained a better picture of what heaven will be like. This was almost as good as my relative's description of heaven as "your perfect place" -- i.e. whatever you personally feel would be ideal for you, a personal paradise -- and my old babysitter's description of heaven as a place where you can eat an orange and have the sticky residue on your fingers automatically peel away.
I was a little disappointed, however, to find they weren't stocking the Juggler's Bible or the Soccer Mom's Bible. I'm sure the Word of God could be particularly illuminating for the modern-day jesters, like myself, or the moms out there, like my own, who spend their afternoons and evenings cheering their vocal chords raw in support of their little ones out on the field, much like the Israelites in the Exodus, who cried out in one voice to affirm their support of the Lord's commandments.
But seriously, folks, I left in dismay, not because I couldn't find a bible tailored to my own interests, but that the Bible has become an item to be commodified and adjusted, marketed to individual persons. What happened to the understanding that the Bible was God's word to his entire people, is to be understood and followed as a people toward the common sanctified goal? I remember ten years ago, if I walked into a Chrisitan bookstore looking to buy a Bible, I would be faced with a decision no more complicated than which translation I wanted (problematic in itself) and which size. Never would I have thought that the Bible should be specifically published and interpreted for me (or, back then, maybe I would have), or that I should be searching specifically for a Bible that spoke to my maleness, teenhood, hair and eye color, or future profession.
Standing in the aisles, doubly dumbfounded and amused, it struck me that Christianity -- or at least the Ameircan variety -- had completely capitulated to the materialism of our surrounding culture. Upon what premise, what supposed good intention, I wondered, could anyone have ever justified the printing of Holy Scripture so arbitrarily beneath the broad canopy of commodity? I saw the sacredness of Scripture being somehow trumped and outsold by the sweet song of profits, that age-old adage that if the people will buy it, we should produce it; only here it was rather if we produce, the people will buy it. Here the demand is not informing the supply, but vice versa. The turgid supply is dictating demand.
Thoroughly dissatisfied and having found no scripture pertaining to my needs, I quietly made my way through the alternate aisles toward the door. Nothing I saw in the store thereafter would repudiate my impression; rather everything corroborated it: the books for men and women respectively, the cheap and tacky ornaments, the bible-verse breath mints. Just before I left, I stopped briefly in the music aisle, and remembered almost fondly how often I used to come to stores such as this in search of genuinely good music, and oriented toward Christians. For me, in those days, the Christian bookstore was something of a lifesource, a way of reminding myself of my faith, and connecting in some way to others who bought into the same sub-par merchandise, all devised and developed with the subculture mentality in mind. Only the fondness of that naivete quickly dissipated, and I knew this is what the Church had become for many -- a place to come and buy stuff to make you feel better. It's as if the Christian bookstore of today has replaced the source of life for ancient Christians -- that is, the Eucharist, the Body and Blood of Christ, that which imparts the divine life of our Lord to us through holy communion.
Once, a great and passionate Christian, though perhaps a little over-zealous, revloted against the Christian status quo of his day and tried to reform the minds of those within the body of Christ. He saw the torrid state of affairs within the Church so grievous that he even coined it a "Babylonian Captivity" of the Church. Days like today make me wonder if Babylon hasn't resurfaced and retooled, only this time on a chariot of easy-listening music and inspirational, and altogether comforting, reading material...
Comments
But, the devil's advocate (what a term!) in me thinks that those personalized Bibles you mention may provide quite a gift to some... remember, Derek, when you and I would be the only two people at men's prayer? It wasn't because we were the only ones who cared about God, but the only ones self-initiated and broken enough to really value that time. The society that bred this strange individuo-Xian stuff also, in some ways, necessitates it — at least, I think, it does for some. To some war-surrounded soldier in Iraq, for instance, one whose roots are in the church and yet he's pulled so far from it... maybe The Soldier's Bible really WOULD be a boon to his faith, and a better one than the RSV with Apocrypha?
Still, your broader point resonates: the church is meant to be a body of believers, not a belief held by bodies.
Well, let it be known that the devil is a liar. As sentimental as the Soldier's Bible might make the Soldier receiving it, that may be all it could do for him beyond that of your general, nondescript Bible. I suspect somewhere deep down the printers of these bibles are thinking, "We have to make the Bible accessible to ALL people, make it known to them that it can speak truth to THEM." And if that's the case, I can't fault them for their good intentions. However, this is altogether an inappropriate result. If people don't see the Bible as applicable to them, it's could largely be the fault of those preaching, not the Word itself. To slap a variety of appellations on it and put it off as something specialized and distinct from what it's always been is to insinuate that it's somehow lacking and inadequatedly passed down to us.
A living, walking, thinking, breathing Christian whose a soldier should be able to find meaning applicable to him without a special edition just for him.
I would call for a boycott of Christian Bookstores if I weren't almost never in there anyway.
BUT: You say "If people don't see the Bible as applicable to them, it's could largely be the fault of those preaching, not the Word itself." That still begs the question, what to do? If a young (spiritually, I mean) Christian still needs the milk, and is not getting it from his pastor, should he not possibly find refuge in God's word if even he's a little more persuaded into it by some fancy cover design or even a foreword by Toby Mac? (Totally a joke, but I bet it will happen someday.) Neither you nor I see any value in it, obv., for ourselves. But in the particular culture in which we live, packaging/marketing does matter... it's nice to wish it didn't, but it does. And if The Soldier's Bible brings someone into a deeper walk with God by the virtue of its title/cover/whatever, insofar as that person might not have opened the plain-covered Bible because of some weakness of his own, then I really don't see that as the bad thing. The bad thing is the poor pastor, the poor parents, and overall just a shoddy human nature, the one I know so well from my years as a persecutor. After all, beneath the fancy cover and possibly the study notes, the Word of God still breathes and breathes mightily. (You, of course, must presume that this man finds God and by his will walks firmly with him through his days, where I insist God finds the man... but for practical purposes that's neither here nor there and has no considerable effect on the debate.)
By the way: One of the dumber things I've ever said to someone is related to this general topic. In college, when I was a hater (although honestly I still think it's sort of funny), this guy Kyle and I were on a trip together. He is black, and was reading the "Urban African-American Study Bible". I asked him whether it had been translated into ebonics. :-) Bad joke, I know, and an awful thing to say to a guy. Especially from a cracker like myself. Anyway, that's that.