In the craft of writing, reading aloud helps uncover mistakes, from weak sentences to simple typos. Reading the Bible aloud, whatever the translation, is never about finding mistakes though.
First, the Biblical words were passed along by reading aloud, by one person sharing with another. The Bible is not filled with infallible written words that arrived intact and fully formed. The library called the Bible is filled with verses and phrases once memorized “by heart” and frequently sung or dramatically presented. They were first children’s stories, campfire tales and word pictures.
Second, reading it aloud claims community. Read the Bible aloud as part of your prayer time and anticipate God’s communal presence. Read to others, with the expectation that another both listens and questions.
We are a “people of the word,” but the written word was second, while the spoken word—a voice rising to publicly seek and receive forgiveness between individuals or to call for and demand justice from institutions—came long before carefully numbered verses and tables of contents.
None of Jesus’ parables are long; several are quite short.
The 6th Sunday of Ordinary Time – for July 24, 2011
“He put before them another parable…” (Matthew 13:31)
The lengthier ones unfold over several paragraphs and, if spoken, will still take less than five minutes to complete. The briefest? You could tweet them, using perhaps one or two easily understood abbreviations, and they’d remain virtually (and literarily) intact.
Often the shortest stories seem as simple and uncomplicated as their subject matter: seeds, bits of yeast or a single pearl. One of the leanest parables, and a favorite of mine is . . .
The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. (Matthew 13:44, NRSV).
32 words. 157 characters and spaces. This flash-in-the-pan parable is unique to Matthew’s gospel. I could jokingly imagine the writers of Luke and Matthew (who most reputable scholars would guess scribed their accounts around the same time, perhaps 40-60 years after Jesus’ ministry) got together and picked straws to determine who used which parables. Matthew clearly kept getting the short straws since Luke has the word rich, complex parables like the so-called Prodigal Son and Good Samaritan. To unfairly expand this short straw vs. long straw rivalry, maybe the writers of Mark and John weren’t allowed to even play. Mark contains only a handful of parables and John—with one or two debatable exceptions—is tale-less.
If I had to choose only one parable to help a non-Christian understand what it means to follow Jesus, or to help a believer revitalize his or her faith, I likely wouldn’t choose the tweet-ready shorter ones. If I’m going to proselytize a pagan and inspire a backslider, I’ll go with the grandeur of the Good Samaritan. Its multiple characters are engaged in life and death struggles and (here, have a John Williams film score swell in the background) a hero emerged who does the right thing at the right moment. Maybe, if I wanted to guide my curious pagan or bored-in-the-pew occupant down a long and winding path, I’d take a deep breath and tell Matthew’s Workers in the Vineyard parable. That’ll get a debate underway quicker than you can say, “Idon’tgetit.” Since the Workers story (Matthew 20:1-16) can easily trigger unsettled reactions, we might soon be debating the contemporary hot potato of illegal immigrants working in the field or how bosses are unfair. All parables, but especially the longer ones, easily transport a first or twenty-first century audience into digressions and disagreements. But after all the sound and fury, signifying something, I’d steer the conversation back to Matthew’s novel-like Chapter 20 story about how some seem never to understand God’s gift of grace. Continue reading →