Misreading Scripture with Western Eyes: Removing Cultural Blinders to Better Understand the Bible

by E. Randolph Richards

The majority of our worldview, like the majority of an iceberg, is below the water line. The part we notice—what we wear, eat, say and consciously believe—is really only the visible tip. The majority of these powerful, shaping influences lurks below the surface, out of plain sight.

Another way to say this is that the most powerful cultural values are those that go without being said. It is very hard to know what goes without being said in another culture.

When a passage of Scripture appears to leave out a piece of the puzzle because something went without being said, we instinctively fill in the gap with a piece from our own culture—usually a piece that goes without being said. When we miss what went without being said for them and substitute what goes without being said for us, we are at risk of misreading Scripture.

Christians are tempted to believe that our mores originate from the Bible.

What can be more dangerous is that our mores are a lens through which we view and interpret the world. Because mores are not universal, we may not be aware that these different gut-level reactions to certain behaviors can affect the way we read the Bible. Indeed, if they are not made explicit, our cultural mores can lead us to misread the Bible.

It’s tempting to read Peter’s response as self-righteousness. “I have never eaten anything impure or unclean,” he says (Acts 10:14). He’s been a good Jew all his life, and not even God can make him compromise his scruples. But perhaps Peter’s reaction to the vision is not simply righteous indignation; maybe it is nausea. No doubt Peter would have been disgusted by the very idea of eating the animals presented in the sheet. Restrictions against eating pork and shellfish are legalities to us. But for first-century Jews, they were deeply entrenched dietary (cultural) mores. The Lord’s command might evoke a similar feeling in Westerners if we were confronted with a sheet full of puppies and bats and cockroaches. “Kill and eat,” says the Lord. Like Peter, we would almost certainly reply, “Surely not, Lord!

When the first Christians were trying to decide whether Gentile Christians should keep Jewish dietary laws, they weren’t just quibbling over doctrine. Just like we do, ancients were transferring their feelings about certain food onto the people who ate them.

Finally, the best way to become sensitive to our own presuppositions about cultural mores—what goes without being said for us—is to read the writing of Christians from different cultures and ages. Being confronted with what others take for granted helps us identify what we take for granted. The point of collision is a priceless opportunity for learning. No one has said this better, as far as we know, than C. S. Lewis in his now-classic introduction to Athanasius’s On the Incarnation. Lewis advises readers to read at least one old book for every three new ones. Here is his reason: “Every age has its own outlook. It is especially good at seeing certain truths and especially liable to make certain mistakes. We all, therefore, need the books that will correct the characteristic mistakes of our own period. And that means the old books. . . . Not, of course, that there is any magic about the past. People were no cleverer then than they are now; they made as many mistakes as we. But not the same mistakes.

Of course, our purpose in all this is not simply to know the Bible better. Our ultimate goal should be to live the Christian life more faithfully. We need to be aware of our mores because they can contradict Christian values.

Paul is not giving us a list of various fruits, from which we may pick a few. Rather, he gives us a list of words that circle around the one character of a Spirit-filled life he is trying to describe.

“point of a metaphor is to bring together the whole of one thing with the whole of another, so that each is looked at in a different light.”15

“Today I quit being a Christian. I’m out. I remain committed to Christ as always but not to being ‘Christian’ or to being part of Christianity.

For ten years, I’ve tried. I’ve failed. I’m an outsider. My conscience will allow nothing else.”

In shame cultures, people are more likely to choose right behavior on the basis of what society expects from them. It is not a matter of guilt, nor an inner voice of direction, but outer pressures and opinions that direct a person to behave a certain way.

We deceive ourselves when we think sin is individual and independent of a community’s honor. Our individualism feeds the false sense that sin is merely an inner wrong—the private business between me and God, to be worked out on judgment day. Paul thought otherwise. He considered sin yeast that influenced the whole batch of dough (1 Cor 5:6). The church in Corinth was having problems with the fellowship meal and the Lord’s Supper.

For wealthy and self-righteous would-be disciples, Jesus pointed out the exacting requirements for righteous living (Lk 18:18-23), but to those weary of sin he called his way “easy” and “light” (Mt 11:30). Jesus required one disciple to sell everything to follow him (Mt 19:21), yet he apparently hadn’t required Peter to do so (Jn 21). He asked one disciple to leave his family (Mt 8:21-22), but apparently he did not make the same request of Lazarus, Mary and Martha (Jn 11). It seems that rules applied, except when they didn

God’s judgment was influenced by his relationship with sinners (Hos 11:9-10). Exodus 12:40-49 explains that all males must be circumcised to eat Passover. Yet in Joshua 5:5-7, it is obvious the sons born during the wanderings had not been.11 If rules apply except when they don’t, then as Westerners perhaps we need more wisdom in discerning when they don’t. (We need help seeing the kairos for applying the rules; perhaps there really is a season for everything under the sun.)

It teaches, to children who are too young to reason it out, a cultural value that goes without being said: you can’t expect to benefit from hard work if you aren’t willing to do hard work.

We are profoundly influenced by our culture to recognize certain behaviors as virtues and other behaviors as vices. These values are propagated in a number of ways.

For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future” (Jer 29:11).

It’s clear this verse is about ancient Israel and not me. Nevertheless, each of us finds a way to make this verse all about himself or herself.

In his 2005 book Soul Searching: The Religious and Spiritual Lives of American Teenagers, sociologist Christian Smith coined a now-famous term to describe the religion of most teens in the United States. He called it moralistic therapeutic deism. One aspect of moralistic therapeutic deism is the assumption that the purpose of religious faith is “providing therapeutic benefits to its adherents.” The average teen, according to Smith, doesn’t view humans as existing to do the will of God; rather, they view God as existing to meet human needs. Smith goes on, “What appears to be the actual dominant religion among U.S. teenagers is centrally about feeling good, happy, secure, at peace. It is about attaining subjective well-being, being able to resolve problems, and getting along amiably with other people.”4 Need a friend? God is there. Looking for direction in life? God has a plan. Want a more fulfilling marriage? God has the answers.

If we are encouraged to think about our relationships with God and the church in terms of what’s in it for me, it’s only natural that we approach the Bible the same way.

Our preoccupation with me also leads us to confuse application with meaning.