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

by E. Randolph Richards

The group was ethnically, racially, socioeconomically and religiously diverse.

Our goal is to raise this question: if our cultural context and assumptions can cause us to overlook a famine, what else do we fail to notice?

If our cultural blind spots keep us from reading the Bible correctly, then they can also keep us from applying the Bible correctly.

in a nearly unprecedented theatrical style during the Great Awakening, which led thousands to experience new birth in Christ.[3] Consequently, other preachers, who traditionally read their sermons from manuscripts, adopted more energetic and extemporaneous styles of communication in the entertaining vein of a theater actor. The old meetinghouse seating arrangement gradually gave way to theater seating, with a stage front and center and stadium-style seats facing forward.

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.

While the entire region was technically Galatia by Roman designation, the inhabitants of the southern region preferred their provincial names, a practice Luke knew: “Parthians, Medes and Elamites; residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia [i.e., not ‘Galatians’], Egypt and the parts of Libya near Cyrene; visitors from Rome” (Acts 2:9-10). They did not want anyone confusing them with those uneducated barbarians in the north. When the churches in this region act foolishly, Paul writes to chasten them. He addresses them harshly: “You foolish Galatians!” (Gal 3:1). This is roughly equivalent to someone in the United States saying, “You stupid rednecks.” Paul is employing an ethnic slur to get his readers’ attention.

Imagine retelling the story of Ruth and Boaz today and saying, “Boaz the Israeli” and “Ruth the Palestinian.” How might that affect how you read the story?

Israel’s Knesset just passed a law barring Palestinian spouses (3/11/22)

Paul struggles for a Greek word to describe the fruit (singular) of the Spirit. He describes it as a “love-joy-peace-patience-kindness-goodness-faithfulness-gentleness-self-control kind of fruit” (Gal 5:22). 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.

Middle Easterners then (and now) prefer dramatic language, what Bruce Metzger calls “picturesque speech.” We were reminded recently in a dramatic way when CNN covered elections in Afghanistan. There were some irregularities at one of the polling stations, and protestors were shouting. The English subtitles read: “Death to the Vote Counters!” Really? Death? Well, that was probably a literal translation. We suspect what they meant was, “We’re really upset!”

"Fuck the police"

The Khmus tribesperson, for whom leaving his or her tribal home is a terrifying thought, would like the biblical image better: God brings his kingdom here. The New Jerusalem descends down to our current home: “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them” (Rev 21:3). When we superimpose our image of leaving “this world of woe” onto the Christian story, we turn the gospel of good news into bad news for people like the Khmus.

If we’re not careful, our individualistic assumptions about church can lead us to think of the church as something like a health club. We’re members because we believe in the mission statement and want to be a part of the action. As long as the church provides the services I want, I’ll stick around. But when I no longer approve of the vision, or am no longer “being fed,” I’m out the door. This is not biblical Christianity. Scripture is clear that when we become Christians, we become—permanently and spiritually—a part of the church. We become part of the family of God, with all the responsibilities and expectations that word connotes in the non-Western world. We don’t choose who else is a Christian with us. But we are committed to them, bound to them by the Spirit. And we are not free to dissociate our identities from them—mainly because once we are all in Christ, our own individual identities are no longer of primary importance. Paul used the metaphor of a body to emphasize that all the parts belong to and depend on one another (1 Cor 12).[13]

For this reason, the mythical “ring of Gyges” was considered the one temptation that no man could resist. The ring made its bearer invisible. With it on, a man could do whatever he wished without others knowing. You may recognize this storyline; J. R. R. Tolkien used it in the Lord of the Rings trilogy. The movie didn’t explain, though, why humans found the “one ring” so tempting. Plato knew. “No man can be imagined to be of such an iron nature that he would stand fast in justice” if he was free to act without anyone’s knowledge, Plato wrote; “No man would keep his hands off what was not his own when he could safely take what he liked out of the market.”[5] The suggestion is that ordinary humans do right only if others are watching. Plato

We tend to view everything as an “either-or.” Aristotle’s use of syllogisms and, ultimately, the dualism of Descartes have conditioned Westerners to polarize choices into two opposing categories.[6] (Many readers will be trying to decide if we are right or wrong about this!) Eastern thought, influenced by the Tao and Confucius, the yin/yang, tend to strive for harmony rather than distinction, stressing more a both-and perspective rather than an either-or.

The risk of shaming can likewise affect the way that entire governments act. After the 2004 tsunami in Indonesia, Westerners rushed to help. The hardest-hit region, Aceh, has always protected itself from outsider influence. (Most Westerners would call this isolationism.) In this case, preferences had to be put aside. I (Randy) had never dreamed I would ever set foot in Aceh; yet, within weeks of the tsunami, I was leading medical teams there. Acehnese people were gracious and grateful. After a few months, though, the Acehnese government fretted over how their people would respond to so many foreigners everywhere. They worried the people might conclude their government wasn’t protecting them properly from foreign influence. There was risk of shame. So the Acehnese government demanded that foreigners leave. They didn’t want the foreigners to leave. They didn’t expect them to leave. They made the demand in order to save face, to show that they cared about their people. Indonesian vice president Jusuf Kalla needed to show that he honored the wishes of the Acehnese provincial government, so he demanded all foreigners leave the country by March 26, which was three months away. He didn’t actually want the foreigners to leave, nor did he expect them to. Asians understood all this. Malaysian defense minister Najib Razak, speaking for the countries of Southeast Asia, noted the timetable and later commented that foreign aid would remain as long as needed. From his perspective, everyo...

The media frequently report a politician’s misbehavior. Often someone will respond, “What he does privately is his business. Public life and private life are separate matters.” Yet the Bible views life holistically. A lack of integrity in any part of a ship’s hull is still a risk of breach; it doesn’t matter if it is the port or the starboard side. Sin is never really private. Is a divorce really just the private business of two people? What about the children? What about the grandparents? Are coworkers and friends really immune? How have you seen “private” sin have corporate consequences?

Rather than an image of a contract or a courtroom, the Christian life is more helpfully viewed as a journey along a road (a hodos, a “way”), to use Jesus’ image. Along this road, there is a ditch on both sides. The goal is to avoid both ditches, which means that the difference between good instruction and bad instruction depends upon which ditch you have drifted toward. The problem with the Western view of a rule is that it has to always apply. But “veer right” is only good instruction if you’re headed into the ditch on the left.

I’m often perilously close to the ditch on the right. Such instruction—to veer left a bit—may be helpful for an old Pharisee like me, who regularly perches on the edge of the ditch of legalism. Yet the very same advice (“veer left”) is an absolutely dreadful thing to tell a nineteen-year-old college student, who is at no risk of legalism. Many first-year students I know are dangerously close to the ditch on the left, the one marked “lawlessness.” The Spirit tells them to “veer right”: to tighten up their standards. Again, such a whisper in my heart would be wel-come but dreadful advice for me; it would likely propel me straight into the ditch of self-righteousness. But our Western worldview dislikes an image of the Christian life that implies there are different rules for me and for you. The very wording—“different rules for me and for you”—rings of basic unfairness.

To the non-Western mind, it seems, a law is more a guideline. Americans would likely want to change the Indonesian law to read, “Most pastors must be male,” and then we would argue over the percentage. The Indonesian—and arguably the biblical—view of law always left room for exceptions. Paul states, “I do not permit a woman to teach or to assume authority over a man; she must be quiet” (1 Tim 2:12). “But what about Priscilla and Junia?” we might ask Paul. “They taught in church. You said women must keep silent.” Perhaps Paul would answer, “Yes. And most of them do.”

As Westerners, we have two tendencies when interpreting these lists of vices. First, we often rank them. We consider certain vices as worse than others. Western Christians often view sexual sins as worse than others (we touched on this in chapter one). It goes without being said among Western Christians that sexual sins are really bad. In fact, when Western Christians attempt to address other sins, they sometimes hear responses such as, “You aren’t paying attention to the important things” or “You’re nitpicking.”

Our second tendency is to emphasize vices and deemphasize virtues. After discussing vices, Paul offers a list of virtues: “Clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience” (Col 3:12). Again he gives a list of five. Before Paul lists his summary word, love, he actually interjects into his list an exhortation to forgive, likely because slander and some of the other sins of speech that Paul is encouraging them to cast off have caused hurt feelings in the church. What went without being said in Paul’s day was that it is not enough to remove vices; one must acquire virtues. The clothing metaphor indicates that.

In addition to ranking vices, we also supplement the biblical lists with virtues and vices from our own culture. Thus self-sufficiency, likely a vice by biblical standards, is considered a virtue in the West. Likewise, we add procrastination and plagiarism to our list of vices, even though there is nothing explicit about either of these in the Bible.

Fighting for freedom. It is readily accepted in American public discourse, and among many American Christians, that “Freedom is worth fighting for.” Jesus didn’t think so. Jesus could have joined the Jewish resistance that was fighting for the liberty of Israel from Roman rule. But he didn’t. Worse, he told his disciples not to. Instead of resisting the Romans, he taught radical obedience. When a Roman soldier strikes you, turn the other cheek. When he forces you to carry his gear one mile, willingly carry it two (Mt 5:39, 41). Worst of all, he told them that when the fighting started, they should “flee to the mountains” (Mt 24:16). John Wayne wouldn’t have fled for the hills.

Pax Americana. Jesus comments, “My peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives” (Jn 14:27). Jesus’ disciples knew who Jesus meant by “the world.” It was plastered on city walls, engraved on columns and stamped on coins. The Roman Empire prided herself on peace, the famed Pax Romana. Rome had indeed brought peace to that part of the world. For the first time, ships could ply the Mediterranean without fear of pirates. Travelers could move freely along the roads with little fear of bandits. Roman peace, though, was secured by the sword. When trouble started, the Roman military was there to stop it. They entered with overwhelming force. No one messed with them. Military force is an effective way to bring peace. The United States is famed worldwide for Pax Americana, for bringing peace the same way the Romans did. It does work, but Jesus said he didn’t bring peace that way.

Leadership. How would you rather be recognized: as a leader or a follower? For many Westerners, the term follower connotes a weakness of character, as when a person cannot resist peer pressure but “goes along with the crowd.” Follower connotes a lack of creativity and ambition, portraying the average office worker as a drone dutifully churning out unimportant work under the direction of a (sometimes) talented and successful manager. By contrast, the term leader connotes a constellation of virtues. It implies that a person is efficient, creative, productive and charismatic enough to encourage others to be the same. Businesses want to hire leaders, not followers. And, perhaps ironically, so do churches. The importance of leadership among Christians is illustrated by the fact that one of the most influential magazines for church leaders in the United States is called Leadership Journal. As much as our culture pushes us to be leaders, the Bible urges us to become followers.

Tolerance. I (Brandon) teach Introduction to World Religions at a secular college. Among my students, the American virtue of tolerance is regularly on full display. Students may roll their eyes or smirk now and then at notions of the supernatural that they consider quaint or naïve, but if you press them, they know better than to criticize anyone’s religious beliefs outright. Their instinctive tolerance leads them to say silly things such as, “All of the world’s religions are true.” It would make more sense to say that they are all false. But that would be intolerant. Tolerance is clearly not a biblical virtue.

How much are you teaching biblical values versus cultural values? Money management is a helpful skill to survive in middle-class America. (The poor have no money to manage, and the wealthy hire money managers.) If you plan to live in middle-class society, then you need to learn these survival skills. Likewise, if you plan to live in Borneo, then you need to learn how to sleep in the jungle. Neither set of skills is biblical, but both are handy. It is fine for a church in the United States to offer courses in money management. A local Haitian church offers courses in English conversation. We would not consider ESL courses to be biblical; yet aren’t money management courses often pitched as biblical? By what criteria do we determine if our teaching on a virtue such as money management is biblical and not simply cultural?

When the “me generation” became Christians, we baptized this egocentrism. We now felt guilty for spending all our money on ourselves. So we gave it to the church. Mainly to our own local church. The church growth (megachurch) movement was led by baby boomers and populated with the “me generation.” We built modern cathedrals with children’s ministry spaces that Disney would covet. We still gave (and give) money to missions, but preferably for a trip that includes me. We sing the (beautiful) praise chorus, “It’s all about you, Jesus.” Who are we kidding? It’s all about Jesus—as long as it’s in a service I like, in a building I like, with people I like, with music I like, for a length of time I like. At some point in this generation, “Take up your cross and follow me” changed into, “Come to Jesus and he’ll make your life better.”

That is, we fast-forward the outcome. God does indeed prosper his people. About seventy years later, they are returned to the land with blessing. Most Western Christians who quote this verse would not be happy to acknowledge that the plans God has for his people may not be clear for two generations.

There's a Native American notion of "7 generation" decision-making, where you make decisions for the good of the 7th generation from now. I believe the recycled paper towel company chose its name from that.

Their use of this verse implies that the current tragedy may seem like a setback, but in fact it is part of God’s plan to accomplish something greater, something that will be clear in retrospect. We reach this application by misreading in two ways. First, we misunderstand “all things.” Without thinking, we turn “God works all things together for good” into “All things are good.”[8] Clearly, this is not what the passage means. A few verses later, Paul indicates his audience is facing serious trials, including “trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword” (Rom 8:35). In Romans 8:28 he is asserting that all things—good things, bad things, senseless things, the actions of good people or bad people, good governments or bad empires—are all tools in the hands of an active, caring God who is faithful to bring about his purposes. This verse never meant that everything that happens is a good thing.

Second, to avoid deriving a strictly individual interpretation of a biblical passage, ask yourself how you might apply the passage differently if you interpret it in corporate terms, rather than in individual terms. Practice asking, “How does this passage apply to God’s people?”

With the outbreak of the H1N1 virus, moderns have been reintroduced to the threat of pandemics. We have always been susceptible, of course, but most of us have short memories. When the next plague strikes, do we cite Psalm 91:5-7?

There is danger in allowing a homogenous group of white, middle-class American teenagers to decide together what Scripture means. They are liable to interpret Philippians 4:13 as God’s promise that they will be able to afford the next generation cell phone. The same danger lurks when a white, middle-class American church decides what Scripture means or, worse, an equally homogenous seminary trains the next generation of theologians. May we seek to read Scripture with “persons from every tribe and language and people and nation” (Rev 5:9).