Skip to main content

Revisionist Bible Stories

This school year I've been having fun with the Day School kids in Chapel. John will play his guitar or banjo and lead the kids in fun songs and I teach them great stories from the Bible, using as many props as I can muster. We're a good combination, I think.

It has been interesting deciding which stories to tell the kids, deciding how to craft them so as not to traumatize the the children, thinking about the message/theology I hope to leave them with. I came up with a year plan that walks through some of the great Old Testament stories for the first few months, then will start into the great New Testament stories by delving into the birth narratives for Advent.

Yesterday, we talked about Samuel anointing David as the next king of Israel. First, I talked a little bit about prophets, then a little bit about King Saul who had started out listening to God but then stopped listening and started doing his own thing. And then I morphed into Samuel, traipsing to Jesse's house to figure out which of his kids would be chosen by God as the next king. My first foray into revisionist story-telling came then. I couldn't stand talking about the SONS of Jesse and excluding the girls from the story. Excluding them from the possibility of being chosen by God as special and as leaders. And so my daughter's giant doll played the part of one of Jesse's children, along with a giant leopard, a few dogs, an elephant, and a chicken.

"Samuel" went up to each one, musing about how they were so big or strong or good-looking and therefore must be the one chosen by God. But each time God said, "No - that's not the one. You're looking just at the outside. I look inside, at a person's heart." That's the part of the story I adore. That's the moral and theological lesson I want the kids to take away from it. But unfortunately, the rest of the story, as written, is pretty disappointing.

"Samuel" goes through all of Jesse's sons that are present and determines that none of them are God's chosen leader. So he questions Jesse and finds out that there is this young shepherd son that has been out in the field all this time. In comes David, soon to be anointed the next king. And here's how I WANT the story to go next. I want God to shout out to Samuel, "This is the one! My chosen next king! He may not look like much, but his heart is so full of love for me!" But instead, we are told that David "was ruddy, and had beautiful eyes, and was handsome." We don't hear anything about his honorable, loving, kind inside - even the Bible writers were stuck on appearances. And so came my second foray into revisionist story telling. My 3 year old kindly agreed to be David. I pulled him up and said, "David wasn't the oldest. He wasn't the tallest. He wasn't the best-looking. He may not even have been the wisest. But he loved God with all his heart. And God chose him to be the next king of Israel."

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Gospel as Stand-Up Comedy

April 8, 2018 Easter 2 John 20:19-31 Today in the church world is often called Low Sunday because of the generally low attendance.  After all, everyone came last week and heard the biggest story of all! So church can be crossed off the to-do list for a while. Have you heard the joke about the man who came out of church on Easter and the minister pulled him aside and said, "You need to join the Army of the Lord!" The man replied, "I'm already in the Army of the Lord."  The minister questioned, “Then how come I don't see you except at Christmas and Easter?" The man whispered back, "I'm in the secret service."   I recently heard a name for today that I much prefer to Low Sunday - Holy Humor Sunday.  Apparently, the early church had a tradition of observing the week following Easter Sunday as "days of joy and laughter" with parties and picnics to celebrate Jesus' resurrection.  And so there is a (small but grow

Shining Like the Sun

Last Epiphany Exodus 34:29-35; Luke 9:28-36 My youngest daughter, Maya, will turn 9 years old on Tuesday.  Which makes me feel a bit nostalgic. Just yesterday she was my baby, happily toddling after her older brother and sister.  A naturally joyful person, she was just as excited about a trip to the grocery store as a trip to the zoo, so she transformed our boring chores into adventures just by her presence.  And now she is this big kid -- a total extrovert who loves making slime and turning cartwheels. Sometimes Maya’s birthday is just a regular day.  Every once in a while it falls on Ash Wednesday (which makes celebrating a little hard).  This year, it’s on Shrove Tuesday, which is perfect for her! Because Maya is our pancake fairy. In our house, whenever we find ourselves with a free Saturday morning, Maya and I make pancakes.  We work side by side, laughing and sniffing and tasting -- and sometimes pretending we are competing on a Chopped championship.  Often there is

Is Jesus passing through our midst? (4 Epiphany Sermon)

Luke 4:21-30 “But passing through the midst of them he went away.” At first glance, this last line from this morning’s Gospel seemed like a perfect metaphor for this season of Epiphany. Jesus passes through the midst of the crowd. Which is, in a way, what Epiphany is all about – God making God’s self known in our midst, our learning to recognize God all around us. The problem of course, which is so often the problem with pieces of scripture that at first seem very promising, is that that isn’t all. The context isn’t the greatest – the crowd that Jesus is passing through the midst of just happens to be an angry, unruly, blood-thirsty mob. And there’s the small problem of the few words tacked on to the end of the hopeful part about passing through their midst – after passing through, “he went away.” I’d much prefer Jesus to have passed through their midst and then have them realize their error; or maybe Jesus could pass through their midst and they finally understand exactly who it w