Sometimes we have to look at things from a different perspective. The images in this blog were taken within minutes of eachother as I lay in the same pew in the church I serve shooting up at the chandelier. Their only difference? What light I shone upon it and how closely I focused. I think they visually say all I mean to in this entry.
Everyone smiles when their picture is being taken, well, most everyone. This is the chandelier up close with the flash on. It is beautiful and yet it is sterile. It isn't showing its wear or accurately what it looks like hanging in the middle of the wide open sanctuary. This is the image we'd put in the directory. This is the image we'd hang on our office doors were we so inclined. It is the chandelier devoid of context, spotlighted as its own monument in an unbreathing world. Too often this is how we see eachother, as a well lit snapshot. And the truth is much more complex and dark and interesting and beautiful. We need more information to gain perspective.
This is the chandelier seconds later with no flash, only the natural light shining through the windows on an average sunny day. You can see its age. You can see that it appears dark and green; mysterious and old. This is a truer depiction of this chandelier. It has not been given the benefit of its own light, but rather the light its surroundings supply. This picture gives us a deeper understanding of the chandelier, hanging beside a window, darkened by shadows, tinted green as it hangs above. But there is a deeper, truer picture to see. There is another perspective we can gain, even in this one spot.
Here we can see the chandelier in even more of its context. It is the center of a complicated intersection of light and sound and angles and shadow. The chandelier hangs in the middle of the room, recieving first the words and song pouring from the speakers hung nearby, catching the light some sides near it cannot recieve. This is an even truer image of the chandelier. We see its place in the ceiling. We see how it hangs alone yet anchors the space around it. Yet there are always deeper levels of understanding to attain. I could show you a panorama of the sanctuary. I could show you the chandelier from the balcony view, from the choir loft, from the pulpit. It hangs above us and reflects the sun and displays the shadow differently from each angle. I could show you the church it stands in, then the street the church sits on, the town you'd find the street in, the county, the state, the country, the globe. I could show you satelite footage of the continent and images of Earth from space.
But some moment in the course of my understanding the chandelier from such a far off place, I'm no longer looking at the chandelier anymore. I lose perspective on the light and the dark and I no longer am seeking the truth, but rather trying to allow for the broadest view.
Believe it or not, this is my metaphor for Biblical interpretation...
Often, Christians focus on specific little moments of Bible teaching and snapshot them. When they do it is easier to come to terms and settle on right and wrong. We can even hang these simple 'yes'es and 'no's on the walls of our offices and courthouses and on the backs of our cars. But the Truth is so much bigger than the snapshot and so much more beautiful. The snapshot, while neat and simple, is out of its context and sterile.
There are also those, Christians and otherwise, who have a very broad view of what Truth is. I am kindred with these people. I often wonder if there is anything on Earth that can't be learned from and thus useful and thus truthful and thus a tiny bit of Truth. But viewing Truth, especially Biblical teaching from this broadest place also misses the beauty contained in the individual teaching and the amazing connections we may find to context and how the light shines on certain places and leaves others in shadowy mystery.
I am striving to have an idea of what I think my perspective needs to be. I can tell you it is broader than most of my contemporaries and all of my church. I can tell you that I find less light shining and less truth revealed on certain passages than others and that alone is a broader view. But yet I think the words matter and the context matters and there is no such thing as 'truth is relative.'
Love should always be good. Death should always be bad. Life should always be valued. Moving my focus toward the moment; who we love should never be questioned, who we would kill should always be, and lives should always be worth uncomforatble and painstaking concessions. I reject those who tell me that understadning The Bible, Truth, and God is simple and black and white. I also reject those who say God is just the sum of all creation and every perspective and truth is point of view.
What does this mean? I suppose the lesson for me is that I have more to discover. I suppose that should be the lesson for all of us. I want to see God from close up and far away. I believe he can be found in the focused moments out of context and the bigger picture beyond all contexts. I think for me the moment I can see the intersection of light and sound and angles and shadow will be when I declare Truth present; in my Bible reading, in my ministering, in my living.
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