We’ve all been raised on heroes and politicians and athletes that feign perfection. But in the Old Testament, the characters are all flawed. They are also all limited, because they are human, not divine. Some do awful things. In fact, they are just like real people. Thus, we all have our limitations, in that the specs of our design cannot exceed various parameters. We may feel ten feet tall but no one has ever been near that height. We may feel bulletproof but every king who has ever lived has passed away into death. This is going to take me a while to get to it, but we are like NASCAR, in that we have predictable speeds and power. We all seek power, but because of our limited dimensions and parameters, dictators and bullies end up like stock cars passing by, with the same engines and spoilers, but with different decals on the exterior to pretend they are unique. Each car is different, while each is the same. This is a both/and scenario. You can see this positively or negatively, but the end goal of each makes all the difference. What are you racing toward? That is the only question that matters in the end. If it’s not toward the highest good, then even if you finish in first place, you lose.
The Bible also shows our limitations as a group, such as the scapegoating mechanism and tribalism. Biblical characters would be cancelled today in our unforgiving modern era (depending on what party they belonged to). We live in a similar time of scapegoating as the Israelites did. This is because the law of Moses actually understood the problem with scapegoats and had a day of Atonement for sin management. You could call this an SMS - a Sin Management System, to use modern IT language. But today…we just have sin. We don’t manage it, because we don’t believe in it. We sweep it under the rug and pretend it isn’t there. Sin is old-fashioned, so we think. To follow the stock car analogy, this is like ignoring wires showing on tires, where a blowout is imminent.
But to use a different metaphor for a moment: sin is best likened to a disease like cancer, where our past unconfessed sins remain with us and grow to enormous proportions. When we read a medical article about someone who had a fifty pound tumor, we all say, “How could someone not know they had a fifty pound tumor?” The articles usually have a picture of the person with the glaringly obvious medical problem. It’s baffling to us how someone would not realize something was awry.
But most of us walk around carrying fifty pound spiritual tumors, from sins never repented. The sins from one-night stands, burned bridges, anger, hatred, and self-loathing all continue to grow on our souls, and will continue to do so, until the disease is loosed in confession. If only we could see each other’s souls. Interestingly, others usually can see our sins better than ourselves, as it’s so easy to know why someone else is spiritually ill, but we cannot see our own spiritual tumors. And so much of our sin is about power, or gaining an edge over someone, or protecting our little grove that we consider the self to be the king of. We all have a grove, even if it’s only our social media profile, where we feel like the king. But we’re not the king. I’m not the king, and realizing that is the greatest relief I’ve ever had. Knowing I’m a sinner allows me to stop pretending, stop fighting, stop squabbling over the scraps. There is a king, and it’s not me, and surrendering to the loving, living God is like having the massive tumor cut away, and all that ugly growth from many years of power-seeking behavior can be put aside.
This is why I like the Old Testament. We can see the diseased state of sinful lives. It’s so obvious. The supernatural reading of the Old Testament changes everything. (Michael Heiser, who recently passed away, has a documentary for helping you get started in this. Unless you believe in God, and the devil, you will read the Bible like a 21st century American and miss the whole point.)
Whenever someone points out the shortcomings of the Old Testament patriarchs or prophets, I want to remind them that, yes, exactly, you are catching on: sin is narrated in the Old Testament for a reason, and that reason is that these people were not the incarnation of God, like Jesus was, but were struggling in the world to work toward his grace, but failing and often choosing sin.
The Old Testament, unlike other mythology systems, shows the ugly side of humanity, and if you disagree, go read about Samson again in Judges and see if you still think he was a model for living. If you think of Samson as a saint, please stop and re-read his story. St. Augustine famously said, “It is narrated, not praised,” to help us understand a guy like Samson. But rest assured, Samson is in there for a reason. In fact, the Good Thief who repents on the Cross next to Jesus in his last minute is in there for a reason, a very good reason. His name is St. Dismas, and wouldn’t we all be so lucky to turn and see Christ in our last hour, in our last breath? (St. Dismas, pray for us.)
There is much to learn from the story of Samson, it’s just not that he was a good guy who could do whatever he wanted because God said so. If you read the Bible in that way, such that anyone under the banner of the Chosen people is flawless, then you have spiritually drawn the Monopoly card that reads: “Return to Go, do not collect $200.” You need to start again. If you read about Samson and say, “Well, clearly he was predestined and chosen, so he could do whatever he want.” Just stop. Think about what you are saying. Does it make any sense at all? Samson was supposed to be a monk consecrated to God (a Nazirite) who doesn’t sleep around, drink, touch dead things, or cut his hair. And what is his story? It’s doing all of those things, and even when he destroys the Philistines, he’s not doing it for the glory of God, he literally asks for strength to get revenge. If anything, Samson proves the old adage of “The Lord works in mysterious ways,” and the reason the story of Samson is important is because we see the strangeness of history, of sin, of leaders, of salvation history. When you go to read the Old Testament with “Chosen People” blinders on, you miss the richness of the narrative. As I said, the “white hat/black hat” Cowboy story that Americans want to find - it ain’t in the Old Testament.
But perhaps Samson did repent in his last hour. Perhaps God used him in ways radically beyond our finite minds. God takes care of the particular judgement for each person, not us. Sacred scripture illustrates lives and the arc of salvation history, and we are like ants catching a glimpse of something so far beyond our understanding, like a rocket, or a surgery, that we must stand in awe of creation and continue on in our faith and work without full knowledge. And that is the mystery of faith - though we can never know all things, we can know some things, and catch glimpses of God’s glory and learn the repeated lessons of redemptive suffering, with the Crucifix showing us over and over, that there is no way to heaven but through the Cross. And even Samson can show us that story.
Trent Horn wrote, “The Bible is not a sterile collection of perfect people who always follow God’s will. It is instead a drama about how God redeemed imperfect people and used them, in spite of their flaws, to accomplish his sovereign and holy will for mankind.”
And thank God for that, because a story of perfect robots is not a human story, and is not interesting unless you are under ten years old. The Great Story of Israel has much more going on than Wyatt Earp’s showdown. There is indeed a good guy and a bad guy, with God reclaiming the world from the fallen angels, but that is what we forget while we zero in on the individual character or verse. Not only are there fallen angels, there are fallen people, but here’s the point: those people are redeemable. Arguably, even the Pharaoh of Exodus is redeemable. Thus, when people get fired up over the violence in Joshua, or 2 Peter calling Lot “righteous” after he offers up his daughters for rape, they are reading it in a way that we don’t read or watch anything else. Why are we so dense at reading the Old Testament when we can follow intricate narratives in a ten-season TV shows that shows the depth and nuance of individual characters in a slow-burning plot? Why do we choose to read it like children?
It’s simple. Most of us haven’t really read it. If we have, we have not since we were children, so we got the white hat/black hat version of it, which is fine…until you are no longer a child. We haven’t even had a tour of the adult version, which is a much more serious and dark version. The flood story alone goes from being a happy pack of animals on a ship to an utterly terrifying world-ending mayhem.
Another possibility is that we received a dumbed-down fundamentalist reading of it, which is great for becoming familiar, but not for depth and nuance. And when I say fundamentalist, I mean both the Fundamentalists and the New Atheists, because both read the Bible in a way that gets little or nothing out of it. I can’t stress this enough: reading the Bible using the four senses of scripture is how it opens up into a four-dimensional trip. So many people charge in and say, “I’m going to read the Bible in a year” and they get to Leviticus or Numbers and stop because it’s boring and appears to be unrelated to the modern world, when in reality, all of it is central to the experience we are living in right now. If you are going to read the Bible in a year, follow the Bible in a Year tour guide, Father Mike Schmitz, and it will go far, far better than doing it on your own.
But the main reason why adults read the Bible like cowboy stories is this:
We read the Old Testament like ten year old pro-wrestling fans because we don’t understand that we are living in a spiritual war. In our modern assumptions about the world, we forget that ghosts are real. We use the word soul but laugh at the idea of ghosts. But the word is the same. We just have a cartoon version of “ghost” now due to TV shows like Scooby-Doo and Caspar, but we still know that we have souls in the quiet places of our hearts and minds.
Our adult, data-driven minds forget that there is more types of knowledge than what can be graphed or measured. We don’t accept that there is more than just matter, but also spirit. Admitting that angels and demons are real does not often come from college educated lips. Why? Because we think we know better. Frankly, we don’t read the Bible believing that God is real. Thus, we don’t understand the overarching story that leads to Christ’s defeat of the devil, and thereby miss the entire point of the entire library known as the Bible.
If you don’t believe in the devil, then you probably don’t believe in God. If you don’t believe in God, you probably don’t believe in souls. If you don’t believe in souls, you don’t believe that you could spend eternity in either heaven or hell. But you can. And you will.
This is the root problem for many of our social and mental maladies as well. We have numbed the part of our brain that allows for belief in the supernatural. We have flattened God into “all religions are the same” when they are anything but the same.
This is why whenever I read about an academic paper that suggests “all prehistoric peoples were egalitarian” I know immediately that I am reading modern propaganda, because not only do we not know that, but the authors of such things also have an agenda and bias, usually one that matches either liberalism, utilitarianism, postmodernism, post-colonialism, or (most often) socialism and communism. In short, an anti-Christian bias.
And if you don’t think that is true, enroll in a modern University and test this hypothesis. Attend any class in the departments of anthropology, history, English, or really any of the humanities, and listen for commentary on organized religion or belief in the supernatural. Anything that poses as science denies the supernatural, as it should. But, many things that pose as science are not actually science. There is an ideology creeping in everywhere, and the goal of any ideology is power. Universities have a spiritual nature, too, but the spirit is not from God. And in denying God, they fear language that speaks of God. A bias against Christianity is dogma today in nearly every school, public or private. The only lens you as a student can choose is the tinted goggles of modern scholarship. The creeds of modernism demand a denial of the supernatural, which is odd, because in the end, the supernatural will deny the modern man and woman who doesn’t cooperate with the free offer of grace.
If a history professor in his hiring interview suggested that Israel was a chosen people by God selected to bring about the Savior of souls, it’s difficult to imagine a callback happening for a second interview. That alone would be immediate cause for moving on to the next candidate to find someone who assented to the belief that all cultures were equally un-chosen. In higher education, the era of Christendom is treated like a child, one that never matured, but now we know better. It almost seems like the academic world has tried to put Catholicism into a group home for the elderly, so that it could be ignored. But the primary reason it’s not talked about is not that Catholicism isn’t true, it’s that Catholicism is a constant thorn in the side of the polite power grab, and power requires its enemies to be silent.
The creed of today is more aligned with the religion of humanism or socialism than Catholicism, but it is every bit as religious in nature. Because of this, universities have become a self-congratulating, backslapping loops of nonbelievers, where the jockeys in the horse race for tenure require adhering to specific speech codes, and shutting out all comers. We are in the Grove. The nonbelievers have a standing army, and whoever comes to slay the slayer will be the next priest-king. But the thing about power is that it’s all the same. Meet the new boss; same as the old boss.
It’s like NASCAR (back to the main metaphor). Every power seeker is ultimately the same. It is only the king who is the Suffering Servant that is different. Every single other power-seeker preaches the opposite of the Beatitudes. Like race cars, ideology that seeks power is trying to win a race. What is the race for power? It’s the idea that there is a solution to all the world’s ills through a set of ideas, rather than through God.
In NASCAR, cars must be built a certain way. Mechanics and engineers can only massage and tweak the strict engine and chassis requirements so much before the speed tops out, as by physics there is a limit to what can be done. There’s a blocker on what can be done with these cars. It’s the same with ideology, because like stock cars, ideas cannot exceed their worldly dimensions. Materialism, in all its forms, can only use the things of this world. Thus liberalism, capitalism, socialism, scientism, techno-utopia, postmodernism, utilitarianism, and the rest all have “the solution” to win the race, to stave off pain, to bring worldly victory, to bring heaven to earth. But if there is one thing Jesus showed us is that suffering is part of our lives here. Even he who cured diseases and cast out illnesses still had to suffer, and suffer greatly because of sin in the world. The cause of all suffering is personal sin, not external enemies, and until everyone realizes that we will indeed have oppression and suffering. The remedy is to follow both Commandments, to love God first, and then to love others as Jesus loved us. This is the lesson: that we must first seek the kingdom of God, and accept what suffering may come. When God is ready he will bring heaven to earth, and not before.
The stock cars of auto racing are like the stock beliefs of ideology that block the supernatural from our lives. I do believe that there is half of us that love God (or think we do) and another half that loves others (or pretend we do), and both are firing on only three cylinders instead of all six. You must put God’s love and love of others together to exceed the restrictions of this world’s physics, and yet - and yet, like NASCAR, there are still rules to follow while doing it, called the Commandments, and the way to do so is spelled out in detail in the Catechism of the Catholic Church.
But our modern gods of culture is limited by the constraints of unbelief. Unbelief in corporations, academia, and the media means we must assent to belief that we are alone, that God is not alive. So obviously, our efforts try to solve all suffering with ideas, and to break the physical and spiritual laws using ideology, which always ends up breaking all rules because it turns into a religion.
This is why we can all laugh (and cry) at the line: “In capitalism, man oppresses man. In communism, it’s just the opposite.” Power that defers to no Higher Power cannot accomplish what it sets out to do, which is to create heaven on earth. All of the kings of this world are the same people. What Democrats and Republicans in America often do not understand is that they are the same people, just as the Nazis and Communists were. It’s like any NASCAR feud. Take the skirmishes between Chase Elliott and Kevin Harvick at Bristol, for instance. Two drivers nearly duked it out over a race, while the crowd cheered it on. What are the drivers after? The Cup. The championship. The power. What does the mob want? They want whichever car they cheer for to get power, so by proxy they can feel powerful. That’s what fandom is, just like world politics. We only wave flags because we want our side to win, because our side, we believe, has the ideology that deserves to win. But whoever wins the power only matters in how they wield the power and to whom they give glory toward.
To follow this through a bit more: both drivers are pretty much interchangeable, just like the cars they drive. They have both been blessed to be in racing families and God-given talent and surely a convenient sets of fortunate happenings to get them into the elite and small field of NASCAR racing. They have, in a sense, hit the lottery of gifts in terms of auto racing. Now, if Kevin Harvick’s soul was swapped into Chase Elliott and vice versa, it’s likely the drama would be the same, because they would still be driven to win the Cup. But it would also make a good Freaky Friday style of movie, as after the swap, Kevin Harvick would realize that Chase Elliott and his mechanics are probably decent guys in the same pursuit of the Cup. Perhaps he might return to his own body full of love for his enemy and a new appreciation of the sport of racing. Better yet, a terrific ending would be when both resume racing for the greater glory of God, like the dude in Chariots of Fire, who ran for love of the game, not the trophy, as his angry opponent did).
The reason Jesus is so interesting to every generation is because he’s obviously different from every other power seeker in human history. Why is he so different? Because he’s not seeking power. He already has it. All of it. And so he’s giving it all away, all the time, and serving us all, who really don’t deserve it. He’s like the lowest guy in the Pit Crew who hands the lead mechanic the wrench and gets yelled at for doing it too slow, and then doesn’t object or complain despite being the inventor of the automobile and greatest mechanic in the universe, the Creator of all things.
Thus, reading the Bible in the light of power is illuminating, because we are living in a time where the West, that has been under the power of classical liberalism and humanism, is turning toward atheism and strange brands of Gnosticism, and quite literally every heresy since the Resurrection. For those who win power on earth, they will have their prize. They will gain the “Commanding Heights” of economies and governments - for awhile. Then when we tire of that driver, another stock car will come along, with a new ideology and flag, and will replace it. And whoever wins the Cup, inherits the fear of losing it. The shame and honor culture is ballooning now, and will continue to do so, and when power is lost, or perceived to be threatened, the scapegoats will be trotted out, as usual.
Power games are so predictable that it looks no different than the Daytona 500, except the Daytona 500 brings more joy to people, because the winner of a car race doesn’t promise heaven. As soon as the winners in society get what they want, and believe they have saved the world (if only everyone would fall into line with their plan), they begin to oppress the world in a new way. Some winners are better than others, and those are the ones that - at least nominally, like Thomas Jefferson - tip the hat to God for what they have been given here on earth. But the tip-o-the-hat to God can be used as a smokescreen for blatant power grabs, too. All ideas and movements that promise to bring heaven on earth are false. Because only God will do that, and he will do that in the last day, when Jesus returns. (Also, pro-tip: the “Rapture” as you may understand it was invented some 1800 years after Jesus. As I advise friends out of love, stop reading fiction by Dan Brown, and do the same for Tim LaHaye.)
When the Bible is read as it is not intended to be read, it becomes a dead letter. When it is read through the lens of NASCAR, you can easily see what the Assyrians, Babylonians, Herodians, and even what the Israelites are doing. But the lesson is this: no power is given here on earth except what has come from God above. This is what Jesus tells Pontius Pilate, who thinks his hard work and pluck has made him governor of Judea. This is incorrect, according to Jesus. This also explains the violence in the Old Testament, and how a tiny army could overrun Canaan, or how Abraham with three hundred men could overrun the Five Kings who capture Lot. Just as the nation of Israel gets its power from God, it is also taken away by God, through other people. Other nations appear to “take” the power, but God’s plan is somehow always working within this world, especially when we cannot understand it. In many ways, we are like a dog staring at a stock car race, having no idea why cars are going in a circle.
All power here in this world is given by God, and we should serve in humble gratitude if it comes to us, as we have free-will to reject or cooperate with God’s grace. He gives us all sufficient grace to use our intellect and will to realize that we need a savior, and no one in the end can say, “I didn’t have enough evidence to believe,” as Bertrand Russell famously imagined he would tell God after he died. Any political power or NASCAR champion must understand: the Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. And the answer in both cases, winning or losing, is to become humble before God and to keep his Commandments. When Israel conquers Canaan, people fail to understand that God is granting power to Israel, and when the nation later sins terribly, and repeatedly, God takes away what was given.
This is not Prosperity Gospel interpretation, this is Humility Gospel. In the book of Job, after he loses his family and wealth, his buddies say, “Perhaps you just weren’t holy enough, and that’s why all this suffering has come your way.” That’s the Prosperity Gospel in one line. “You just weren’t holy enough to be rich.” To which I would say: who is more holy than Jesus Christ, who is God incarnate? And what happened to him? He suffered.
Even if you serve God, you may suffer in this life, and still the answer, as Jesus showed us, is to pray and bless the name of the LORD. Even in his agony, Jesus cried out to God, quoting the 22nd Psalm, which many people are confused about. I was confused. “And about the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?” that is, ‘My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?’” As a child I thought, “How could Jesus seem to think God left him if he is God?” The problem was that I had no idea that he was quoting the first line of a Psalm, which is a beautiful prayer for times of suffering. He was praying from the Cross, and even in his final words, he offered his spirit to God, and when he appears most defeated, most powerless, he is about to show what real power is on the third day when the women come to the empty tomb. Jesus doesn’t need power over the Romans, because he has power over what the Romans fear most, which is death.
Seriously, I urge you: get a good study Bible and read using the four senses of scripture. If we only read it as “Bible as Literature” or as breadcrumbs for cultural or archaeological or historical events (and we now define “history” much different than the sacred authors did), then it’s no wonder that confusion around the truth is making such a comeback. At least the fantasy of Norse gods addresses a need for the supernatural in people. People need religion, one that transcends this world. And if they don’t follow a religion, they will find one or invent one, and what it leads to is ideology, and always in the end, the will to power.
This is exactly what Jesus came to destroy. Because that kind of “power based” thinking is from the accuser, the divider, the father of lies. If we see the world as a power struggle, then we cannot yet say, “I was blind, but now I see.” The Christian way of seeing the world is not the same as Nietzsche or Marx or or Hitler or Stalin or Foucault or Kendi. You must put on the mind of Christ to step out of the circular “head that eats the tail” model of the world.
If you forget this, and think power is the narrow gate to heaven, you won’t see the big picture. You will forget that God exists. To forget this is folly. To forget God is the same as rejecting God. Because you will lose the context, and perhaps much else. If you are looking for single verses to mock, you may become more focused on the body than the soul, and though the body is important, it is not the only thing to be concerned with. When you lose awe, wonder, and reverence for the real power that created all things, you may forget the most important thing, which is the Creator. The danger then is to think that this world and your body is all that there is. Once that happens, you will be distracted, which is what the devil prefers. Jesus gave us clear instructions. He said, “Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell.” If you think Jesus was just some nice guy, some dude who came to permit everything, you might want to re-read the Gospels carefully. We are not meant to be the king or the judge, we are asked to follow, in servant mode, as Jesus did. He is the one who can give us the rest and peace that we are really looking for, rather than the false power we imagine will bring us happiness. Don’t waste your life chasing the little kingdoms and title belts of this world, unless you are doing it for the greater glory of God, and even then, should you somehow be granted power, of any kind, remember gratitude to the real power. Because it didn’t come from you.
