Does Biblical Contextualization Aways Result In More Reverence?

For the first time in my life, I became tearful during communion.

Though I’m now part of a non-denominational church, I had a Catholic spiritual upbringing. In the Catholic tradition, communion is called the Eucharist and practiced with the belief that the bread and wine become the very body and blood of Jesus Christ before we consume them. This point of “transubstantiation” during mass is considered the climax of the service. And because this special moment of communing with Christ is an experience of what it would be like in heaven (where there is no sin that separates us from being in the physical presence of God), we must first, here on earth, examine our hearts and remove the sin within our hearts through confession, before consuming the Eucharist. 

While the liturgical tradition I belong to now uses bread and grape juice as just figurative representations of Jesus’s body and blood, I’ve recently grown more fond of how the Catholic mass as a whole centers communion (which happens during every mass, not just once a month). Each liturgical movement of mass reflects the scriptural imagery we’re given of heaven as we move closer and closer to the physical presence of God.

As we sing, we “enter the gates of heaven with thanksgiving, and its courts with praise.” The reading and reflection of scripture further cultivate our hearts minds to meet with God. With the exception of the sick and elderly, one is expected to fast at least 1 hour before receiving communion to further prepare one’s heart, mind, body, and soul for the Lord. 

Essentially, I’ve found that what tend to be the most common criticisms of mass (the sitting, the standing, the kneeling, the reciting, and the other seemingly impersonal, robotic movements), are actually quite meaningful. Beautiful, even. Once I understood the meaning behind them, I gave the experience more reverence. 

And so it is with each movement of whatever liturgy I belong to now. My heart becomes lighter and more tender as I cast off the restraints of what prevent my heart from experiencing the fullness of God’s love and mercy and holiness.

Further, I’ve found the same can happen when we approach biblical contextualization (that is, making sense of scripture by connecting it to the sociocultural environments in which it was originally written as well as the various environments it speaks to today) in a healthy way.

The goal of gaining this complete understanding of scripture…

-knowing why something in the Bible was said

-knowing whom it was said to

-knowing under what context it was said/happened 

-knowing what this means about God and his heart and vision for humanity 

-knowing how we should apply this truth moving forward

…Is for this knowledge to be transformative. Transforming our hearts to me more like God’s heart. But there is a potential to fall short of that goal when we take things in scripture less seriously by making it mostly figurative and rarely literal, or using contextualization to absolve ourselves of doing things that God has asked us to do just because those things are challenging.

Mostly figurative?

Something to be careful of when learning scriptural context is the potential to use this newfound knowledge to discount the necessity of reverence originally attached to it. 

For example, when we worship, though we’re not physically in heaven, we are connecting with heaven and the radiant glory of God through the words we sing. So if that’s not the posture of our hearts, minds, and bodies as worship is happening on Sunday,  here’s a helpful prayer for that moment: God, help me see heaven through this worship. Help me see the world through the eyes of heaven in this service.

Another example: we no longer have the holy of holies housing the physical glory and presence of God like in the original Jewish temples in scripture. The way in which God communes with people is different now. His Spirit lives within us, but he’s no less holy. God is no less glorious today than he was thousands of years ago. 

Therefore, the weight and reverence we give towards the things of God should not change just because we can wear dirt-washed jeans to church and won’t be struck dead as we walk into the sanctuary. In an even more practical sense, how I live the liturgy in my day-to-day life is just as important as how I worship through it on a Sunday. God still speaks everyday, he’s still present in the everyday, he still moves everyday. And every day, I should follow his movements in reverence and obedience.

And then how do we discount spiritual disciplines?

Sometimes getting context has us asking questions like “is tithing really 10%” and “do I really have to go to church?” These are the two most common spiritual disciplines I see questioned in errant (and viral) teachings that claim to provide contextual understanding of scripture.

Here’s the thing: the wrong teachers will challenge the disciplines that call us to significant sacrifices and a counter-cultural way of life that, honestly, aren’t always possible without the strengthening of the Holy Spirit. The goal of these teachers isn’t always a deeper understanding of God and his word. Sometimes their aim is to justify why you (and they) don’t need to do something that you don’t want to do.

What’s the solution then?

I’ve found that in my slower journeys through scripture, I’ve gained a contextual understanding that deepens my faith and my resolve to trust God and his truth, especially when things are ridiculously difficult and confounding. Supplementing these journeys with biblically sound commentaries (Verse by Verse Ministries; Bible in a Year Podcast; sermon series and studies from trusted and biblically-solid preachers and teachers) definitely has helped.

Through those slow walks through scripture (not just consuming a chapter a day, but instead going over just a few verses a day), through prayer, through fasting, through sacrifice, God has become more beautiful, more glorious, more holy, more wonderful and more mysterious to me than I’ve ever acknowledged previously.

I believe that’s a right response to understanding the context of scripture. Not just information of God’s vision for creation, but also a heart transformation in how I think and subsequently how I act. It calls me into a deeper and more meaningful level of obedience. 

So now, I take worship, and scripture reading, and tithing, and serving, and fasting, and other practices more seriously. I’m still not perfect at them. But I don’t discount their significance because of someone merely asking, “did God really say?…”