The Opening Idea in Thomas Merton's Opening the Bible

"What kind of book is this?" Such a question cannot be answered without taking into account the very peculiar claims that have been made for the Bible by Christian, Jewish and even Muslim believers: claims which, to many modern men, are outrageous. Claims that this book is unlike any other, and that man's very destiny depends on it.

We cannot understand anything about the Bible unless we face the fact that these claims are made seriously, and that the outrage taken at them is also fully serious. Neither can be discounted. It is of the very nature of the Bible to affront, perplex and astonish the human mind. Hence the reader who opens the Bible must be prepared for disorientation, confusion, incomprehension, perhaps outrage.

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Thus begins a little volume by Thomas Merton titled Opening the Bible.

What I like about Merton's opening setup is that for many Christians the Bible has ceased to be a challenge or a problem. We (and I include myself here) can easily fall into the trap of reading the Bible in a non-engaged way, superficially grazing its contents on auto-pilot.  

This weekend I was looking again at one of my journals from our year in Mexico. (My wife and I worked at an orphanage south of Monterrey beginning in late 1980.) I noticed that my approach to daily Bible study at that time included (1) identifying a passage, (2) recording the message it contained, (3) identifying the larger context, (4) questions it raises, and (5) application.

When I look at the questions I was asking myself, I saw honesty and real searching. For example, in an Old Testament passage from I Kings  we read that God raised up an adversary against Solomon from the royal line of Edom because Solomon's heart had turned away from God. 

Among the many questions raised then (4 November 1981) I find these of special interest: "Was Solomon being punished, or disciplined? If Solomon was so wise (he was called the wisest man on earth) then how did he fail so badly?

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For those unfamiliar with Merton (1915-1968), his book Seven Storey Mountain was a worldwide bestseller. I remember being introduced to the book by a social studies teacher who lived across the street from us in Bridgewater back in the 60s. Like Saint Augustine, Merton was a roustabout in his youth. When God got hold of him he joined the Abbey of Gethsemani, a Trappist monastery in Kentucky. 

In the 1990s, while doing research for my story The Unfinished Stories of Richard Allen Garston, I had a desire to visit Gethsemani in order to accurately portray the setting. The central character in my story had escaped to this place for murky reasons that can be deduced from the story's ambiguous end. While there I saw where Thomas Merton's remains are buried. The memory is still vivid. (What my children probably remember most is the stinky cheese I bought there, something akin to Lindbergher, which I ate in the car, much to their displeasure.)

Thomas Merton spent 27 years here in this remote community of ascetics. Daily Bible reading and reflection left him a changed man. He writes, "The Bible is without question one of the most unsatisfying books ever written--at least until the reader has come to terms with it in a very special way."

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Trivia: Thomas Merton died 10 December 1968, 54 years ago this weekend.

Here is a link again to my story The Unfinished Stories of Richard Allen Garston. Feedback welcome. Maybe one day I'll publish an anthology of my own unfinished stories.