The Mask
The beautiful thing about figurative language is how it can capture a person’s imagination, and how it can serve as an invitation to a different way of understanding something particularly abstract through the use of symbolism. Figurative language is also the only way to describe the indescribable. For Christians, this means that the only possible way to talk about God is to do so through the use of figurative language. “God is light” or “The Lord is my fortress” or “The Lord God is a sun and shield.” And while I believe that figurative language of this sort can describe in beautiful and entrancing ways some of the characteristics of God, it always falls short. For each aspect of creation is only ever a distant echo of a small portion of who the creator is. So when attempting to describe the relationship between humanity, the Bible, and the indescribable, I find the best way is through the use of figurative language.
One of my favorite attempts to describe this three part relationship is called “Cabin in the Woods” written originally as a blog post by Meghan Larissa Good, who is a writer, speaker, and pastor at Trinity Mennonite Church in Glendale Arizona, and is now the opening chapter of her book “The Bible Unwrapped Making Sense of Scripture Today.”[1] The very short version of it is that the Bible is the window of our cabin, inviting us to gaze through it(not at it) to see some of the wonders of the vast, beautiful, endless forest outside(God). Reading “Cabin in the Woods” helped inspire me to think about how I would describe my understanding of that three part relationship and what imagery and symbolism I might use. As you have probably gathered from the video above, I chose a diver’s mask.
The function of a mask is to help divers see underwater, and in a similar way I believe the function of the Bible is to help humanity see God, but with both we can only ever see a small piece. A person can dive on a shipwreck, a reef, or a ledge and be surrounded by wonderful, beautiful, and amazing things. In fact, that same person can dive that same spot every day for the rest of their lives, and I am sure they would see something new every time. But they would miss out on the rest of what the ocean has to offer. In the same way, a diver can dive in a new place every day of their life. But they will miss the small details present in each place and still only see a fraction of what the ocean contains.
Through the Bible we can never see all of God—God is too big to be contained or condensed to fit into a book. But we can also focus too much on one aspect of God we see through the Bible to the exclusion of the rest of who God is. We pick and we choose and we build our own “God” that may not really resemble God at all.
There is nothing particularly special about putting a mask on. One could do that anywhere, and probably would look quite funny and out of place in most situations. That is because a mask really doesn’t do much good outside of the water, but to put on the mask and dive into the water involves risk. It involves approaching the unknown and being changed by what is seen. To dive into the water is to hand ourselves over to it—to throw ourselves at the mercy of all it is and all it contains. Likewise, there isn’t really anything special about reading the Bible. We don’t hear a heavenly choir every time we open it and no bright light shines down on us as we read. That is because transformation doesn’t come from the Bible. Transformation comes from God. Using a mask for its purpose means getting in the water. Using the Bible for its purpose means moving towards God.
While we move towards God it is important to remember that the Bible isn’t perfect. Nothing created by humanity ever is. We can look at the text and pick out its imperfections. We can argue about what should be looked at in its historical context and what may apply to us today. We can debate who wrote what and why that is important. We can try to figure out what actually happened and what is theological fiction. A mask will grow foggy and difficult to see through over time, and we can spend all of our time focusing on the fog and lamenting over how difficult it is to see anything—or we can let some water in. We can let God in to wash away the fog and help us to see clearly again. That doesn’t mean we will understand everything, we can see something perfectly well and still not understand it. With God we can see clearly. We can try our very best to understand. We can ask questions and struggle with what’s in front of us. We can approach and embrace mystery.
For me the Bible is like the mask a diver wears to see the amazing things the ocean contains. What is the Bible for you?
[1] Good, Meghan Larissa. The Bible Unwrapped Making Sense of Scripture Today. Harrisonburg, VA: Herald Press, 2008.