Is the Bible Myth? Depends who asks.

 

1. If it is a fellow teacher, or someone with an advanced degree in the Humanities, I say, “With a capital ‘M,’ yes. Lowercase ‘m’, it is not.”
2. If it is a parent of one of my students, I say, “No, of course not.”
3. If it is a student questioning his or her faith, I say, “What do you define as ‘myth’?” Then I hope they give an answer I can easily address.
4. If it is a student assured of his or her faith, I say, “We know the Bible to be inerrant.” Then I defer to their Bible teacher.
5. If it is a class full of students, I collapse on the ground, curl up in a ball, and sing “Jesus Loves Me, This I Know.” After I did that, I would probably do number 4, not because I don’t know the answer.  I just don’t know how the students would take my answer.

Here’s what I actually think: the Bible is Myth.  It is not a myth.

Therefore, this post is probably self-defeating since I am, in essence, confessing what I’ve censored myself from saying. It is something I have not said aloud, even when I had the opportunity to teach this concept since our first unit in World Literature was Greek Mythology.

 

Here’s what I could have said to my students:

Myth, as a genre, is simply the story of the why and the how of creation.  It explains nature, humanity’s place in the world, and, most importantly, God’s hand in it all.   As Jill Carattini writes, “The genre of myth has concerned itself with the great and impenetrable questions of life, questions that every worldview must answer. As G.K. Chesterton comments in Everlasting Man, ‘Myth has at least an imaginative outline of truth.’”[1]

Thus, Myth is simply a story that you should expect from any worldview, including Christianity.  It is different from myth in the sense that I ate two large pizzas in one setting while fighting off a pack of wolves in a lightning storm in the California wilderness (it was only one pizza, I was shielding off my ravenous dog Milo, and it was in my living room).

 

A student might say: So Mr. B,  doesn’t myth mean it’s untrue?

And I’d say, “Oh, Herbert, that is a common connotation. However, as a definition, it does not necessarily mean it is untrue. Take the word ‘patronize.’ It simply means to buy something from a store.  But it’s more widely used meaning is to act condescendingly toward someone else. It can have two definitions.”

Another student may ask, Mr. B, don’t other cultures have myths?  Doesn’t that mean that Christians are just making up stories to feel better about themselves?

“Oh, Muriel, that’s such a wonderful question.  Most cultures do have myths.  Doesn’t that seem to point to the truth that there is a Creator God?  After all, God has set eternity in our hearts[2]”

Well, then, what about the similarities? After all, there are like a billion different flood stories. Doesn’t that mean they’ve been made up?

“Not necessarily, Eustace. It seems to point that something did happen: that there was a true flood, but the story has been distorted.”

 

I could have concluded by having the students compare the myths they researched from other cultures (like the Egyptians, Celtics, Chinese,  and Norse). I could have had them analyze the believability.  I could have had them note the biggest difference between myths and Scripture.

I could have given a rousing lecture. I could have said though other stories may account for the universe; though other stories may explain our brokenness; though other stories may involve human-like gods who interact with their creation; only one story reveals a God who loves his creation enough to give Himself to save it. And only one story has proven itself credible from the beginning through the rest of its story. With the Bible, as C.S. Lewis put it, “Myth became Fact.”

And then a chorus of angels would have sang “Amen! Hallelujah!” and a beam of sunlight would have cut through he windows to rest solely on my spot at the lectern.

 

This hypothetical, of course, assumes the students would raise these questions on their own, and it assumes I could answer their questions with the strength and tact that would point them to the answer their parents, the school, and I all want them to internalize. It assumes a perfectly calm environment and perfectly malleable students.  It assumes that we live in a culture that fosters critical thinking and healthy discourse.  It assumes open-mindedness on the part of the students and their parents.  It assumes no one would be hyper-reactive, and it assumes no one would assume the worst about me and my intentions. It also assumes a heavenly response that may or may not be realistic.

Still, this conversation could have pushed students to dig deeper, think harder, and search better. It could have equipped them to scrutinize Internet sources that claim Christianity is just a spin-off of other myths. It could have prepared students to acknowledge the thirst for Jesus in other cultures, and in doing so, it could have built fortified faiths and missionary hearts.

Saying the Bible is Myth is provocative. It’s dirty.  It sparks questions and pokes at the bubbles in which many of our youth are encapsulated.

This means I could have had angry parents who may not have trusted my goals and my abilities. I could have faced pressure from the administration. I could have created doubt in my students who didn’t have it before.  I could have thwarted the progress of non-believing students. I could have left a huge mess for our wonderful Bible teachers to mop up.

 

I could have told you that I courageously tossed these concerns aside and taught the lesson regardless. But that’d be a myth.

For more on this listen to our episode on the Bible as Literature

[1]Carattini, Jill. “Myth and Fact”. RZIM.org

[2]Ecclesiastes 3:11