Why you need to know the Bible (even if you’re an atheist)

In the spirit of Easter…

(cross-posted from Forbes.com)

This week, millions of Americans will head to their houses of worship to celebrate Easter and Passover, the high Judeo-Christian holidays. When they arrive, they’ll hear familiar sermons and stories drawn from both the Old and New Testaments, Exodus and the Gospels. And when they leave, they’ll relegate those lessons to a small, dusty corner of their brain, where they’ll sit all but forgotten until this time next year. That’s the sad truth implied by recent studies of America’s religious literacy, anyway.

For all the talk of America as a nation founded upon Judeo-Christian values, one humbling fact remains: As a culture, we know startlingly little about the Bible. As Stephen Prothero points out in his book Religious Literacy, studies have shown that only half of U.S. adults know one of the four Gospels by name. More than half are unable to identify Genesis as the first book of the Bible, and 60% can’t name five of the Ten Commandments. Sadly, our collective slide into biblical illiteracy doesn’t seem to be reversing itself among the younger set–according to Prothero, 50% of high school seniors think Sodom and Gomorrah were a married couple.

Until my sophomore year in college, when I left Brown University and spent a semester experiencing far-right Christianity as an undercover student at Liberty, Jerry Falwell’s “Bible Boot Camp” for young evangelicals, I, too, was guilty of massive Bible ignorance. I grew up in a liberal college town with a reputation as a godless enclave, and I was educated in schools where I was never taught even the most basic facts about the Bible, its historical importance or the various faith communities who consider it holy writ. I had acted in a school musical about the Garden of Eden, so I knew the basic plotline of Genesis (Adam names the animals, Eve bites an apple, and we all break into jazz squares, or something like that). But as far as actual Bible knowledge? I didn’t know Job from Jehoshaphat.

When I began taking classes at Liberty, of course, I had a lot of catching up to do. My classmates, for the most part, were lifelong Sunday school students, and exam questions that were mind-bendingly hard for me–like, “According to Galatians 5:22-23, what are the fruits of the spirit?”–were second nature for them. Over the course of the semester, I stuffed mountains of knowledge into my head, both about the Bible itself and about the interpretations and factions that have accompanied it through the years. I found out what Jesus said in the Parable of the Sower, and what the Council of Trent decided about the nature of God’s grace. I learned that Goliath was uncircumcised, that Stephen was the first Christian martyr and that it’s never a good idea to sell out a friend, even if 30 shekels are on the line.

By getting a solid foundation in the Bible in my Liberty classes, I gained access to an incredible amount of cultural capital. Suddenly, hidden metaphors in classic works of literature leapt out at me from the page, and I caught the subtle scriptural references embedded in political stump speeches. Thanks to Liberty’s required course in creationist biology, I came to know Genesis like the back of my hand, and was finally able to understand the ideological controversy driving one of our nation’s most heated debates.

Religious illiteracy has caused problems for well-meaning secularists for years, especially where the media is involved. Consider the International Herald Tribune article on the funeral of Pope John Paul II that described the symbolic “crow’s ear” tucked under the pontiff’s arm (the staff-like implement is actually a “crozier”), or the BBC producer who wrote in an on-screen caption that a group of “Karma Light” nuns were mourning the pope’s death (the more traditional spelling is “Carmelite”).

In fact, the most prominent Bible snafu in recent memory can be found in a 2006 magazine article about my former school. While reporting on Liberty University’s top-ranked debate team, a reporter from Newsweek quoted the Rev. Jerry Falwell, Liberty’s late founder, as having said, “We are training debaters who can perform assault ministry.” What Rev. Falwell had actually said–”a salt ministry,” a reference to a passage in the Gospel of Matthew in which Jesus says “ye are the salt of the earth”–was both much more orthodox and much less controversial than a call for widespread Christian thuggery.

Outside the classroom and the newsroom, biblical literacy is also important in our personal lives. For better or worse, America is a nation with a deeply entrenched religious divide, and knowing the language of the Bible can help secular liberals reach across faith boundaries and build common ground with even the most conservative Christians. President Obama used his familiarity with biblical rhetoric to great effect during last year’s election season and continues to do so when addressing religious groups today. Being aware of the theological architecture of Christian faith helps us understand the lives of deeply religious family members, co-workers and neighbors, not to mention that guy who holds up “John 3:16″ signs at NFL games.

The Bible is, quite simply, the most influential book in history. It’s the all-time best seller, the book whose pages have inspired wars and toppled regimes, whose words have given hope and comfort to billions of believers. And knowing almost nothing about it–as I did before my semester “abroad” at a Christian college–greatly hinders a person’s ability to participate knowledgeably in our country’s most important cultural discussions. Atheist or believer, Jewish or Christian, I hope–and pray–that this holiday season will inspire us all to learn a little more about the book in whose shadow we all live.

This entry was posted on Friday, April 10th, 2009 at 1:13 am .