Conversations with the Bible

By Mary Layton

I have been attending the Conversations with the Bible class for over a year now. The weekly discussions are always stimulating and thought provoking. The issues are timeless, the imagery staggeringly beautiful or horrifyingly ugly. The parables turn my brain inside out. The Bible seems labyrinthine, with interconnected passageways, curious intersections, frightening cul-de-sacs, majestic overlooks, and hidden rooms. We spend an hour on only two or three verses, reading four or five different versions of the Bible and hearing from Rev. Bruce translations of key words from Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek. Some chapters seem like songs, with chorus and verses. Others seem like a crazy quilt of enigmatic stories. Hyberbole forces us to stretch our idea of what is possible, what is just, and what is real. We encounter phrases and sayings that have been absorbed into popular culture or literature. We make deeply human connections with those who lived thousands of years ago and have so much to say to us today.

Each of us who attends brings something personal to the discussion and has a particular slant on what is meaningful. This is a far cry from indoctrination. Because of the enigmatic nature of the text, one might chew over a particular verse or parable for days after the class is over, making many connections between everyday life and the passages read. We share opinions. It is understood that the process is ongoing and that a single story may engender many interpretations.

I am engaged in an ongoing conversation with myself over what on earth the women of the Bible represent. The story that sticks with me the most is not one of the mainstream stories that everyone should know. It involves two women: Deborah, a tribal leader and judge, who presides under a palm tree (that image alone I find quite compelling) and Jay El, a villager. Deborah advises a general that an upcoming battle will result in victory, but that it will not be a result of his leadership. When the battle takes place, the losing general takes refuge in a village of sympathizers. Jay El lures the general into her tent with a goatskin of milk, persuades him to take a nap, and then brutally dispatches him with a tent stake.

What I find compelling about this story is the contrast between the two women.

One has stature, standing, influence, and an intuitive understanding of how events will play out in the long run. She is able to hold forth under her palm tree. She is respected and protected. The other woman is a creature of terror, immediacy, and expediency. She recognizes that the losing general is a threat to her tribe and she takes him out with a surgical strike, using the most underhanded means imaginable. Perhaps these women represent not gender roles but existing conditions of social stability or unrest. They are intrinsic in the situation. The reflections and actions of the men are extrinsic. The men act on what they think to be a wise course of action based on what they hope to accomplish. Their goals are arbitrary and are subject to “conditions on the ground.” In my cynical view, I think women in general, not just in this story, represent the earth, intrinsic conditions, unknowable complexity, chance, luck, and darkness. For this reason it is important for us to be controlled and repressed by certain societies, for we are just too scary to be left to our own devices. This is one story among many that we have read and discussed. Each person brings their experience to bear on the puzzling enigmas and juxtapositions of images and thoughts. I would highly recommend Conversations With the Bible. It is by far the most adventurous and compelling class I have attended at UUCUV.