“‘Come, let us
go up to the mountain of the LORD… that he may teach us his ways and that we
may walk in his paths.’ For out of Zion shall go forth the law, and the word of
the LORD from Jerusalem.” Isa 2:3
Preparing
an exposition, lesson or sermon on the Scriptures is like an artist looking out
over a great mountainous landscape and preparing to paint. His/her painting will
be a selective and limited interpretation of what can be seen. The whole
experience cannot be captured on canvas. All that is seen cannot be captured,
let alone what is heard and felt, the continuous movement or moment by moment
dynamic, or how this all ignites imagination, connecting with past experience and
glorious dream.
Only
so much can go on the canvas and to put something down is to leave something
out, but to put nothing down is to miss it all. So the artist puts down, paints,
interprets, and does so with joy and yet a bit of sadness knowing more is
released than can be detained. That is to say, as necessary as the
interpretation is, this great landscape will always be greater than the
interpretation.
So
it is to survey the Scriptures. The teacher knows that to present a good lesson
one cannot present too much. Too much could ruin a perfect lesson or outline.
But sometimes, overcome by what is seen, the teacher/artist looses care for
preserving the perfect outline. At times one must sit in awed stillness of the
landscape, the exceeding work of the Great Artist, as golden moments pass
unrecorded, lost and poured out as an offering. In such moments it is not about
the perfect outline. In such moments the best we can do is sit and take in the
view – not control it, outline it, or break it in to parts – just take it in as
we submit before eminence and beauty, allowing transcendence to delay
interpretation.
You
might find several artistic renditions of the same mountain painted from the
very same viewpoint, but the paintings will differ. The various artists would
have viewed the same mountain at different times of day or year with varying
degrees of shadow, cloud cover and sunlight. The same mountain, in fact, looks
different each changing moment of the day. Perhaps the mountain has not
changed, but how it can be seen is in constant flux and relevant to current
context. Still, if two artists sat side by side at the same time, painting the
same view, the final portraits would contain at least subtle differences
because the one scene is filtered through two different sets of eyes. Each
artist will highlight different features, fixate on various qualities and the
interpretation of what the artists see is nuanced with distinct expression.
The
mountain may not change, but how the mountain is seen may change from moment to
moment. The same is true for Scripture. Not to advocate independent or private interpretation,
but the scene, the mountain, is so very rich. It is not a one dimensional scene,
but a dialectical, living moment. One picture is not enough. One final masterful
painting cannot completely interpret the mountain or capture it finally on
canvas. It will continue to speak and expose itself fresh each new day. The greatest
of artists may have painted this, but the new artist must also climb the
mountain again, set up easel, canvas and paints and paint fresh this new ancient
scene.
As
necessary as interpretation is, we must remember it is only that – interpretation.
Interpreters and interpretations come and go but the mountain remains. Interpretation
can be unjustly skewed. An artist might take unnecessary liberties and abuse
free expression until the interpretation sits over against the mountain itself.
We must not forget, ultimately the mountain interprets us. Failing to remain
humble before the mountain, our interpretation can become exploitation and
misrepresentation.
Come
to peace with the fact that the mountain cannot be completely possessed. Resist
the temptation to oversimplify a scene. Admit to its transcendence. Let what
cannot be detained remain free. Hold what you can and let the rest just be.
Come to the mountain again and again. Gather up your paints and sit before
majesty. Let your eyes take in what your mind cannot completely comprehend and
resist the urge to reconcile the two. Understanding comes, but it comes best to
those remaining humble before what it greater. As Moses was on the mountain and
requested to see God, his desire was honored only in part and part was enough.
As
finite sits before the infinite, a tension remains between what is revealed and
what is concealed, what is understood and what remains mysterious, what can be
grasped and taken home, and what remains independent of us. At times, the best
we can do is to take home a souvenir. We cannot posses, but we are possessed by
the mountain. Again and again we must come, sit before it and paint.