'The Blue Parakeet' Faces Inconvenient Verses
Facing difficult passages may help us better understand the Bible as a whole.
Review by Philip Tallon | posted 2/27/2009 10:51AM
Named after a diminutive budgie, Scot McKnight's The Blue Parakeet (Zondervan) offers itself as a charming book to which no one will take exception. The cover even features the eponymous bird perched cutely on a pair of binoculars.
This playful title is shrewd, because the book's subtitle, Rethinking How You Read the Bible, ushers readers into the volatile area of biblical hermeneutics. Compared with writing a book about birds, writing about a new way to read the Bible is about as tame as dancing on the hood of a moving car with no one at the wheel.
McKnight doubles down on potential peril by directing his efforts at some of the most uncomfortable issues in Scripture. Many oft-neglected verses are relatively mild, such as the ones about foot washing and borrowing money with interest. These commandments elicit a "whatever" shrug from many Christians. But there are other verses, such as the ones about homosexuality and women in ministry that, if ignored, may elicit anger from the same Christians who never wash each other's feet and unthinkingly pay 6 percent on their mortgages.
The book's controlling metaphor highlights the problem. Accustomed to watching sparrows eat peaceably in his own backyard, McKnight one day observed a blue parakeet "terrorizing" his usual backyard visitors. The parakeet was no doubt an escaped pet that now flaunted his liberty by frightening innocent sparrows with shrill cries and avian athletics. Though colorful, the bird disrupted the author's predictable bird-watching routine. Substitute the phrase "awkward Scriptures" for the blue parakeets in the following passage, and you have the book's premise:
Sometimes we hope blue parakeets will go away. … Or perhaps we shoo them away. Or perhaps we try to catch them and return them to their cage. I tried to see if I could catch the bird, but he (or she) didn't even let me close. It had been caged and it wanted its freedom.
Whether we like to admit it or not, we all have Bible verses we would like to shoo away. One of McKnight's goals is to force us to recognize this tendency. But his larger goal is more gracious: In bringing up these annoying budgies, McKnight is trying to help us read the Bible in a way that does not treat difficult verses like unwelcome pests.
To accomplish this, McKnight contends, we must read the Bible first as God's story of redemption, instead of reading it merely as a set of laws or blessings, or as a puzzle or big inkblot, open to interpretation. The plot of this big story, as McKnight sees it, is about "oneness"—oneness that begins in Genesis 1 and 2, quickly breaks into "otherness" in Genesis 3, and is not fully restored until the last two chapters of Revelation.
Reading the Bible as story is not a new suggestion, but McKnight uses the concept to frame his insights about the blue parakeets. He argues that the bulk of the Bible can be envisioned as a series of "wiki-stories" (mirroring the spirit of the Internet's DIY encyclopedia). These wiki-stories are versions of the big story that have been "edited and maintained" by the Bible's authors for their own days and ways.
McKnight also rehabilitates the familiar concept of discernment. He notes that most Christians do not strictly adhere to certain biblical commands (i.e., Sabbath observance, foot washing) because we must adapt and adopt Scripture in ways that fit our time and place. McKnight reminds readers that biblical authors themselves adapted the big story for their audiences. The blue parakeets in Scripture, then, are not contradictory assertions but contextually determined discernments by the Bible's teachers.