The Bible is like a compost pile.<\/p>\n I like this image and I wish I had thought of it, but it\u00a0comes from Walter Brueggemann\u2019s\u00a0Texts Under Negotiation<\/a>.\u00a0<\/em>I came across this many\u00a0years ago, and\u2014despite the documented fact that I am the worst gardener ever\u2014<\/em>it\u2019s helped me see the Bible in a more realistic and spiritually constructive way.<\/p>\n The Bible is the\u00a0compost pile<\/span>\u00a0that provides material for new life. I do not use this figure as an irreverent metaphor to suggest that the Bible is \u201cgarbage.\u201d Rather, I use it to suggest that the Bible itself is not the actual place of new growth. Our present life, when we undertake new growth, is often inadequate, arid, or even barren. It needs to be enriched, and for that enrichment, we go back to the deposits of old growth that have been discarded, but that continue to ferment and may contain resources for a way to new life.<\/em>\u00a0(Texts Under Negotiation<\/a>,<\/em>\u00a0pp. 61-62)<\/em><\/p>\n Like Brueggemann, I don\u2019t take the compost pile as a\u00a0disrespectful\u00a0metaphor, but a metaphor that explains what the Bible is suited to do<\/strong><\/em>\u2014and how people typically, instinctively, approach it anyway.<\/p>\n By contrast, an unhelpful metaphor is a cookbook.<\/p>\n Read the Bible carefully, being sure to follow the directions, and out will pop a good, orthodox Christian with his or her act together. If something goes\u00a0wrong\u2014if you have wrong doctrine or do bad things\u2014you\u2019re not following the directions carefully enough. Go back and try it again.<\/p>\n I\u2019ve found the Bible doesn\u2019t work very well as a cookbook. Sooner or later you wind up sifting through the Bible to pick the ingredients that you like and ignore other ingredients that don\u2019t taste very well with what you are trying to cook up. Plus the Bible is long, complicated, and most of it looks like you\u2019re reading a novel with multiple plots and subplots, not a cookbook.<\/p>\n The compost\u00a0pile works better for me. It syncs with my study of Scripture, with my experience over the years as someone trying to figure out this following Jesus<\/a> business, and with what I have learned from the wisdom of others, living and\u00a0dead.<\/p>\n The compost pile analogy reminds me that focusing our gaze on the Bible is like looking expectantly at the compost pile rather than the fragrant rose or luscious watermelon that is waiting to grow up out of the ground. But nothing grows when our days are spent guarding the compost pile, defending it, covering it up with a tarp of manicured sod to make it look more civil.<\/p>\n Maybe this is a paradox:<\/p>\n \u201cApplying the Bible\u201d doesn\u2019t quite get at it. That comes across to me as a bit quiet and clean. Gardening is full of grunting, sweat,\u00a0dirt\u2014and\u00a0sometimes\u00a0holding your nose. Read the Bible with a pitchfork, garden rake, and shovel in your hands\u2014not with rubber gloves and tongs delicately turning over crackling pages of an ancient book.<\/p>\n ***The original version of this post appeared in December 2012. A theme in\u00a0The Bible Tells Me So<\/strong> <\/a><\/em>(HarperOne 2014) is the contrast between the Bible as a cookbook (or owner\u2019s manual, operating instructions, field guide for Christian life) and the Bible as a diverse model for diverse spiritual experiences.***<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/peteenns.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/12\/compost-pile.jpeg\" "\\"compost")
<\/a><\/p>\nThe Bible is not the end, but a means to an end. Yet, without the nutrients the Bible contains, the soil remains arid.<\/h2>\n