The Bible is the most obvious – and the most opaque – book I have ever read. Often, it is blindingly obvious. When you read the Gospel of Luke, the force of Jesus’ personality simply shines forth. His faith, his commitment and compassion, his love and passion for justice literally spring from the page.

It is almost self-evident that he is worth following: that his values should become our values; that whatever the Christian religion is, it should be striving to measure up to him; that whatever my own life really means, it is somehow measured by his example.

And the Bible’s great stories about the people of Israel are obvious and accessible to the reader: the escape from slavery, the fall into exile, the return to a homeland, the quest for peace and justice. On many levels it is an entirely self-evident book, chock full of the most basic elements of human striving – love, hope, God, faith, family, suffering and joy.

At other times, this book seems massively obscure. It is an ancient, cryptic book, filled with texts from bygone contexts written in a foreign language. Sometimes it’s difficult to tell what it is really talking about. Given this blend of the obvious and obscure, is it any surprise that Christians are all over the map in how they interpret the Bible?

Its more obvious qualities draw us together, and then it obscurities tear us asunder. For example, all Christians, worldwide are magnetized by its obvious qualities – we stand drawn together in awe of the God known through Jesus Christ. But then we become polar opposites – about arcane theological matters, or ethical issues in regard to the role of women and other “hot-button” issues of our day.

There are words that hurt and words that heal. To the Jewish mind, in the world into which Jesus was born, words were considered powerful. A word was more than just a word. It was alive with meaning. The Hebrews spoke sparingly. The Hebrew language has fewer than 10,000 words, whereas Greek has 200,000, and the English language has more than 700,000 words. The Old Testament is filled with the general idea of the power of words. Read the Creation story of Genesis. Each stage of creation begins with: “And God said . . .” God spoke the world into being by his word.” In Genesis 27, there is a story of Isaac being deceived into giving his blessing to Jacob when he had intended to give it to Esau, his oldest son. But once the word of blessing had been spoken, it could not be retracted. The power of words was awesome to the Jew. These two examples are merely representative of the hundreds of examples of the same idea in the Old Testament.

Our words both reflect and create our attitudes. The world of medical science is discovering the power of words and attitudes to heal or hurt. I would venture to say that most doctors see more than one person each day who has talked themselves into being sick, and who will not get well until they change their attitude and their words. The will to live is a powerful force that keeps people alive beyond normal expectations. The will not to live is equally powerful.

There are people whose words wound, not because they intend them to wound, but because they are careless with words and thoughts about others. They are so self-centered that they never notice what their words do to others. The variation of this category of person is almost endless, but more often than not these persons, for some reason, feel “called upon” to offer unsolicited advice.

It is really not necessary for us to tell people how wrong they are and how they could improve, unless they ask your opinion about themselves. Most of our judgements of people are given out of our own need, than out of concern for others. More than we might think, our description of other people says as much or more about us than about others.

The Rev. Dr. David V. Calhoun is spiritual leader of the West Scarborough United Methodist Church.

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