Reading the Bible More Deeply,
More Thoroughly, More Delightfully
A Feature Review of
Liz Charlotte Grant
Buy Now: [ BookShop ] [ Amazon ] [ Kindle ] [ Audible ]
Reviewed by Lynn Domina
Knock at the Sky: Seeking God in Genesis After Losing Faith in the Bible by Liz Charlotte Grant is one of the most enjoyable books I’ve read in a long time. The writing is engaging and accessible, and the content is as wide-ranging and imaginative as that in any book about the Bible I’m familiar with, especially when we consider that Grant limits herself to the book of Genesis, part of the book of Genesis actually, since she concludes with the stories of Jacob. Knock at the Sky is written primarily for evangelicals (or exvangelicals) who are struggling with their relationships with the Bible once they’ve rejected a literalist reading. As a mainline Protestant with a Roman Catholic childhood, I am not part of this target audience (though when she overhears some of my music, my wife sometimes says I’m a closet evangelical), but whether or not Grant intended it, people like me will find themselves welcomed into this book, too.
In each of the book’s eleven chapters, Grant focuses on one section of Genesis, providing a close reading and response, and then connecting it to art or anthropology, biology or medicine—to cave paintings and fragmented skulls and whale songs and Down syndrome. She doesn’t explore these other topics simply to illustrate scripture, however, but to extend its possible meaning. As she says in her introductory note, “I am seeking a new method to read the old text, a method more curious and capacious than the doctrine of inerrancy allows” (xviii) and “I encourage wondering. Our best questions often sound like doubts, yet I believe curiosity is the most reverent stance a human can take” (xix). Grant’s curiosity is supported by the tradition of midrash, and it reveals what close attention she pays to all of creation. It is the book’s greatest strength. It cultivates joy.
Rather than outline each chapter, I’ll focus on the section of the book that explores the stories of Sarai / Sarah, Hagar, Abram / Abraham, Isaac, and Ishmael. This family story comprises a significant portion of Genesis, and Grant also pays it substantial attention. Like all family stories, the whole story can be understood only through knowledge of its many subplots, and like all family stories, much of it seems unfair, misguided, implausible, even at times downright evil. After concluding her chapter on the Tower of Babel, Grant opens chapter six with an anecdote describing John Cage’s (in)famous composition, “4’ 33”,” a piece consisting entirely of silence that puzzled, then enraged much of its original audience. One question is why Grant would devote two full pages to this “music,” but another, more fruitful question, is why audience members reacted with such intensity. Why not just dismiss the composer as a fraud or prankster? Grant suggests that “the strange silence of John Cage asks only one impossible thing of his audiences: to listen” (86). What we want, so often, when we desire to listen to anything outside of ourselves is to be distracted from whatever is within us. That is part of Cage’s point, and it provides the logical, spiritual transition for Grant to begin discussing the call of Abraham: “By listening, we meet the universe beyond ourselves. We also meet the universe within, who we actually are. And that quiet place of truth is also where we encounter God. This is how the story of Abram, the originator of Israel, begins” (86-87).
ADVERTISEMENT:
Grant introduces that call, God’s instruction to Abram to leave his country, and then she turns to an exploration of human fetal development, focusing on a fetus’s ability to recognize language. Here, she combines scientific research with her own experience as a pregnant woman and mother. Then she returns to Abram—how, exactly, had he heard God’s voice, and why had he obeyed? This question leads her to a discussion of theories of the development of the human mind. Here, she also tells a story of two nineteenth-century English women, Agnes and Margaret Smith, who having learned the Biblical and other Mideastern languages, traveled to Egypt, where they were shown ancient manuscripts and discovered what was to that point “the oldest and most complete translation of any gospel discovered before” (93-94). Unsurprisingly, the women’s discovery was questioned and distrusted but eventually even the most misogynistic skeptics agreed that it was authentic. Grant returns again to Abram, pursuing her question of why he obeyed, narrating several extra-Biblical legends about this man “determined to unearth the truth of the universe” (97). So ends chapter six.
Throughout the next few chapters, as Grant examines the remaining plot points of this story—Sarai’s offer of her slave, Hagar, to Abram and the birth of Ishmael, the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, the eventual birth of Isaac, Sarah’s subsequent casting out of Hagar and Ishmael, Abraham’s trek with Isaac up Moriah where Isaac is, miraculously, not sacrificed. In these chapters, we also read about sea life on the ocean floor, Biblical manuscripts and translation, Teresa of Avila, the construction of the Suez Canal, a formerly enslaved woman’s refusal to read Paul’s epistles, self-immolation by Tibetan Buddhist monks, and several other topics. This list could make it seem as though the chapters are scattered or incoherent, but the astonishing fact is that all of these subjects are so skillfully woven together. And they all contribute to the points Grant is making about her reading and interpretation of Genesis. On almost every page of this book, I paused to think, isn’t that interesting.
That something is interesting, however, doesn’t mean it is correct. Any debate between those who expound Biblical inerrancy and literal interpretation and those who read the Bible relying on other interpretive methods comes down to a question of correctness. What if a given interpretation is incorrect? What might the consequences be? Grant addresses this question with humility, yet head-on. “I admit I fear being wrong about God,” she says. “What if I have received God with confusion instead of clarity?” (172). Eventually she reaches this conclusion: “Flawed interpretation does not anger, distress, or bother God…God seems to be encouraging us to risk being wrong in pursuit of what is right. Being wrong is not the conclusion; God is” (174). Every Biblical character, every prophet and saint was surely wrong about something. And yet, God is.
Grant is obviously interested in a multitude of topics, but her real intellectual skill is in understanding how they’re connected. Everything is connected, the book implicitly argues, which means that everything is connected to the Bible—which means that exploring anything, from evolution to economics, from meteorology to agronomy, from linguistics to carpentry, will help us read the Bible more deeply, more thoroughly, more delightfully. That’s how most readers will experience Knock at the Sky, I suspect, with delight.
Lynn Domina
Lynn Domina the author of several books, including three collections of poetry: Inland Sea, Framed in Silence, and Corporal Works. She is also the author of a collection of reflections, Devotions from HERstory: 31 Days with Women of Faith. She teaches English at Northern Michigan University and occasional poetry classes at Bethany Theological Seminary. Read more here: www.lynndomina.com
 Reading for the Common Good From ERB Editor Christopher Smith "This book will inspire, motivate and challenge anyone who cares a whit about the written word, the world of ideas, the shape of our communities and the life of the church." -Karen Swallow Prior Enter your email below to sign up for our weekly newsletter & download your FREE copy of this ebook! |
Understanding Christian Nationalism [A Reading Guide] |
 Most Anticipated Books of the Fall for Christian Readers!
|
 Hilarious One-Star Customer Reviews of Bibles |
