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Walking across my college
campus after one of my Medieval Literature classes, I overheard the following
conversation from my fellow students:
“I don’t need to hear this
Bible shit,” the young man said.
“Yeah. You’re right. I don’t
need this religion bull shit,” his girlfriend agreed.
“How was I supposed to know
that unicorns were considered a symbol for that Jesus guy?” he retorted.
“Christ!”
I sighed.
First of all, it’s true.
Unicorns, in the Middle Ages, were considered a symbol for the God of the
Christian faith. They symbolized purity, uniqueness, and holiness.
Later, my Medieval Literature
professor sadly informed me, “Linda, every semester, it gets harder and harder
to find anyone who’s even heard of Genesis, let alone read it. Try teaching a
class on Medieval Literature to people who have no working knowledge of their
own heritage.”
And so, it goes.
Once upon a time, the King
James’ version of the Bible was our national textbook. We taught children to
read from it. We gave them an appreciation of story because of it. We
catalogued human nature in it. We shared our heritage through it. And to our
children we imparted a basic system of rules that allowed for a common culture.
Literature, writing, poetry,
story, message, premise, metaphor, and simile: it’s all in there. The language
of the King James’ version of the Bible is challenging and beautiful. The
stories are compelling and dramatic. Close to Elizabethan English, it stretches
our comprehension. It’s an AP course in words and language, and it’s free.
Reading the Bible doesn’t have
to be about religion, if you don’t want it to be. That’s what I wish I would
have said to the young man in the above conversation. And then I would have
asked him, “Is it any wonder that the average reading level of the American
public has fallen to, according to the United Stated Department of Health and
Human Services, a seventh-grade level?”
Recently, while reading The New
Testament, I came across a phrase that spoke volumes to me as a writer. To the
Philippians, Paul said, “I joy.” What a beautiful way to express a fundamental
human state of being: happiness. He is happy. Clear. Concise. Elegant. I’ve
never read it expressed like that anywhere else, and I’ve read a lot.
In my opinion, I am a better
writer for having studied the language and story of the Bible, and I can
appreciate the power of symbols—like unicorns.
Free the speech. Read.
Everything. Always.
And I hope you will not be afraid
to think deeply about, “Why the world wags and who wags it.” (From, The Once
and Future King, by T. H. White, published the year I was born.)
Linda (I Joy) Zern
