Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Selective Perception

I found a book the other day by a couple of social scientists noted in the field of Biblical anthropology, Bruce J. Malina and John J. Pilch, that reminded me again how much I love that subject. The book is a social science commentary on the authentic letters of Paul. Like most books these days, it begins with a sort of lowest common denominator, defining terms and context for what is to follow. It points out that what modern readers understand when they read Paul's letters (or indeed, most other things, scriptural or not) isn't necessarily what those who read or heard them when the ink was barely dry would read and understand. They had a context that we don't: they had a common language and customs, understanding of how their world worked, familiarity with roles of individuals, interpretation of words, phrases and the like.

We, looking back two thousand years or so, bring our modern preconceptions along, seeing things that aren't there and missing things that are in what social scientists call "selective perception". Once we are aware of this, we can begin to learn about their world, learn to see what they saw, hear what they heard, and maybe understand some of the sayings, references and background that now eludes us and makes us question, "What the heck was he talking about? Why couldn't he just spell it out?" In his time, Paul didn't need to spell it out; it would have already been understood from the context of the letter and the community to which it was written by someone they knew and trusted.

I thought about this last night when a friend and I were talking about a social occasion she recently attended, a small group of couples and singles, mostly middle-aged and older, a mixture of new members of the parish and folks who had been there for years. Conversation ranged over a number of topics but eventually got to the common thread running through the whole group, their parish church and its family. Like any community that has existed for an extended period of time, the parish has had its characters and memorable moments. While the stories about them are funny, sad or instructive to people who hadn't been there as long, they had to apply a selective perception that the older members who had actually known the characters and often witnessed the events didn't need. In a way, it was like an inside joke – it may be funny, but it's a lot funnier if you know the back story, the actual character or witnessed the event.

When I first found out about social science and Biblical anthropology it was almost like opening a door to a light, bright garden that I hadn't known was there. It was a new way of looking at things I thought I understood. Turns out I didn't understand them nearly as well as I thought I did. I was a victim of an unknown and undiagnosed case of selective perception. Through reading and study I've learned a lot but I know there's still a lot of iceberg under the surface that I haven't plumbed yet. I do know that I have to consciously try to leave my perceptions aside and be open to the nuances and back stories, insofar as I am able to do so.

In a way, one of the greatest "AHA!"moments learning to put aside a selective perception came from our then-curate who had been an accountant (she called it being a "bean counter," a slang phrase that we would understand but Paul would have really wondered about) and who gave a stunning analysis of Jesus' first miracle. She laid out her steps, figures, and processes, calculating the size of the vessels, amount of liquid they held, and came to the conclusion that Jesus was an overachiever; he had changed enough water into wine to keep a normal-sized (for that time) village of 250 souls (men, women AND children) happily buzzed for a solid year or more! And the wedding party was only for a week! First-century Christians might have had a chuckle when they heard of that miracle but here in my lifetime it was simply a display of Jesus' divinity (and his doing what his mother asked him to do).

Something I'm learning from reading this book is that I need to listen with less selective perception and more just plain listening. I need to know how to ask questions instead of focusing on making statements. I need to remember that there's always stuff that I won't pick up on or expect, even if someone speaks of a scenario that I have experience with myself. Each of us is an individual with our own set of experiences, understandings, knowledge and context. I need to be open-minded enough to listen for the back story, the flash of connection, and the engagement of the heart and less busy preparing a quick riposte or often well-meant but perhaps seemingly insincere (and sometimes perceived as totally false), "I know exactly how you feel."

I need to learn to read Paul through lenses that are both more and less sophisticated. I have to learn as much as I can about not just the similarities with the Romans and Corinthians and Thessalonians but the vast differences as well. Not only do I need to apply this to Paul but to everything I hear, read, see or experience.

Sometimes it isn't enough just to accept what seems real and plausible. Sometimes I have to look for what I didn't expect or even know about in order to really understand.

And now on to chapter 2! I have a feeling this book is going to be intriguing.

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