Beer and Bible

For several months now, I have been attending a very unique bible study.  The very phrase “Bible study” summons up some well-furnished living room, warm and comfortable, with some kind of baked goods on the table and a church mom (who are, of course, the best kind of people) leading discussion on the gospels and how to live a godly life. 

That is not Beer and Bible.  B&B is held in the back room of a building in downtown Salem (such as it is) around a massive wooden table pushed against a raw brick wall.  The average age of the attendees is lower than thirty, and the percentage of those attendees who have tattoos is much higher than most people would think a Christian group would have.  That word, Christian, is not necessarily a universal descriptor, either.  This group regularly hosts Mormons, Catholics, and atheists, and there is heavy Jewish influence.  It’s extra Jewey, as our fearless leader has been known to say.

The presentation of the lessons is very casual—no one is told how to think or how to interpret the scripture.  And it is scripture, always, both Old and New Testament, with some support from rabbinical sources, but always directly referencing back to the scripture.  The tone is, essentially, “here’s what the Bible says, and here’s what a lot of old people have thought about it, and here’s some funny story about this passage, isn’t that cool?”

It’s a lot of fun: there is a great deal of humor involved, and the group puts a lovingly irreverent twist on everything that makes it accessible and enjoyable.  We have speculated in the past on whether mermaids and centaurs would be kosher, and once we went through a story of a prophet who “rode that ass”.  There have been live demonstrations of how to gird one’s loins and how, exactly, the prophets Elijah and Elisha might have healed sick children (it’s weird).  Tertiary syphilis is apparently not better than primary syphilis, and ‘foot’ was often used as a euphemism for the sex organ—yes, there are penis jokes in the bible (check out 1 Kings 12.10).  Then there are the tangents, which we attempt to confine to a single night once a month, but they rarely stay there.  Some of my favorite quotes, for which I cannot for the life of me remember the context, include “ankle-deep in live snakes” and “I have a glass bottle and one arm: come at me!”

The best part of Beer and Bible, though (aside from the beer, which is never officially provided but always seems to appear on the table), is that any question is allowed.  We dig deep, spending nearly an hour on a single word sometimes, and we make connections that I never would have made alone.  Phrases that I skim right over in my solo reading bring new meaning to the text when read in the light of history and tradition that has been lost over time.  It’s not about who is right and who is wrong about what scripture has to say.  It’s about giving out tools to help us find more meaning in the text, leaving the final decision of what to believe to us.  In the end, I think Jesus would be totally cool with it—and of course, he’s always welcome to come join us.  We’ll save him a beer.