The Bible is Art: Introduction

The Bible is the greatest work of literary genius, and I want to show you how.

Let us start with genius. To do this, let us think about three works of extraordinary genius. The first is Caravaggio’s painting Narcissus. You have probably seen this before. It is about the Greek myth of Narcissus, a man so self-obsessed and self-absorbed that one day he catches a glimpse of himself in the reflection of a pool of water. He is so enamored with himself that he ends up dying while staring at his own reflection. That is Caravaggio’s painting—pretty simple, right?

The second is Plato’s Republic, arguably one of the greatest pieces of philosophical work ever written. Consider just the first line of the Republic. Plato writes: “I went down to the Piraeus.” That is it. It is pretty straightforward, simply setting the scene. We get the location: they are going down—Socrates and his companion—to the Piraeus, a port town where many people gathered. Plato is establishing the main characters, the setting, and the first action of the plot: going down to the Piraeus.

The third work of genius is the Bible, specifically Matthew’s Gospel. In the second chapter of Matthew, Jesus is born, but it soon becomes too dangerous for him to stay in Israel. Warned by an angel, his family flees down into Egypt. Later, when it is safe, he returns. After that happens, Matthew quotes an Old Testament text:

This was to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet: “Out of Egypt I have called my son.”

On the surface, what is happening is straightforward. Jesus shares a geographical movement similar to another of God’s sons in the Old Testament: the nation of Israel, who was first called God’s son. Just like Israel in the Exodus, Jesus goes down into Egypt and comes back out. Matthew makes a parallel between them, noting this shared journey.

What Is Genius?

Now, here is the strange thing. Who is the first person you think of when you hear the word “genius”? Albert Einstein, right? Or what do you picture if a work of genius were sitting in front of you—a page with words or numbers on it? Most people think of complicated language or intricate equations. But when you look at works generally accepted as masterpieces of genius, their surface is often quite simple and comprehensible even to a child.

Genius is not merely complicated language or numbers. Consider this thought experiment: imagine a scientist makes a great discovery, writes a paper about it, and sends it off for publication. His editor says, “This is an amazing work of genius you have created here. Just one thing: can you rewrite it so a ten-year-old can understand it?”

What would the scientist say? He would probably reply, “Have you read it? There is simply no way I could do that. It is impossible; it is too hard.”

Notice what happened. It was not too hard for the genius to discover his great insight, but it was too difficult for him to communicate it simply to a child. Real genius is the ability to communicate simple truths and profound truths at the exact same time. It is the capacity to speak to both the pedestrian and the PhD with the very same language.

The Eye of Narcissus

The simple truth in Caravaggio’s painting is easy enough: it depicts the story of Narcissus. But what else is going on at a deeper level for the PhD?

First, notice the main shape of the pose. It is circular, an oval, shaped very much like an eye. Notice, too, the primary blotch of color—the most saturated color in the painting. It is his knee, which is green, sitting right inside that oval. Both his pose and this color are meant to symbolize an eye: the green knee functions as the iris, framed by the oval shape of the body. Caravaggio has constructed the entire architecture of the image around the central organ of Narcissus’s vice.

There is more. Look at how he has bisected the image into two halves: Narcissus above, and the reflection below. At first glance you might say it is just a reflection. But look closer. His face in the water has become dark, ugly, and dead. And that vibrant blotch of green color on the knee is entirely gone. Caravaggio is showing the consequence of Narcissus’s self-obsession: this reflection shows what will happen to him. He will become less lively and more dead. Even his left hand is already entering the water, showing that Narcissus has already begun stepping into the death foretold in his reflection.

Descending into the Cave

Plato starts his dialogue by giving us the basic narrative elements—character, setting, and action. But he is doing something else as well. Recall the allegory of the cave from the Republic. Plato pictures the world as a dark cave where prisoners are chained to a wall, mistaking flickering shadows for reality. For Plato and Socrates, this is the condition of ordinary humanity: moving through a world of shadows rather than truth. The philosopher’s task is to descend into that cave from above, where he has been contemplating the Good.

Notice how Plato begins: “I went down to the Piraeus.” In that subtle opening move, he is already characterizing Socrates and framing the entire work. The Republic is Socrates descending into the cave. The dialogue itself goes down to where the people are in order to enlighten us about reality. That entire philosophical mission is anticipated in the very first action.

Israel Has Become Egypt

Now consider the third and most striking example. At first glance, Matthew is drawing a simple parallel: Israel went down into Egypt and came out, and now Jesus does the same. But when you piece the parallel together, it does double duty, characterizing not only Jesus but Israel itself.

In the Old Testament, Pharaoh murdered the male infants, commanding the midwives to kill the newborn sons. In Matthew’s Gospel, King Herod does the exact same thing, slaughtering the children in Bethlehem. But Pharaoh was the king of Egypt, while Herod is the king of Israel. Matthew is suggesting that Israel has become Egypt. The ruler of Israel is acting like Pharaoh. Israel has grown so dark and corrupt that its king behaves like the paradigmatic enemy of God’s people in the Old Testament.

That depth within a simple narrative surface is true literary genius. And that is what we will explore: the literary art of the Bible, beginning by walking through its first masterpieces.

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