The Bible: The Singularly Great Book

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The Great Books of Western Civilization were published in the middle of the twentieth century as a series of beautifully bound volumes that even inspired new collegiate programs of study. They were needed because Americans began realizing how much we had lost our cultural memory and literacy. The Great Books stood the test of time as the classic works known to form the mind and shape culture throughout history. Without exposure to these works, education became shallow and cultural amnesia set in as young people lost sight of the ideals that shaped our civilization.

The Church Fathers likewise preserved ancient works of literature, for they understood the power of language, how grammar was needed to receive and convey information, and that eloquence sweetened the delivery of speech. They found models in writers such as Virgil and Cicero who opened up for them the power of language and thought. They sought these goods not as ends in themselves, but as a means to access the singularly great book, the one given to us from above: the Bible.

When we think of engaging the Great Books, we might imagine sitting down in a comfortable chair and reading in leisure. Until the invention of the printing press in the mid-fifteenth century, however, very few could afford to purchase a book, which had to be copied by hand on parchment. The Bible shaped the Catholic mind and imagination in other ways, standing at the center of an entire worldview expressed in countless ways that were embedded within the life of the Church.  

The Bible is a living book whose power extends beyond reading. Reading remains the foundation, of course, as the words of the Bible transmit the Word of God itself. But its enfleshment extends beyond the page into the life of Christ’s Body, the Church. Its greatness cannot be confined simply to the text but to the entire life built around it. Bruce Gordon noted in his book, The Bible: A Global History (Basic Books, 2024), that,

“Without a doubt, one of the greatest mistruths perpetuated by the Protestant Reformation is that the Bible disappeared during the Middle Ages. True, few in the medieval world ever touched a Bible, and even fewer read it. Yet the Bible was everywhere: heard and seen in worship; performed on secondary stages erected in village squares, recounted in song, shown in pictures on church walls. It was in medicine, colloquial speech and roadside chapels and crosses. The medieval Bible was not limited to a seldom-seen book; it was the book of life. It was internalized in word and images through repeated experiences” (108, emphasis added).

The Bible has inspired unparalleled cultural achievements. Think of the Sistine Chapel, Bach’s St. Matthew’s Passion, or the great churches such as Chartres, places where the Bible’s message is proclaimed and enacted. The Church’s liturgy enters into the cosmic vision of the Bible that opens the door of Heaven, drawing us before the throne of God. Gordon relates how early Christians, especially in the East, understood that the realities of the Bible became present through the Divine Liturgy: “From the beginnings of Christian worship, liturgy gave shape to worshippers’ recollection and reenactment of the passion, burial and resurrection of the Son of God. In mind and body, they participated in the biblical story. … In the liturgy, the faithful were healed, their sins forgiven and their inheritance of the Kingdom of Heaven assured” (70).

Catholic education would do well to return to the Great Books of Western Civilization. In a Catholic vision, however, the Bible opens up the great narrative of the human story, enabling us to situate all the Great Books within its vision. Pre-Christian works speak to the longing and despair of a world lost in the tragedy of sin, searching desperately for a savior. The works that follow the Incarnation reflect this ultimate turning point, either embracing its deeper vision or rejecting it, creating a new crisis of meaning. All the Great Books either point toward the Bible as their fulfillment or are framed by it, as it situates all things within the ultimate narrative of reality.

While it is true that the greatest Book’s influence extends beyond solitary reading, we have been blessed with an explosion of resources for studying and praying with the Bible. Its words can penetrate our hearts and enlighten our minds, which is why we should regularly read from the Bible with a prayerful disposition. Pope Benedict XVI even thought that this prayer reading, known as lectio divina, could reinvigorate the Church:

“I would like in particular to recall and recommend the ancient tradition of Lectio Divina: the diligent reading of Sacred Scripture accompanied by prayer brings about that intimate dialogue in which the person reading hears God who is speaking, and in praying, responds to him with trusting openness of heart. If it is effectively promoted, this practice will bring to the Church — I am convinced of it — a new spiritual springtime” (Address for the 40th Anniversary of Dei Verbum, September 16, 2005).

This is a Book that makes things happen. It changes our lives, makes God present, inspires charity, builds communion and transforms culture. This is why the Bible stands alone as the singularly great book, one that must be read, prayed, imagined and lived.