How The Bible Can Help Build Character—Fictional Ones,
That Is…
If you want to study how to write multidimensional, realistically
imperfect characters, with complex backstories and universally recognized flaws
and attributes, look no further than the Hebrew Bible. Show me a flawless hero
in the Five Books of Moses—I challenge you. And show me a reader of the Bible
who can’t identify with at least one person depicted there, in some compelling,
and possibly life-changing way.
Why, one might wonder, is a book designed to teach and serve
as Law, replete with flawed examples of humanity? Some Bible readers would say
that such questions are moot, applicable only to fiction; they would assert
that the people of the Bible are not “characters,” but ancestors—real people—and they must be portrayed truthfully because
the Bible is nonfiction, a historical record. Others, who read the Bible as
historical fiction, might argue that the omniscient narrator point-of-view of
realistically flawed characters allows readers to decide, based on their own
perspectives, which characters to connect with as they read, and also to find
new connections with each rereading as their own perspectives about life evolve
over time. In either case, some readers might complain that it’s difficult to
feel connected to, or even sympathetic toward, characters we would only emulate
by being the opposite of them. I would point out to such readers that all of us
read stories, in a way, to find and define ourselves, and every person can find
aspects of their own character within the ultimate compendium of human traits
known as the Bible.
- If I want to portray a story of a nonconformist who follows
only the supernatural stirrings within his own heart and soul, defying social
norms to do so, because he knows somehow that he is right about society’s need
for a new way of thinking, I need only study the story of Abraham.
- To create a complex
tale of deception and extortion among family or friends, I can find material
within the biblical scenes about blind Isaac; his scheming son, Jacob; his
impulsive son, Esau; and their manipulative mother, Rebecca.
- For a novel
centered on dangerous sibling rivalry that almost destroys a family and alters
society itself, I could find source material in the ancient stories of Jacob
and his twelve sons.
- To portray a boy whose deep friendship with another boy is
gossiped about as “gay,” a boy who stands up for his friendship even if it
means challenging authority, I need to study the Bible story of David and
Jonathan—the original “bromance.”
- If I want to share a story of an outcast,
morally corrupt young woman who redeems herself by risking her life for the
sake of a greater social good, I can study the tale of Rahab, the prostitute,
who saved a city from complete destruction.
- If I want to create a political
tale of a paradoxically noble, yet self-centered leader whose downfall seems to
be an addiction to sex, I could borrow from the story of King David (not to mention some recent historical figures).
- And if I decide
to depict a story of a boy with psychic gifts, good looks, and charisma, a boy
who evokes as much bitter envy as he does awe, a boy who becomes victimized by
the ones meant to protect him, and then uses his gifts to reverse his fortune change
the world, that’s the story of Joseph, son of Rachel and Jacob.
Etcetera… You get the idea. The archetypes of most multidimensional
characters have already appeared in the world’s best-selling, longest-existing
collection of tales of humanity. The bible is not just for religious study;
it’s not just about laws and wars and punishments; it’s not just about
obedience to God and warnings about defiance of commandments; the bible is the
fountainhead of all humanity-based writing. Amen!
