When I first became a Christian I was taught that the Bible was literally the word of God. The dogma went something like this: the creating life-force of all creation basically channeled the words through an open vessel (an author) who, upon receiving them, obediently wrote the words down. Because the words were directly from the Creator they were to be obeyed. One obeyed the words through submission to those in positions of authority, that is, the ones who interpreted the Bible.
I've now been a Christian for 33 years and I have become an interpreter of the Bible. I am a Pastor, set aside by the Christian community, and given the recognition that I have the authority and status to discern the words of the Bible. Through the years I have changed considerably my understanding of what those words mean, and most certainly how they came to be written, and how they ought to be used.
For example, I don't think that the Bible was channeled into an open vessel directly by the Creator of the universe. I don't think the Bible is the word of God. Rather I think the Bible records human words about God. The words of the Bible are a powerful expression of the faith of human authors writing for the purpose of inspiring trust that life's struggles can be overcome, and life's trauma can be healed. The Bible is written for the purpose of forming a community that can trust in the goodness of life.
This is the struggle at the heart of Christianity today. Much of the Christian world, particularly media Christianity, no longer trusts in the goodness of life. Much of Christianity celebrates the coming catastrophic end of life, counseling its adherents to cocoon together under hierarchal authority. Much of Christianity breeds fear and insecurity while dividing the world into camps of the obedient and the deviant. At first the obedient segregate, but inevitably they move to eradicate those who do not conform. Indeed, the great sin of Christianity has been its repudiation of Jesus' spirituality of inclusion and nonviolence. Rather than following his example, Christians made him a god in the image of Caesar. They made him a power to be obeyed, rather than a partner with whom one walks.
There is a better way to understand the Bible. As a human book its authority emerges from conversation and cooperation. God is not understood as an outside tyrant peering down upon the earth, insisting that we obey or die. Rather we are understood as intimately connected and alive within the very presence, some say womb, of God. Such an understanding yearns for equality, celebrates diversity, and becomes insatiably curious and optimistically enthusiastic about the future that is built together. There is an understanding of the Bible that is radically incarnational: that God is life itself awakening and unfolding its truth.