The Bible in Brickbats

The Brick Bible: A New Spin on the Old Testament, as told and illustrated by Brendan Powell Smith.  Skyhorse Publishing, 2011, 270 pages.

In his Introduction, the author reveals why he decided to stage Bible stories with Legos: “People should really know what’s in the Bible.  For a book that so many of us consider our ultimate moral guide and the very word of God, it can be shocking to consider how few people ever actually read it.”

What he means is, more people should be shocked by it.  Smith takes the tone of the earnest skeptic: Don’t you Christians know that the Bible is full of sex, blood, and gore?  That the Old Testament God is full of wrath?  Several years ago he began a massive website project to convey these hard truths via Legos, but only last year did his efforts see print.  Reviewers seem confused.  Rolling Stone, being cute, calls it “The greatest toy story ever told.”   The Baltimore Sun muses that “Smith seems to be trying to portray the Bible as accurately as possible.”  “Our evolving forms of religious expression may be unsettling, but it’s hard to find fault with Brendan smith’s whimsical art work . . .” (Washington Post).

Actually, it’s not that hard.

Smith begins “In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth . . .”  The Lord appears as, guess what, a man with a long white beard and long white robe and cocked white eyebrows that make him look angry.  He always looks angry, even when swinging in a hammock (resting) on Day Seven.  That’s problem number one, and problem two is like unto it: presenting Yahweh as a two-inch toy, the same size as the other Lego peeps, is likely to have some effect on a child’s imagination—God like us, instead of God with us.  “Steadfast love and faithfulness” don’t appear to be part of his character, only retaliation for crimes that don’t seem that heinous to begin with.  When he strikes down a transgressor, it’s interpreted literally: a white-bearded man hacking away with a hatchet or bonking with an oversize club.  That would be funny, except it’s not.

Children or parents who expect to see familiar tales unfolded may be surprised at the inclusion of lesser-known events: the rape of Dinah, the Lord’s strange encounter with Moses in Ex. 4:24, Jephtha’s daughter, the Levite’s concubine, the capture of the Midianite virgins, Rizpah and her children, etc.  If it bleeds, it gets the full Lego treatment, along with a gory interpretation of the Ten Commandments and a peculiar interest in circumcision. Smith’s Old Testament ends in Chronicles, with King Asa vowing to “seek Yahweh, the God of their ancestors, wholeheartedly,” and to execute anyone who doesn’t do the same.

The artwork is often clever but not brilliant: an obsessed 15-year-old with an inexhaustible supply of Legos and a decent camera could have produced something similar.  The choice of medium may mostly be a matter of preference—obviously Smith likes Legos—but it also reduces his premise to basic shapes and primary colors, mainly red.  One Amazon reviewer chortles that he bought the book so his kids would have anti-Christian ammunition when their grandparents took them to Sunday school.  That kinda gives the game away—The Brick Bible is a kid’s argument.  But it pictures a common theme of atheists and skeptics from the Enlightenment to Christopher Hitchens: Who could worship a “god” like this?

In such a context, the argument seems unanswerable: not only have skeptics (supposedly) seized the moral high ground, but they’ve made everybody else look like fools.  Instead of sputtering protests, believers can ask some questions of their own: That moral high ground you’re standing on–where did it come from in the first place?  How do you account for the fact that almost everyone has a) some sense of right and wrong and b) some idea of spiritual reality?  If the premise of Genesis 1 is true—that God created the universe and everything in it, moreover declaring it good—wouldn’t He have some proprietary rights over it?  And wouldn’t He have a different perspective than ours?  Might He be against things that hurt us?  And finally, is there any judgment rained on anyone in the OT that He didn’t eventually take on Himself in the person of Christ?

Amazon reader reviews indicate that Christians are buying the book, apparently in good faith, and even requesting images to use in Sunday school.  Even if the intent of The Brick Bible were not so toxic, that would be a bad idea.  The Bible is about real people dealing with a real God: presenting them through a toy medium is reductionism at best.  A New Spin on the New Testament is due in December (just in time for Christmas—sweet!), and Brick versions of Noah’s Ark and The Ten Commandments are already available.  These are unabashedly marketed to children–I found the big deluxe BB in the children’s section of our local public library.  It looks cute, but it bites.  These bricks are actually brickbats.

Ever since our launch, we’ve been reporting on Children’s Bibles, Bible Storybooks, Bible-related picture books, and comic books, and oh yes, the Bible itself.  See Emily’s initial post on Buying Your First Story Bible, as well as The Word of God for Kids and Bible Gifts For Kids.  Our intern Jack reviewed Kingstone Media’s treatment of Daniel.  Picturing God reviews two picture books about God’s character, and 400 Candles  offers thoughts about using the King James Version in your Bible curriculum.