A standard chiasm is pretty but a Bible Matrix chiasm is a portal.
The difference between a chiasm and a Bible Matrix chiasm is the difference between mere symmetrical patterning and the use of a covenant arrangement for a didactic purpose. Both formats are a subtle means of conveying unwritten information, but the matrix also describes a step-by-step process of transformation.
In other words, a standard symmetry-only chiasm demonstrates unity and a coherent intent by the Divine Author (as opposed to a haphazard compilation or JEDP-type combination of different texts by fallible men), but a Bible Matrix chiasm also describes a process of transformation-by-covenant.
The “X” of the text becomes a chicane, or an hourglass, through which an object, individual, or even a nation, passes in order to grow into a state of greater maturity. At the center is a test of faith of some sort, a refining by fire, followed by a qualification for—or disqualification from—greater authority to serve. The old form dies and rises as something new. What was merely natural (the perishable) becomes spiritual (the imperishable). A son of man becomes a Son of God. What is singular is multiplied. What is good becomes great.
Moreover, whereas the internal mirroring in a standard chiasm highlights the correspondence between pairs of events in the pattern, a Bible Matrix chiasm is an actual “type,” a “sentence” of symbols which not only highlights these pairs but also points beyond itself to other similar sequences. There is internal mirroring but there is also external mirroring. Thus, a standard chiasm is pretty but a Bible Matrix chiasm is a portal.
While “flying geese” chiasms—the basic “V” shape of literary symmetry—can be long and detailed (for instance, the entire Flood narrative is a single, symmetrical unit), the Bible Matrix formula at any given level is limited to five steps (as a legal document) or seven steps (as history). Because each “quantum” chiasm is relatively simple, the complexity of the outcome is not the result of an extensive symmetrical arrangement but the “outflow” of multiple fractal iterations of the same algorithm. Since every one of these structures, despite its unique characteristics, bears the same image as all the others, they all “speak to” each other and help us to interpret each other. They are like a flock of birds in the heavens or a school of fish in the sea, a “one” that is actually a “many,” a body of individuals behaving as one because they share the same mind. Governed by this inherent koinonia, they constitute a “host.”
The confounding thing for many theologians is the fact that the tie that binds them is unseen. Like the invisible Spirit of God, it is discerned only through its effects on the visible world (John 3:8). The principle known as “quantum entanglement” is a helpful analogy. The actual link between these chiasms, wherever they are and whenever they were written, is not only invisible but also immediate, just as it is with linked particles in quantum physics. Karl Tate from LiveScience explains:
In quantum physics, entangled particles remain connected so that actions performed on one affect the other, even when separated by great distances. The phenomenon so riled Albert Einstein that he called it “spooky action at a distance”…
Entanglement occurs when a pair of particles, such as photons, interact physically. A laser beam fired through a certain type of crystal can cause individual photons to be split into pairs of entangled photons. The photons can be separated by a large distance, hundreds of miles or even more. When observed, Photon A takes on an up-spin state. Entangled Photon B, though now far away, takes up a state relative to that of Photon A (in this case, a down-spin state). The transfer of state between Photon A and Photon B takes place at a speed of at least 10,000 times the speed of light, possibly even instantaneously, regardless of distance.1
Instead of the isolated, and often complicated, “geese” chiasms that are linear, static, and two-dimensional, every “quantum” chiasm is an instant portal to every other “quantum” chiasm.
For example, when we notice that the early chapters of Matthew recapitulate the pattern of the Pentateuch, those ancient events and the life of Jesus become “quantum-entangled” in a literary sense. As we read Matthew, we are not only instantly transported back to those seminal events, but also required to notice the differences between the events as well as the similarities. One significant difference is that Jesus passes through this pattern alone, rather than as the head of a nation.
When we observe that the first five chapters of Genesis work through the same pattern, we are instantly transported forwards from the mitigated curse upon the fruit of the land and the womb in Adam to the fulfillment of the Abrahamic “land and womb” promises in Moses.
Contrary to the position of academics looking for excuses to question the historicity of Genesis 1-11, the later iterations of the pattern do not mean that the earlier iterations are fiction or myth (or even “true myth,” which is a serpentine euphemism for “true fiction.” Or true lies). In fact, the later, more detailed iterations help us to understand the earlier, frustratingly succinct ones, a God-given opportunity for exegetical progress that these daft boffins seem to entirely overlook.
This “portal” feature not only works in a linear fashion but is also multi-dimensional, taking us not only forwards and backwards but also in and out, pulling focus from the outer limits to a single protagonist and back again. A good example is the fact that the pattern of commission, sin, and atonement (“coverings”) as it related to Adam is then repeated in macrocosm in the history from Adam to Noah, ending with the Great Flood as a global “day of coverings.” Where Adam was created in the Land and lifted up as a “firstfruits” into the Garden-Sanctuary, Enoch is taken by God at the end of the Adamic “pentateuch” in a recapitulation of the same pattern.
So, identifying the structure of the text opens to us a fresh avenue of understanding, one that exposes much of what has been written over the centuries as well-intentioned but ultimately worthless speculation. I maintain that a sound understanding and application of the covenant-literary structure of the Bible would make a great percentage of theological writings obsolete. The saying, “If you can’t explain it simply, you don’t understand it well enough,” is wrongly attributed to Albert Einstein, who was apparently a terrible lecturer, continually veering off into tangential observations. (What he did say, when asked for a brief quote concerning the work for which he won a Nobel Prize, was that if it could be summarized in a sentence, it would not be worth the prize!) However, a quote attributed to Lord Rutherford Nelson carries the same idea: “An alleged scientific discovery has no merit unless it can be explained to a barmaid.” God has made the world in such a way that variation and complexity originate from relatively simple algorithms. A parrot is forever a parrot, a dog is forever a dog, and a cat is forever a cat, but genetic diversification within each species has provided innumerable variations upon the same theme. The Word of God is no different. While it seems complicated to the untrained eye (such as the eyes of theological academics, who seem content to revel in apparent contradiction and complexity because it keeps them in a job), the Bible can, in fact, be explained very simply. It is simple enough that a child can understand it, so an actual barmaid would have no problem whatsoever. If you have a pen handy the next time you visit a tavern, the basic “V”-shaped algorithm fits nicely onto a square paper napkin folded in half.
This is the introduction from Schema: A Journal of Systematic Typology Vol. 5.
