Genesis 14

Genesis 14 has two odd occurrences that a good many people have embraced for various reasons.

First we have the rescue of Lot and his family from the five armies.  Whatever else this war was about, it certainly shows a side of Abram that we see nowhere else.  As a wealthy man in 20th-century (BC) Canaan, Abram had no doubt had to defend his property at various times, as shown by the fact that he had 300-odd men who could handle a sword, but it's interesting that this is the only time he's ever mentioned in connection with warfare.

After the battle, we meet Melchizedek, the "king of Salem", to whom Abram gives a tenth of his wealth.  Melchizedek is a mysterious figure, and has inspired a great deal of frankly crazy speculation about his true identity.  I won't get into that here, for the simple reason that the Bible doesn't get into it.  Remember the rule:  Scripture doesn't always tell us what we want to know, though it always tells us what we need to know.

The more important facet of this story is the tithe.  The tithe is solidly attested in the Mosaic Law, where it is the primary means of support for the priesthood.  Often, though, this passage is used to insist that the tithe applies to those not under the law, ie to Christians today.  I don't want to get into that here either, except to point out that this is the only time Abram is said to tithe to anyone.

And that's really what was going through my mind as I read this chapter:  how often these singular experiences are held up as normative for present-day believers in Christ.  Abram's single venture into military command is seen as somehow validating Christians' service in modern-day militaries, despite ample biblical and historical evidence that believers shouldn't be people of war.  Abram's tithe to Melchizedek is said to prove that we all owe tithes to a local congregation, despite the tithe appearing nowhere as a command in the New Testament.

Though I don't doubt the sincerity of those making these arguments, it's hard to see them as anything but proof-texting.  Text without context is pretext, as the old preaching advice goes, and that applies even when the pretext we're defending seems like an integral part of our modern beliefs.

Am I wrong?