I love the Bible.
Something in me feels a little strange saying those words so simply. In the span of four words, I may have just solidly placed myself in "that weird evangelical camp…" I mean, I’m an intelligent, hard-working, 20-something woman…am I supposed to be so blunt about loving the Bible?
It’s just a 1-inch thick leather-bound book. It’s hotly debated during every second of the day (documentary hypothesis, anyone? legitimacy? the deuterocanonical books? justice and war and slavery? roles of women? divine inspiration?). It has been used to deeply wound people throughout generations. Some say that it is restrictive, harsh, and demeaning. Others say it’s completely archaic, and still others stake claim in the camp that the Bible is just plain boring.
But I just love it.
Why, you may ask? Because the Bible isn't merely an informative religious text.
It invites me into a story far more glorious and vast than any I could ever dream.
When I open the thin pages of my Bible, I immediately cross cultures. I am thrown into court scenes and intense battles. I encounter women who are in leadership positions far ahead of their times. I am graced with eloquent turns of phrase, poetry beyond what I am capable of even thinking about. I am invited into ancient communities and people’s personal mailboxes. I am taken along for miraculous healings, stunning prophecies, ancient storytelling, family drama, words of warning, and theological treatises.
And that’s only the beginning.
This is a book, a narrative, a story, that invites me to a far grander vision than I could dream up on my own. And for me, that’s saying something. Because, for those of you who know me, you know that I am quite a dreamer. Honestly, I have spent my entire life dreaming. I have distinct memories of spinning stories while sitting under poplar trees as a little girl, imagining grandiose basketball successes in my high school years, planning my future while walking to college classes. I read fiction like a fiend. I dream up stories for myself and for every one of my friends. I paint pictures and write narratives in my mind…you give me a topic, and I’ll dream up the best, most goosebump-producing story I can.
And the Bible makes all of my grandiose attempts at dreaming look tiny and small.
As a human being, I can only dream so far. My ambitions, hopes, ideals, and glorious ideas can only go so far before they are ensnared by the logical complications of money, time, realism, competency, or relationships. I am finite. Even this summer, when I was struck by the remarkable vision and dreams of Steve Jobs (obviously I was reading the biography...couldn't help Apple-loving myself!), I realized that even he had a “cap” on his vision and dreams. They could only go so far (plus, he didn’t always win the “Best People Person” award in regard implementing them…but that’s besides the point...).
But the Bible…the Bible, on the other hand, has none of these human limits or capacity. What I encounter when I open my Bible is the type of dream and vision that makes my hair stand on end, the kind that fills my heart with unexplainable hope.
It's a compelling vision for a world that lives in shalom, or wholeness.
It's the undeniable truth of a God who spun the very world into motion.
It's a striking dream for a day when nothing will harm or destroy God’s creation.
It's an irresistible portrait of complete relational harmony.
It's the shocking reality of a King who serves.
It's a hard-to-understand claim that all things are being made new.
It's the joyful freedom from death and pain.
It's the radical and countercultural invitation to true community.
This is a vision of reality far grander than anything I could ever dream, reaching farther than my human capacity could wonder or conjure. But it doesn't stop there.
This vision invites me in. This compelling, grand, far-reaching vision is the reality that I am invited to live in. The God of this Bible has not written this story apart from me…instead, he has crafted a literary and theological masterpiece that doesn’t simply stop on the thin pages of a leather bound book. Instead, he has graciously invited me to be a part of the vast scope of the Great Story – His Story.
Now that's something.
So yes. I love the Bible. And yes, that also means that I poke and prod and wonder and question and debate. Who wrote Hebrews, anyway? What is the literary genre of Jonah? Paul, why did you have to phrase it like that? And how does this ancient text fit into my life? While I’m at it…what is my view on the documentary hypothesis theory? Plus, Matthew, were the Pharisees really that terrible? And, what did that phrase really mean in the original Greek?
And, I'll be the first to admit that even though I say I love the Bible, this love certainly isn't the feel-good-yippy-skippy-wow-I'm-head-over-heels love that happens when you're a bit twitter pated with something (or someone...). With the Bible, it's like that sometimes, but not usually.
Most of the time, the love I have for the Bible is the sort of love that happens in families, in a great friendships, or in a marriage. It's the steady, faithful kind of love that comes from a commitment to honor and care for something. It's the type of love that reaches down further in my belly than I can explain, the type of love that truly binds me to something or someone. And so, in spite of the thousands of questions and frustrations I have with the Bible, I am committed to it. I can't let it go. And it won't let me go. I love it.
I am hopelessly drawn toward the grand vision that oozes from each page. I am compelled and given hope by the reality that regardless of the depth of human failure present in the narrative of Scripture, that this God who hung the moon and filled the seas is relentlessly moving forward in making all things new, in bringing the perfect, whole, shalom Kingdom of God to this broken and hurting earth.
Every day, I see that Kingdom of God seeping into the broken cracks and crevices of our world. So I know it’s coming. But until then, my soul is nourished by the vision found in the thin pages of my Bible.
And so I love it.
Something in me feels a little strange saying those words so simply. In the span of four words, I may have just solidly placed myself in "that weird evangelical camp…" I mean, I’m an intelligent, hard-working, 20-something woman…am I supposed to be so blunt about loving the Bible?
It’s just a 1-inch thick leather-bound book. It’s hotly debated during every second of the day (documentary hypothesis, anyone? legitimacy? the deuterocanonical books? justice and war and slavery? roles of women? divine inspiration?). It has been used to deeply wound people throughout generations. Some say that it is restrictive, harsh, and demeaning. Others say it’s completely archaic, and still others stake claim in the camp that the Bible is just plain boring.
But I just love it.
Why, you may ask? Because the Bible isn't merely an informative religious text.
It invites me into a story far more glorious and vast than any I could ever dream.
When I open the thin pages of my Bible, I immediately cross cultures. I am thrown into court scenes and intense battles. I encounter women who are in leadership positions far ahead of their times. I am graced with eloquent turns of phrase, poetry beyond what I am capable of even thinking about. I am invited into ancient communities and people’s personal mailboxes. I am taken along for miraculous healings, stunning prophecies, ancient storytelling, family drama, words of warning, and theological treatises.
And that’s only the beginning.
This is a book, a narrative, a story, that invites me to a far grander vision than I could dream up on my own. And for me, that’s saying something. Because, for those of you who know me, you know that I am quite a dreamer. Honestly, I have spent my entire life dreaming. I have distinct memories of spinning stories while sitting under poplar trees as a little girl, imagining grandiose basketball successes in my high school years, planning my future while walking to college classes. I read fiction like a fiend. I dream up stories for myself and for every one of my friends. I paint pictures and write narratives in my mind…you give me a topic, and I’ll dream up the best, most goosebump-producing story I can.
And the Bible makes all of my grandiose attempts at dreaming look tiny and small.
As a human being, I can only dream so far. My ambitions, hopes, ideals, and glorious ideas can only go so far before they are ensnared by the logical complications of money, time, realism, competency, or relationships. I am finite. Even this summer, when I was struck by the remarkable vision and dreams of Steve Jobs (obviously I was reading the biography...couldn't help Apple-loving myself!), I realized that even he had a “cap” on his vision and dreams. They could only go so far (plus, he didn’t always win the “Best People Person” award in regard implementing them…but that’s besides the point...).
But the Bible…the Bible, on the other hand, has none of these human limits or capacity. What I encounter when I open my Bible is the type of dream and vision that makes my hair stand on end, the kind that fills my heart with unexplainable hope.
It's a compelling vision for a world that lives in shalom, or wholeness.
It's the undeniable truth of a God who spun the very world into motion.
It's a striking dream for a day when nothing will harm or destroy God’s creation.
It's an irresistible portrait of complete relational harmony.
It's the shocking reality of a King who serves.
It's a hard-to-understand claim that all things are being made new.
It's the joyful freedom from death and pain.
It's the radical and countercultural invitation to true community.
This is a vision of reality far grander than anything I could ever dream, reaching farther than my human capacity could wonder or conjure. But it doesn't stop there.
This vision invites me in. This compelling, grand, far-reaching vision is the reality that I am invited to live in. The God of this Bible has not written this story apart from me…instead, he has crafted a literary and theological masterpiece that doesn’t simply stop on the thin pages of a leather bound book. Instead, he has graciously invited me to be a part of the vast scope of the Great Story – His Story.
Now that's something.
So yes. I love the Bible. And yes, that also means that I poke and prod and wonder and question and debate. Who wrote Hebrews, anyway? What is the literary genre of Jonah? Paul, why did you have to phrase it like that? And how does this ancient text fit into my life? While I’m at it…what is my view on the documentary hypothesis theory? Plus, Matthew, were the Pharisees really that terrible? And, what did that phrase really mean in the original Greek?
And, I'll be the first to admit that even though I say I love the Bible, this love certainly isn't the feel-good-yippy-skippy-wow-I'm-head-over-heels love that happens when you're a bit twitter pated with something (or someone...). With the Bible, it's like that sometimes, but not usually.
Most of the time, the love I have for the Bible is the sort of love that happens in families, in a great friendships, or in a marriage. It's the steady, faithful kind of love that comes from a commitment to honor and care for something. It's the type of love that reaches down further in my belly than I can explain, the type of love that truly binds me to something or someone. And so, in spite of the thousands of questions and frustrations I have with the Bible, I am committed to it. I can't let it go. And it won't let me go. I love it.
I am hopelessly drawn toward the grand vision that oozes from each page. I am compelled and given hope by the reality that regardless of the depth of human failure present in the narrative of Scripture, that this God who hung the moon and filled the seas is relentlessly moving forward in making all things new, in bringing the perfect, whole, shalom Kingdom of God to this broken and hurting earth.
Every day, I see that Kingdom of God seeping into the broken cracks and crevices of our world. So I know it’s coming. But until then, my soul is nourished by the vision found in the thin pages of my Bible.
And so I love it.