Once upon a time, there was a man who decided that unless every bite of food he put in his mouth was the best thing he'd ever eaten, he wouldn't bother to eat. After all, why should he waste his time on ground beef when there was filet mignon? Why eat PB&J when there was smoked meat on rye? Why would he go through the effort of chewing toast and butter when he could have eggs Benedict? Why would he eat broccoli when he'd rather have chocolate cream pie?
But life got in the way. His mornings were a little rushed, and he didn't have time to make eggs Benedict, so he went without breakfast. His wallet wouldn't support a steady diet of deli sandwiches and Kosher pickles, so he started to skip lunch, too. And when the filet mignon, which tasted so good at first, became boring, he stopped eating altogether. What was the point of eating if he didn't enjoy it?
The man starved to death.
The end.
Stupid story, isn't it?
Everyone knows that we don't eat just to enjoy it. Oh, sure, there are moments when we have a truly spectacular meal. But there are also moments when we eat something simply because we're hungry. A PB&J sandwich fills the stomach and fuels the body just as well as a deli delight. Or we eat something that isn't our favourite because we know it's better for us than chocolate cream pie. After all, the purpose of eating is not enjoyment, although God has blessed us with a great ability to enjoy our food. The purpose of eating is to live -- to grow, to remain healthy and strong, to be able to battle disease and heal from injury, to have the energy to do those things to which God calls us. People around the world eat the same food day in, day out, meal after meal after meal, not because it tastes so wonderful, but simply because it is food, and they know they must eat to survive. No one who can help it will starve just because he or she doesn't enjoy every mouthful of food he eats.
Except when it comes to the Bread of Life. Jesus said, "Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God." And yet, all the time, people try to live by bread alone. I'm not talking about unbelievers. I'm talking about those who profess to follow Jesus.
It's boring.
I don't like what I'm reading.
I don't get anything out of it.
I don't feel any different.
It's too hard.
I've tried and it doesn't work.
What do you mean, it doesn't work? If I eat my peanut butter sandwich, it works. It enters my stomach, and it is digested, and it fuels my body. Was it a sublime experience to eat it? I don't like peanut butter THAT much! Do I feel my body breaking down the sandwich, or feel the various proteins and vitamens going about their respective duties? Hardly. But it works.
Yes, sometimes it's boring. So is toast. But it works.
Yes, sometimes it's hard. So is eating lobster. But it works.
Yes, sometimes I don't like what I read. I don't like eating cauliflower, either. But it works.
One of my friends and mentors is known to say, "Every time you crack the Book, you come face to face with God." I come face to face with him in the parables. He is the thundering voice of the prophets. He is the hero in the sweeping sagas of life and death, heartache and victory. He laughs -- and weeps -- his way through Psalms. He lives and loves and dies, and rises again in the Gospels. He guides and encourages and warns in Paul and the other epistles. I even come face to face with him in the geneologies and in those weird mildew laws. (Did you even know there were mildew laws?) Even if I don't know exactly how or when or where I saw him, he is there.
Do I realise that? Do I really believe that whatever I read, whenever I read, however much I read of his Word, I am face to face with God? That doesn't mean that it's going to be some kind of transcendant experience. It's hard to feel transcendant in the middle of the "begats". But you can bet your bottom dollar that he IS there. And you can bet your bottom dollar that I don't come face to face with God and it not "work". Moment by moment, day by day, impercepably perhaps, but irrevokably, I am changed. I have to be changed. Because I have met with God. And as certainly as the food I put into my body does its thing, more certainly still, God's word will not return empty, but will accomplish what he desires, and achieve the purpose for which he sent it (Isaiah 55:11).
From the time I was able to sit up in a high chair until the time I left the house, every evening after we had eaten, my parents read a chapter of the Bible out loud. We started in Genesis and went to Revelation, and then we started again. We read everything, even the begats and the weird mildew laws (that's how I know they're in there) and Song of Songs. Did I feel anything? You bet. I felt how ichy my nose was, but I couldn't scratch it. I felt how much I couldn't wait for the chapter to end so that I could get back to my book (the sublime one about horses and dogs and brave detectives, that made my heart pound with excitement). I felt despair at the sight of the huge mound of dishes I would have to wash when we were done. It was boring. It was hard. I didn't understand much of what I heard. I didn't feel like I got anything out of it. I didn't feel any different (other than stressed from having to sit still). We didn't even talk about it. We just read it and that was that. But you know what? It worked. And it still works. Every time I crack the Book, I come face to face with God, and it has shaped me and changed me and steadied me. Not immediately, but over time. Because God's Word never, NEVER returns empty. It will always accomplish that for which it was intended.
I wonder where we got the idea that reading the Word needs to be an experience, preferrably every single time.
Perhaps it is time we stop seeking the experience, and start trusting the Text. It works. Every time.
And the unbelievable part is that, just like when we eat we sometimes have a truly wonderful meal, sometimes when we crack the Book, we really SEE God. We feel him. We know that we are changed.
Because God is good like that.
No comments:
Post a Comment