I’ve been pondering a bit of a quandary lately – what to do with the Bible. Don’t get the wrong impression though – it’s not a quandary for me. It is though, and especially so, for those who claim to be “Christian,” but who don’t accept the Bible as God’s special revelation to man.
Because when it comes down to it, what may be known of God comes to us through the Bible. The quandary then is this – if one is to believe in an omnipotent and omniscient God, how does one actually know him? And if one does not believe in the Bible, then how can one believe that he did not preserve for us a way to know him to the best of our human abilities?
Over the millennia of human existence, wouldn’t that which God has preserved to reveal himself be most obvious to those to whom he is giving the revelation? If the Bible is not reliable, why would God allow for this collection of 66 books that go into great detail about his existence and work in the world – pretty much his entire game plan, from “love” to “wrath” – to exist in such prominence? I find it improbable that when this all shakes out we find out that we had it all wrong. That this huge collection of detailed history, poetry, and prophecy was a ruse and that God was actually just trying to speak to us through the obscure writings of some 4th century mystic.
Would God be so capricious? Perhaps the one who we cannot know through any particular revelation. But the one we know through the Bible – you know, the one to whom everyone has no problem pointing to as “love” – isn’t. But then again, if you can pick and choose, it seems easy enough to be able to exclude the verses that tell us his character in that way too.
I love Alistair Begg’s quote: “The main things are the plain things, and the plain things are the main things.” We shouldn’t have to look far and deep to at least find the way of God’s communication with us. The obvious way is probably the right one. And yet it’s only natural that we chase all over creation finding any other way we can. The first lie the deceiver gave to us is the one he’s still trying to push – “Did God really say that?” Think about it. The best way to throw the world into confusion about God would be to call into question any truth he reveals about himself.
And it’s really no wonder. Because the Bible says a lot of things about we, the people, that make us feel quite uncomfortable. So naturally we could expect some of us to say, “well, that’s just a book written by a bunch of men” rather than maybe admitting that it was breathed out by the one who knows us more intimately than we know ourselves.
I mean, it’s bad enough that the Bible tells us we’re by nature, sinners. But to suggest that we are irredeemable by our own efforts? That we rely upon the very God we reject in order to bring us out of the mess that we are? This is anathema to the self-help, self-love, self-exaltation set. So of course we’re going to say, “Well, my god would never….” Because, you’re right. “Your” god would never, because your god does not exist. He (or she) is just a figment of your self-centered, self-interested imagination. And how do you get away with it? By rejecting that your god would also reveal himself to you in a way that is inconvenient to your way of seeing things; and that in the plain black and white print of a book that, if read and reflected upon, condemns your precious view of yourself and lays out a truth that you absolutely hate.
We miss a lot with picking and choosing. Like what to do with this gem:
“For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth. For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse. For although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened. Claiming to be wise, they became fools, and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images resembling mortal man and birds and animals and creeping things.”
Romans 1: 18-23
Or this one just a couple of lines later:
“And since they did not see fit to acknowledge God, God gave them up to a debased mind to do what ought not to be done. They were filled with all manner of unrighteousness, evil, covetousness, malice. They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, maliciousness. They are gossips, slanderers, haters of God, insolent, haughty, boastful, inventors of evil, disobedient to parents, foolish, faithless, heartless, ruthless. Though they know God’s righteous decree that those who practice such things deserve to die, they not only do them but give approval to those who practice them.”
Romans 1:28-32
If you’re willing to give yourself a pass on them – if you want to discount these words as the ancient ravings of a religious zealot who knows nothing of our 21st century lives – then what kind of god are you serving (or should I say, “is serving you”)? A god of your own making? If your god could be as varied as the gods that could be dreamed up by any of the other 7-plus-billion inhabitants of the planet, then what purpose does he serve but to assuage the stirrings of your own conscience?
What kind of God would God be if he was beholden to the whims of those he created — if what we say defines him, rather than what he says about himself? But then, too, what kind of God would not give us the words that define him, and do it in a way that is open and clear to the people of the world?
Like most people, I work within a set of rules, and like most people who’ve been doing a job for a long time, the temptation might be there to just do what works. Most times, it fits the rules. But sometimes it cuts a corner. The thing is, the rules serve as the standard for how it’s supposed to be done. And you’ll find that, after a few years of cutting the corners and ignoring parts of the rules, you’ll forget what the standard even was in the first place. You get lazy. Unless someone calls you on it.
Here’s the thing about the Bible. It’s solid. It’s there. It’s been around for at least a couple thousand years and has faced immeasurable scrutiny through it all. It’s a reference to which you can turn. My “rules” analogy is imperfect in that the Bible stays solid (rules might get rewritten every few years). Of course it comes under attack. Like I said, the first lie of the devil was to ask if God really said what he said. But in the end, the Bible is something to which we can turn.
I’m rereading a pretty good book by Jonathan Fisk called Broken: 7 “Christian” Rules That Every Christian Ought to Break. The first rule he mentions deals with “mysticism,” which tells you to seek God through your feelings – your emotions, your experiences. It’s got you in the church, but it’s really only got you there because the music makes you feel alive. Or maybe you enjoy the fellowship and friendship. Or the events. Maybe even the Bible studies and Sunday Schools (that become more a source of coffee and donuts with the boys than a digging into the subject matter).
And mysticism always wants to lead us to the next best thing, because the feelings never last. We’re fickle that way. But if we’ve built the structure of our faith on the foundation of what God has actually said, we can live through those ups and downs. There’s a popular passage in the Bible (in Paul’s letter to the Romans) that most people think only says “God works for the good of those who love him.” But they miss the beginning of that verse, and it’s just as important. The beginning says “And we know…” We know that God works for our good. Even when it all seems screwed up.
Now, imagine we’re just in the church for the music and the uplifting feeling when we’re there. But when we walk out the doors, how long does it take before the feeling fades? Sometimes we don’t even make it out of the parking lot. And if not that early, at least think of how many times you’ve heard the words, “I hate Mondays.”
But if we know that God works for the good of those who love him and are called according to his purpose, can we survive our feelings? Any reasonable person would. As hard as it can be sometimes, the one who knows God is there and working for them – not just when they’re feeling good in a church service, but all of the time – is going to be the one who stays strong in their faith through it all.
And how do we know? Because God has assured us. And how has he assured us? He told us.
And where did he tell us?