What lies between the strange statement, In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth, and the equally strange cry of longing, Even so, come, Lord Jesus! What is there behind all this, that labors for our expression?
It is a dangerous question. We might do better not to come too near this burning bush. For we are sure to betray what is — behind us! The Bible gives to every man and to every era such answers to their questions as they deserve. We shall always find in it as much as we seek and no more: high and divine content if it is high and divine content we seek; transitory and “historical” content, if it is transitory and “historical” content we seek — nothing whatever, if it is nothing whatever we seek. The hungry are satisfied by it, and to the satisfied it is surfeiting before they have opened it. The question, What is within the Bible? has a mortifying way of converting itself into the opposing question, Well, what are you looking for, and who are you, pray, who make bold to look? - Karl Barth, “The Strange New World Within the Bible”
I always begin a new TV series or a new fiction book, or a new video game with trepidation. It’s not that I fear it will be bad, but I fear that whatever I seek to consume will only consume me. The book will not let me put it down, the video game will not let me turn it off, the TV series will demand my attention until the run time is over. And, when all is done, my mind will remain trapped in the fictional worlds I visited. Like Alan Parrish I will not be able to leave. Or, if I do manage to escape the strange characters, creatures, and settings of that fictional world will run free. Everything that I see becoming colored by what I saw or read, everything a reminder of the time I spent.
But there are few more engrossing works of literature than the Bible. If there were any book to get lost in, any book to eat you and your whole world up, it is this one. When I pick up my Bible I am transported to Ur where Abram hears the call of a strange God calling him to a strange land. I sit with David and his mighty men as they camp in the wilderness, on the run from the manic King Saul. I watch in horror as the forests devour the armies of Israel. I weep with the elderly King David as he cries, “Oh, my son Absalom! Oh, my son! My son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you! Oh, Absalom, my son! My son!”
I walk the paths of Galilee along with Jesus and watch as he heals the blind and lame. I am confounded and enraptured by his parables. I flee with the disciples when he is captured. I shout “crucify him!” with the crowds. I sit in despair at the foot of his cross. I am enraptured by his resurrection.
The Bible is meant to eat us up. Its details are meant to be memorable, its silences are meant to grab hold of us. The Bible seeks to grasp our imagination. That we would understand ourselves to be part of that same story.
The more I read, the more I understand. The more I see. Not just the work of God in the story. But I see the story playing out in my life and in our world. That is why I return again and again and again.