By Joe LaGuardia
Some time ago, I wrote a column on the Christian sub-culture (or underworld?) of premium Bibles. In it, I uncovered a whole new community made up of folks who love, review, purchase, swap, and talk Bibles. These are not just any Bibles, mind you–rather, they run the gambit from hand-bound, high-priced Bibles to reviews of Bibles you can get at the Dollar store.
I became ensconced with these videos because I, too, have always loved Bibles. When Cokesbury had a storefront in Atlanta, I would spend hours perusing all of the Bibles, Bible helps, and Bible gadgets (highlighters, rulers, maps, you name it). I did not know that others liked Bibles like I do. You know all of those introductions and translator’s notes that are found in the beginning of Bibles? I read those for fun.
There is, however, a big difference between reviewing and loving Bibles to actually reading the Bible. Smelling the leather of a newly, cracked-open Bible may be therapeutic, but only by reading the Bible–spending time with the Bible, studying God’s Word, listening to the Holy Spirit, and responding to the Spirit–makes any difference. The rest is just for fun.
My friends and I are not alone in this. A recent survey published by the Barna research group shows that the Bible still plays a central role in American households. Nearly half the people in our nation engage the Bible at least four times a year, and a third do so on a weekly basis. Over half of Americans say that the Bible informs their values, and nearly half say that the Bible has transformed their lives or have led to positive outcomes in the spiritual growth.
The Bible is also a way to witness to others: Over 60% of people claim they are interested in what the Bible has to say about current events, God, and about their lives or the lives of those around them. Christians should capitalize on this trend and bring up the Bible in conversation with non-believers–people want to talk about the Bible, wrestle with its content, and inquire about the good, the bad, and the ugly that one might find in its pages.
Christians who study the Bible and communicate its contents can be pivotal in helping people overcome their preconceived notions about Scripture and experience the Bible as the Good News God intended it to be. Christians also have an opportunity to correct the misinformed along the way.
There are times when I ask whether the love of Scripture can go too far. In a recent Youtube video, one of those Bible reviewers expressed their love for their Bible, even going so far as to say that they love their Bible as much as they love Jesus. As Bible-believers, we should never lose sight of what the Bible says about the Word–Jesus is the Word made flesh, and it is Jesus who has authority over us. The Bible, according to the 1963 Baptist Faith and Message, is the record of God’s revelation to us. And, as Arun Gandhi once noted, we who are People of the Book should never place the Book above people.
Our love of Scripture should not be an end to itself, and our study of Scripture should not be for the sake of studying alone, but to draw our hearts towards Jesus, our mind towards the things of the Spirit, and our actions towards helping our neighbors. There is such a thing as “Biblolotry,” and I have seen people who have abused others by taking the Bible out of context or failing to follow the Holy Spirit beyond the pages of scripture.
Barna’s research is a good reminder that we need to engage the Bible: It is good for us, it helps us grow in Christ, and provides the Holy Spirit with an opportunity to shape our values. It can also be a tool to help others experience Christ. We can love our Bibles–we should use them often and know them, inside and out–but our love should never exceed that love we have of the Lord and of the people He has placed in our lives. So read it, then minister; pray, then walk the walk, don’t just talk the talk.
By Joe LaGuardia
Several years ago–has to be nearly a decade by now–the Holy Spirit convicted me that I needed to learn a thing or two about submission and obedience. I had been a Christ-follower for some time, but I have always had a flavor for independence and strong-willed stubbornness.
In fact, I became a Baptist not 10 years earlier precisely because I did not want to answer to a bishop, pope, or diocese bureaucracy. A Baptist minister only answers to his or her congregation, but that’s different: there is a relationship; things are contextual; there is room for understanding and dialogue. Joe LaGuardia was not going to have to explain his philosophy of ministry to some fool who lives tens of hundreds of miles away.
You can see where my problem and attitude can get the best of me here.
So the Holy Spirit convicted me. God was going to bend my will towards His own one way or another, and it was going to be during none other than the season of Lent. I had practiced Lent before, but not as seriously as I should have or could have.
The Holy Spirit showed me the first steps: I felt led to go to a nearby monastery and seek out one of the fathers for spiritual direction. The Holy Spirit did not give me much of anything else, but that’s the marching orders that I got, so I stuck with it.
When I made the appointment, I was assigned to Father Francis once a month. His specialty (and the monks do have specialties) was centering prayer, and he wanted to instruct me on this ancient practice–a time of silence and solitude, of centering, of meeting with God for nothing more than to spend time with my beloved Creator–every time we met.
Father Francis gave me a card with instructions, and for the next four months he instructed me on various ways to pray. I was the one seeking spiritual direction, but I did not get a word in edgewise. Yet, every time I became frustrated with my sessions with the Father, the Holy Spirit jumped in and reminded me why I was meeting in the first place: this was not about me, it was about submission. It was about obedience.
I was to obey all of the instructions that Father Frances gave me with no questions asked.
I did. For the entire season of Lent and throughout that summer, I followed those instructions. I sat in silence and prayer for about 15-20 minutes a day. I practiced saying my “prayer word,” and sought to master the nuances of apophatic prayer (those of you who studied this stuff know what I mean). I did my homework.
I was moved. I was heart-broken (in a good, cathartic way). I was frustrated. I was angry– all of the paradoxical feelings that confront us when we fast and submit to the kind of life in which God makes us step out of the throne of our hearts so that Jesus can take his place as Lord of our lives. This prayer-stuff was hard work.
I say all of that now because those feelings still arise in me every Lent. Although I have done something serious and intentional for the season every year since that time–not to mention writing a dissertation on spiritual disciplines and spiritual direction, of which all of this prayer work and submission had been a part–it is still difficult for me to move over and let God direct my life.
It seems that this season is made more difficult because the Holy Spirit is reviving in me some old wounds that I have not faced in a long time–mostly surrounding some squabbles I had with Baptist clergy several years back.
I won’t bore you with the details, but I am not sure I forgave some fellow pastors who have hurt me during that time. And, apparently, that hurt still abides; so God is bringing me back to the drawing board again–and its about submission. It is always about submission. How else are we to travel through Lent and to the cross of Christ, the very place where we crucify our old selves, false selves, ego, and pride that ensnare us and get in God’s way?
Its a terrible, terrible job (just being honest), but we have to do it.
This year, in order to teach me the full weight of obedience again, God pinned me down on my love for XM radio in the car, to which I’ve subscribed since 2008. As a result, I will be…..(I can’t even write it but I will)……discontinuing….(oooh, ouch!)…..my subscription….(doh!)…..for a time, and that’s the one thing (the Holy Spirit ALWAYS finds the ONE thing!) that I don’t want to let go of most. So that’s that.
Perhaps those old wounds–and that clergy battle from years ago–is merely a scapegoat. I don’t want to cast my love for XM radio at the foot of the cross of Christ, so I’d rather put them there.
So here we go again…