One of the great joys of a good book is its
ability to thread multiple plots and multiple ideas and multiple messages into
the telling of a "ripping good yarn,? as a Charles Dickens contemporary might
have stated it. Indeed, Dickens has for centuries been known for building
social commentary into his riveting fiction, alternately racing hearts as he
braces minds with the cold water of his condemning word-pictures.
One of the great sorrows of the
Good Book is the inability of most of its readers to notice its' majestic
complexity. No other gathering of
writing is its' equal. Where other books point people to dreamed states or
remind them of humanity's brokenness, Scripture speaks not only to the
brokenness but to its promised Redemption, too; Redemptions played out not only
on the Cross and in Revelation, but in the tiny victories of the two-steps
forward, one-step back servants of God whose best efforts seem never enough but?always
are?enough, because Jesus is always enough.
Like a book written to two audiences, it first warns of impending peril
as our soul faces the judgment of a God so holy that even tiny sins rend the
fabric of Creation. Just when the reader
is deep enough in the story of Israel to know that humans will always rebel
against God and will never live faithfully without a miracle, the Miracle breaks
out in the story of the baby Jesus.
Thereafter, Scripture is a living force, driving the saved soul away
from sin and selfishness, and into the battle to free other souls. It is a tale so powerfully told that only by
not reading it are Christians able to live passive faith-lives; a tale so
powerfully written that only the Biblically illiterate Christian stays stuck in
the mire of his/her own struggles, for Scripture always opens our eyes to those
around us who need?whether that need is Jesus alone?or first to have their
aching hunger salved and their parched lips taste of water so their relentless
focus on need can stop being the blinders that keep them ignorant of the hope
we have in Christ.