I have a confession: after reading Jesus, Interrupted, I fell off the wagon. I stopped reading my Bible, my interest in my spiritual journey waned, and while I don’t like to admit this, I stopped listening in church. I don’t mean that I occasionally wandered off during the announcements or the doxology; I mean my mind was officially closed for business. Admittedly, this book was a shock – all of the presuppositions I had made were shattered and all of those warm fuzzies which come from feeling connected to something greater felt dumb. Needless to say, my last blog entry was a quick spiral into confusion and anger – I let this live with me until this past Saturday, when I had the crazy notion to buy some new books. Having gained a sense of understanding from Lee Strobel’s The Case for Faith, I reached for The Case for the Real Jesus – interestingly, and unbeknownst to me when I purchased it, this book seems to be a response to Bart Ehrman’s earlier Misquoting Jesus, and the book I read, Jesus, Interrupted, seems to be a response to The Case for the Real Jesus. It appears that textual critics (read: radical liberals) and apologists (read: fundamental conservatives) are playing a game of literary footsy.
A sense of relief washed over me as I was reading the other side to Ehrman’s arguments, which seem to stem from a mostly historical/academic perspective, while Strobel leans more on the faith/emotion side - after all, there are always two sides to everything. Still, both of them are effective – I was so quickly put off by Ehrman’s assertions and so quickly relieved by Strobel’s that really both men should win some sort of prize in psychological debate.
It occurred to me this morning that all of this comes back to faith – it truly is a mystery. One minute it’s burning brightly and the next you’ve lost it. In fact, this is what I feel like I experienced over the past few weeks – a discovery of new information, a saddening disappointment and finally a rebellion of the heart. It took me three weeks and time spent reading Christian literature to bounce back. Perhaps I handled this the wrong way. Steven Covey asserts that every time we experience something, there is a crucial moment where we choose our reaction – in other words, we can never fully blame anyone but ourselves for most consequences. In practice, we must all be disciplined enough to pause during this time, consider the options, weigh them carefully, and finally proceed – taking control of our actions and our situations.
I clearly took a wrong turn a few weeks ago. I took my toys and I went home – far away from God. I wonder now what would have happened, or rather if my personal crisis could have been averted had I put down the book, closed my eyes and prayed with all my might for understanding, for clarity, for the ability to discern between truth and conjecture. I am nearly convinced that the past few weeks would have been much more spiritually engaging than disappointing. And that’s the real point, isn’t it? Don’t run to literature, blogs or pastors – run to God. Someone summarized this as saying:
“There is a way of reading the Bible that seems to leave God far away, off in the shadows somewhere. It is all information and technicalities and knowledge, but it feels like you're sitting with your back towards God. You come up against a difficulty or question, and you go to books, you ask pastors, friends, strangers on the internet, anyone but Him. Gradually God gets smaller and dimmer.”
It’s amazing how easy it is to sit with your back against God. Instead, in light of discovery, academia, radical or conservative ideas, first and foremost give yourself to God – hand yourself over. Tricky isn’t it, how something that sounds so amazing is so difficult to do? We’re promised only good things, yet we fight and fight and fight. Have faith! And while you’re having faith, have a relationship with God – a quote from C.S. Lewis brought tears to my eyes last night as I was finishing the book:
“The Christian way is different: harder, and easier. Christ says, “Give me All. I don’t want so much of your time and so much of your money and so much of your work: I want You. I have not come to torment your natural self, but to kill it. No half-measures are any good…Hand over the whole natural self, all the desires which you think innocent as well as the ones you think wicked – the whole outfit. I will give you a new self instead. In fact, I will give you Myself: my own shall become yours.”
In retrospect, I’m so glad I read both books – I don’t know which one is “correct” but I’ve concluded that I don’t care. This will undoubtedly relieve my husband, as I know that my spiritual warfare has been worrying him. But since beginning this process, this has been the most important lesson I’ve learned: it’s about a relationship with God. Everything else is background noise compared to that. Leave it all behind – “Come, follow me.”
This morning I opened by Bible, after having it closed for weeks, and came to one of my favorite passages from Romans 8:
“No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
