God's Scrapbook

I love the Bible—as a literary work and as an instrument of my faith. In it I see much about the one true God. I see his works through the historical books—it lays out his plan and his purpose from the beginning. I see his heart in the voice of the prophets. I see how he responded to the pleas of his people. I love the way he loved them and fought for them and for their love. The uber happily-ever-after ending, and the bad guys get their comeuppance. Yes. Very satisfying indeed.

I have a long history with the Bible, and if you know me at all, you know that exhorting the saints to know it better is my raison d’etre. According to Moses, God’s words are life to us, a sentiment Jesus himself, the Word-Made-Flesh echoed again and again. Unless you “eat his flesh” and internalize the Word of God, you will not have life within you.

The Bible challenges modern saints differently than it did the ancients. Of course it continues to be the best implement in the Spirit’s hands for our good transformation. That aspect has not changed. But there are an awful lot of translations out there nowadays, which does little more than muddy the waters. From literals to paraphrases to chronological to special interests to downright false teaching, bookshelves of believers overflow with (mostly) unread tomes. Too much of a good thing, I think.

I used to get worked up over this, but not anymore. The only “bad” Bible is the one that isn’t read. God doesn’t speak King James English—but then, neither do we. He doesn’t speak ancient Greek or Hebrew either. God speaks truth, and every tongue and tribe knows that language. I prefer to leave it to the Spirit to lead his saints into all of it. Open your Bible and let him read it to you.

Which brings up another point—about the way people use the Bible. I’m talking Christians, pastors or otherwise. They act as if it were a buffet where we are free to pick and choose what we like, doctor it as suits us, and leave the rest aside. This is no way to treat God. Imagine doing that to any other person. We need a better way to think about what God has made known about himself and his ways.

Over the years of my faith, the Bible has taken on different metaphors for me. It started as a “holy” book, too sacred even to touch. Once I started to read it, it seemed like a textbook, full of names and dates and places—not to mention chapter and verse—that needed to be memorized. I had no idea why, but so I was taught and so I behaved.

But the Bible is not a textbook. I found myself interested in the connectedness of stories and events, of words and phrases that appeared in multiple places. I began to mine it for these truths, and at some point I realized it had become a treasure chest, filled with beautiful gems that the Spirit turned into jewelry to delight and adorn me. (Read Ezekiel 16.10-14. He loves doing that for his beloved.)

The Bible came to feel like a house I inhabit. Its books were its rooms, its stories the furniture, its verses the decor. The characters were my family, well the Lord’s family and therefore my own. Every time I “talked” with them, they revealed more details of their encounters with the Lord. As I spent time there, I grew comfortable rearranging things, putting unlikely pieces next to each other. That taught me a lot, and I realized there’s a lot more to what God has said than we get from just reading—or re-reading.

The Bible came to feel like a house I inhabit. Its books were its rooms, its stories the furniture, its verses the decor. The characters were my family, well the Lord’s family and therefore my own. Every time I “talked” with them, they revealed more details of their encounters with the Lord. As I spent time there, I grew comfortable rearranging things, putting unlikely pieces next to each other. That taught me a lot, and I realized there’s a lot more to what God has said than we get from just reading—or re-reading.

Recently, all that has shifted into the simple idea of the Bible as God’s scrapbook. In it he has snapshots and words and memories of who he is and what he has done, complete with space for things he still plans to do. He has pages for his children and the exploits they get up to. Of course the stories are condensed, abbreviated. We learn of Samson, for example, from his miraculous conception, to his tweaking the Philistines, and judging Israel 20 years in Judges 13-16—96 verses. Scrapbook storytelling at its best.

Think about it. God has done far more than could be put into one volume. The writer of Hebrews laments not having enough time to list the ancient saints with their acts of faith. John tells us that the works of Jesus alone while on earth would fill more volumes than the world could contain.

Imagine adding to that every work of Yahweh of old and the works of the Spirit yet to be! Every life that would be saved, every miracle that would happen, every step of faith ever taken by every believer, every act of grace and power that advances the kingdom of God on this earth. The heavens couldn’t contain it either.

So for now, God has given us his scrapbook—a record of what he wants to remember and what he wants to share with those who will take the time. Like any scrapbook, God’s Word highlights significant events—significant to the One whose scrapbook it is.

And really, all the translations and editions of the Bible are like God leaving his scrapbook lying on the coffee table for anyone to pick up. The next time you see a Bible, imagine finding someone’s scrapbook and looking through it. Think what you’d come to know of the person who had made it. That’s what’s on offer when you pick up a Bible. Go further. Imagine sitting down with that person and letting him show you the scrapbook he made. Wouldn’t that be a richer experience?

This is what makes the Bible “better” than other books about God. Of course those have value. Christian books help my faith and draw me deeper into life with Jesus. Still, I can’t help but think of them as other people’s scrapbooks—full of their experience with the Lord. I prefer to see them in light of the One Scrapbook. The experiences they portray and discuss in their own way are included in his. All our experiences are connected. Elijah was a man like us, right? Sit down with him and hear his side of the story.

What I love best about the Bible as God’s scrapbook is that it allows me to get to know him at my own pace and in light of who I am. I’m drawn to its stories, its passages, its themes in my own way but under his skilled guidance. Getting to know him is what it’s all about, after all.

Let me emphasize this in closing. One of my favorite perspectives on the Bible is not a metaphor at all. Knowing the Bible is one thing. Knowing God is another. If your reading doesn’t bring about knowing him, pay attention. Spend your Bible time searching out God’s character and nature. It’s a portrait I could—and will—study endlessly.

How do you view the Bible? How has that changed over time?