I was eleven years old when I read the Bible for the first time. Straight through. Genesis to Revelation. It took me four months, but I did finish.1 Impressed?
If you raised your hand there are two reasons you should not be impressed. First: There was an ulterior motive. I do not remember why, but I was going to receive credit in school. This was in the small-town south, back in the golden days of yesteryear (circa 1987), so it was not that shocking. Second: I didn’t get it. The Bible, I mean. To be sure, there were plenty of things to capture a young boy’s imagination. It is, after all, filled with sex and violence, magic and miracles, love and sacrifice. But even after the final Amen, I still didn’t understand.
Oh, I understood the concept of salvation well enough to believe that it was something that I needed. But something didn’t quite sit right. It seemed that I had spent four months to get to a point that could be explained in about thirty minutes (depending on the student’s alacrity). There had to be something more. The trick, I determined, was to have someone explain it to you.
I spent the next eight years having the Bible doled out one hour at a time on Sundays. This was much easier. It was the fast-track to a Godly life – give me a bit, hang an amen on it, and let’s-have-lunch-the-Chiefs-kickoff-at-3:15. It was not until college that I really read the Bible again.
I was attending a study group for my New Testament class, when one of the other participants mentioned one of their beliefs. And I didn’t buy it. (I still refer to this belief as the “New Wine Conundrum.”)
Filled with a righteously indignant energy, I rushed back to my room intent on proving him wrong.2 Time and distance cooled my anger. He was not a bad person, just misinformed. Obviously someone had told him wrong. Obviously . . .
My next thought struck hard: If they were told wrong, then how do I know that I was told right? The answer, friends and neighbors, is that I could not know. I had left my beliefs in someone else’s hands. What!?
Naturally, on the revelation score card, John has me beat cold. But for me, it was life altering. The principles which I held dear had been dictated by others. There was no me in it.
I am no honored scholar of religion and I would never suggest that everyone freely interpret the Bible’s scriptures. But I do believe that each of us will be held accountable. When that time comes, it will not suffice to say, “because others told me to do so.” We must perform the religious due diligence. We must all have something of ourselves in what we believe.