First Entry

Hey Shannon, thanks for giving me the idea for starting a blog again.  Well, not the idea.  I've had a passion for writing and I've seen myself as a potential blogger for quite some time.  So failing that, how about giving you credit for some inspiration and a kick start, 'kay?

Anyway, Mitchell, this is dedicated to you, in some capacity.  Obviously, because of the title and stuff.  Brody, Shelby, you too.  I think that between you four, I will tag you every time I write one of these entries and consider you to be my target audience.  Anyone else who reads these is an incidental viewer, but otherwise all of these will be an open letter addressed to you four in particular.  But Mitchell in particular, for the sake of the blog's title.

And why am I writing this, anyway?  What's so important that I have to take my brain and sort it out on this blog like a tangled-up slinky?

Stuff, I guess, because I have thoughts.  Some pretty deep thoughts, too, but I will save those for a different blog, a more formal and ambitious collection.

Lately, I started reading my Bible again.  This wasn't in order to be more holy.  I get sick and tired of people who try to make me feel guilty or less like a Christian for not reading my Bible.  On top of it all, those people who think that they're all that for reading their Bibles?  Can't stan'em.  My reason for creaking that old tome open and thoroughly looking over entire books is the same as it was eight years ago in eighth grade: I feel uneasy, and I need to turn somewhere for peace.  So it's hardly a fruit of joy.

Well, there's another reason.  I tried out the Good News Translation, and I quite like it.  It probably won't be the version that I quote, but it has made reading the Bible easier for me, and I'm making my way through things fairly quickly.  It's good food for thought, and I enjoy trying to take myself out of my usual "Bible mode" and try to imagine what it's actually like to receive these New Testament letters.

Recently, I read a book called Kuyper in America.  It's essentially a collection of all the letters he sent home to his wife while he was touring our country in 1898.  What interests me about it is, looking back, now being more familiar with how people simply sound different in letters, usually much harsher than in real life, it makes me look at the Epistles in a new way.  I'm not sure what I think, though.

Uncomfortable with what I have to say?  Me, too.  I read the Bible, and I have all sorts of crazy ideas.  Only about a tenth of the thoughts I have while reading the Bible ever get communicated to anyone else.

I think something while reading, and I wonder, "Really?"

Then I think, "Maybe I should cross-check this thought with someone else."

And then I think, "Nope.  They will think I'm crazy, at best."

I know at least one person who will play the part of the back seat driver with you while you're reading the Bible.  While reading, you feel moved to come to an observation.  Possibly a daring observation.  The thing is, you have to say it to have any sort of intellectual honestly while engaging in an open dialogue about the Word.  Then that person won't like the direction where he thinks your idea might be going.  Usually, it's because you emphasize Grace a little too much, and they flinch.  They will say something like this:

"Be careful.  People who don't properly understand their Bibles speak heresies.  You wouldn't want to preach a heresy, would you?  That would be very bad, so make sure you're reading you're Bible correctly [like me].  So don't go off having any bright ideas, now.  And meanwhile, I'm just going to make a conciliatory gesture at the end of this [passive aggressive] gentle prod so that you can't accuse me of bullying you."

For Biblicists, it always seems that the burden of proof is never on them.  Everyone else needs to constantly cite specific verses (Which I hate doing, remember?), and somehow it seems okay for them to say whatever they want because everyone is just supposed to know that they love their Bible more than everyone else, and so it goes without saying that everything they preach is scriptural.

That sort of behavior makes me feel unsafe and like an outcast.  Where am I supposed to go when making mistakes?  How do I safely "practice" reading the Bible?  And of course, what if, as it turns out, I do understand my Bible a little more than the next guy, who's judging me and assuming that I "obviously" have no familiarity with the scripture?

Then, of course, this turns into a big contest.  That's about as healthy as drinking a canteen full of sand.

Earlier today, I was thinking of what it would be like to be married.  One of the cool prospects that I liked about that was that, should everything be healthy, I could read the Bible and pop out a crazy idea, not fearing judgment.  I liked that.  I thought, hey, I'd be safe, and more importantly, loved.  As in, real love.  Not the type of love that has all sorts of asterisks, turns into a coach, and tries to improve you.  I mean, steering you in the right direction can be fine and dandy, but ultimately I want to be loved in the sense that I can be real and authentic, and the other person will be real and authentic with me.

Now, in the last hour of the day, I wondered why I should limit this whole Bible thing to only marriage.  Shouldn't I be able to have this relationship with my friends?  Albeit, I should keep that group fairly small.  I've decided you guys are pretty real and authentic, and I enjoy hanging out with you all for its own sake.  And Mitchell, you're family, so what have I to lose?

Sincerely,
John

P.S. That canteen analogy sounds pretty cool.  I think I will incorporate it into one of my future fantasy books.