Fearless Faith

[The body of this article was first shared some fifteen years ago, and it continues to generate robust conversation whenever the topic arises. We have ceremonies to properly dispose of worn flags. Might there be something similar for old Bibles? Oh well, into the abyss once more!]

Nearly every family has them and doesn’t know what to do with them. Should they keep them, throw them out, recycle them or (gasp) burn them with the other paper trash? “They” are the Bibles of generations, some torn, others already in pieces, covers and plates marred and scratched, and never used modernly as a practical scriptural resource. A few have genealogical information written into the front or back sections. Others make for interesting browsing when past readers have written notes in the margins or highlighted their favorite scripture in various ways. All of them, however, are accompanied by a certain supernatural fearfulness surrounding their disposition. The word of God in a landfill? Better to store it for decades on a moldy shelf in the basement or squirrel it away in an attic so that future generations are left to contend with it. Just don’t put me on the spot to make the decision.

Let’s get real. The paper and bindings that constitute the Bible are no more than that. The scriptural word and content, if physically and practically unusable due to age, size, readability or other condition, become useless artifacts of religiosity. Why then allow it to clutter up our already cluttered spaces? We get rid of other of life’s encumbrances, why not these? Because, somewhere, deep within ourselves we know that ultimate spiritual truth does not come easily or lightly. Could it be the act of discarding a worn out Bible is a metaphor for our struggles to understand God? Dare we risk discarding the very basis of our spiritual humanity?

Like some well-loved hand tools in the shop that have just the right touch or curve or feel in the hand, I have my favorite Bible resources and versions, ones which are the right size to travel with, to study with, to develop sermons from. Some are annotated, some are plain. Others provide valuable commentary or paraphrase difficult renderings. I am open to encountering sources that are new to me, but I seriously question whether my preferences will ever include a 20-pound family Bible that is more suitable as a paver than a reading resource.

As outward signs of inward grace, tools, such as the Bible, direct us towards greater understandings of the Holy Spirit in our lives. Various sacraments which inhabit our religious environment direct our thinking but are not an end unto themselves. When the words of scripture are lifted from the page and placed within reach of our soul’s longing, then the Word becomes real and holy and sacred.

Whoever catches a glimpse of the revealed counsel of God – the free life! – even out of the corner of his eye, and sticks with it, is no distracted scatterbrain but a man or woman of action. That person will find delight and affirmation in the action. (James 2:25, MSG).

Treasure the Word from the pages of your most well-worn and comfortable Bible, and then carry out what I intend to do with my old unused irreparable volumes. Cut the spines off and, without guilt, recycle them as part of caring for creation. If you need to bolster your resolve, I’m prepared to help. And, please, disregard whatever you may happen to see on the storage shelves in my basement!