I said this in my Bible class Sunday morning (we’ve been discussing the opening two books of the Bible, Genesis and Exodus):
“The older I get, the less problem I have with the idea of God creating and doing everything in pretty much exactly the way the Bible describes. The reason I think He might well have done it that way is because it makes such a great STORY. His whole plan was for man to take His Name and His Story and His love to every corner of the earth. We remember stories. We like to tell stories. So it makes every kind of sense to me for God to have done things exactly the way scripture describes it, so we can get the Story right.”
I know it’s not scientific. I know the Story doesn’t always fit the quantifiable facts as we understand them.
But, hey, we’re talking about the God who created science and quantifiable fact out of the deep nothingness of nonexistence.
Is the Lord’s arm too short? Is anything impossible for God?
I have said before – and still unwaveringly believe – that the Story of scripture points forward to, directly at, and back toward Jesus Christ. (And, I might add, then it points forward to Him again.) He is the Word, the Story.
Jesus is the One through Whom, by Whom, for Whom all things were made.
Is it any wonder that scripture tells the Story of God and man in a way that culminates in their reconciliation through One Who is both God and man; son of God and son of Man?
So, like Job, I have had to learn to stop denying or even questioning the testimony of scripture when it seems to disagree with what my finite, limited and ultimately microscopic brain has observed as science or verifiable fact.
Scripture is the way God wishes to tell the Story.
It is impossible for Him to lie.
So it is quite possible for it to be divinely accurate as well as poetically perfect.
Because we’re talking about God.
If the writers, anonymous though some might be to us, had wanted to tell it in a different way than God wanted, He could have easily flooded them away, sent fire from heaven to consume them, sent them grazing in the field like a woolly beast or simply dried up their inkwell each time they tried to write fiction.
Instead, I believe God breathed the Story into their hearts. He inspired it. He Spirited it into them, and it refreshed them and gave life to them and excited them, and they respired it as accurately as possible and to every person who would listen.
So to bloody blue blazes with the teachings of men.
To blazes with man’s logic, man’s perception, man’s interpretation, man’s conclusions, man’s doctrine, man’s tests of fellowship, man’s uninspired and breathless and lifeless brain-crap.
It’s all nonsense. Balderdash. Poppycock.
If it doesn’t square with what God says, it’s bunk.
If God says to do something, He knows it’s for our good, and we should do it.
If God says to not do something, He knows it will hurt or kill us and/or others, and we ought to run from it like the gates of hell itself.
If God expresses no opinion, we should ruddy well stop making out like He’s said something approving or condemning by His silence.
If God tells His Story, we should shut up and listen.
It’s His Story. His God-ness and our humanity. His perfection and our fallibility.
And our only hope.