Good morning church family,
When you begin reading a book, do you feel compelled to read its preface and introduction? For the first twenty-two years of my life, almost all my reading, cover to cover, was done as a matter of compulsion and so I must confess to having been annoyed by preliminaries that, in my mind, only served to lengthen my sentence.
Suppose my mom had me read a biography of Golda Meir, for instance, or my dad brought home Heart of Darkness by Conrad or one of my professors assigned a soteriological textbook written by some long-dead theologian – the first thing I would do was flip to the back of the book and find the final page of the final chapter and look at the number. One book’s page tally might come in at 374, another at 212, and perhaps another still might knell out the ghastly figure of 758. Then I, with a sigh of resignation and standing like Sisyphus before his boulder, would lower my shoulder and begin the arduous push up the mountain. To start, I would flip back to the front of the book. Breezing past the title page, copyright page, dedication page, and table of contents, a momentary giddiness would momentarily lighten my mood. But then would come a sudden and steep change in pitch as I turned still another page and found the presence of forwards, prologues, prefaces, and words of introduction. I would instantly become conflicted. “Must I read these?” I’d wonder. “Are these a part of the assignment?” Then I’d glance down to the bottom of the page and see that, instead of Arabic numerals marking the way, there were italicized Roman numerals in their place. “Wait a minute,” I’d bark indignantly, “this introductory stuff doesn’t even count towards my page total?”
More often than not, I wouldn’t consult my mom, dad, teacher, or professor and would just make the executive decision to skip all the prolegomena. I don’t think I read a single preface until I was in my late twenties.
Now, why bore you all with a such a trifling and personal tidbit as this? Well, because I want you to know that major changes of heart often lead to minor changes of manner and behavior. In the first decade of my professional ministry, the Lord performed a miracle in my life; radically transforming my outlook and disposition in regard to scholarship. Where I had once regarded learning as an exercise in winning high marks from instructors, I slowly began to see it as an opportunity for the exchange of knowledge, insight, and ideas – one thinker dialoguing with another. Where I once saw study as an occupational hazard, I instead began to see it as a marvelous perk of the job. And where I had once believed that the Bible could be effectively preached without the use of a reference library, I all of a sudden came under the strong conviction that it most definitely could not. A wonderful and holy fear had seized me. My years-long chafing at having to read books and the idiosyncratic handicaps it created in my approach to learning had greatly hampered my ability to be a good witness for the Lord and an able presenter of the gospel. I had been eager to think and to engage in intellectual conversation but had not been quick to ensure that these conversations were informed by any knowledge, wisdom, or understanding. And thus, my theology and apologetic had been more art than science.
Fast forward to today and my interest in a book’s preface and introduction is so great that I will often read and reread these preliminary texts a number of times throughout my weeks-long study of a particular book. The author’s intent and his hope for the book’s impact on his reader are now things I’m keenly interested in knowing. Think of Christ’s teaching, for example. He almost always included a preface with His parables. Now, without this brief word of introduction, these parables are just interesting little stories; yielding very little benefit to one’s life or soul. But by taking to heart the preface Jesus gives – that in His parable one will find a comparison to Christ’s Kingdom – suddenly a little story can become a key that unlocks the door, a lantern that lights the way through the darkness, or an invitation that leads to salvation itself. There’s so much more to any reading when you’re able to think of it as a conversation and not a chore.
This old hang-up of mine once extended to my reading of the Bible as well. I used to measure out my daily chapters of Scripture reading the same way I might measure out Robitussin, oat bran, or miles on the treadmill. Bible-reading was all “a must” and “an ought-to” and hardly ever a delight. But then I finally read the preface; so to speak. The Lord revealed to me why He’d gone to the trouble of inspiring such a text and why He’d preserved it all these years and arranged for it to be translated into my own language. He’d done all this that I might always be able to dialogue with Him in my reading of it. He was assuring that I might be able to acquire His heart, mind, and perspective. He was telling me that I could be like Him. Well, that didn’t sound like duty, obligation, and religion to me. That sounded a lot more like life and joy!
I now read the Bible like I sit down at the table with family – open and chatty. I now study the Bible like I approach a midsummer blueberry bush – empty mason jar in hand with a heart to harvest. And I now share the Bible like I point out a beautiful sunset on the horizon – eager for others to see what I see.
We’re looking forward to gathering together tomorrow morning and joining with many millions of other believers in hearing what the Spirit has to say to His church. Could we be in every worship service being held in every town, village, city, and hamlet across the globe – I believe we’d find there to be a wonderful symmetry in the word being preached, in the songs being sung, and in the commitments being made; such is the excellence of the Spirit’s administration. It’s going to be so good to be a part of it in the morning! May the Lord, mighty God, bless and continue to keep us!
