Sola Fide (Part II): Exile on Main St.

When I had a simple faith, faith seemed simple.

We live by faith, not by sight.
- 2 Corinthians 5:7

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.
- Hebrews 11:1

Trust God. Believe in what you hope for. No matter what happens, everything's gonna be all right. Just have faith. It's simple.

I knew these verses by heart, but not by mind. As I grew older, and my melancholy personality began to emerge more fully, I started to question faith. Not my faith in God (I've never really doubted His existence), but faith itself.

When I was a kid, I thought that if I really, truly believed I could fly, I would. I threw myself from countless backyard precipices, expecting to wow my friends with the best Peter Pan impression they'd ever seen, but I fell to the ground every time. After college, I trusted that God would immediately reward my hard work with a fulfilling position in full-time ministry that would provide a comfortable living for my family. Instead, I ended up working multiple minimum and near-minimum wage jobs for two years while I waited on the Lord and battled feelings of doubt and insignificance. I hoped and prayed that my uncle (who was probably the closest thing I ever had to a big brother) would survive his cancer, but he didn't. Apparently this faith stuff doesn't work out so well.

But it's not that simple. God never promised a happy ending to our circumstances. In fact, He promised the opposite:

In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.
- Jesus, John 16:33b

Sometimes church people like to gloss over the issue of pain, but the Bible sure doesn't. For crying out loud (literally), read Job, Lamentations, Psalms, or New Testament martyr stories, and you'll find pain in bulk. Jesus knew it would be tempting to lose heart in these kinds of circumstances. He does offer hope, but that hope comes from beyond our earthly experience.

Contrary to my casual interpretation of Hebrews 11:1, Christian faith is not being sure of whatever we might hope for. The rest of chapter 11 goes on to describe several Old Testament heroes of strong faith, many of whom never received any kind of earthly reward (verse 13b). There were some:

who through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, and gained what was promised; who shut the mouths of lions, quenched the fury of the flames, and escaped the edge of the sword; whose weakness was turned to strength; and who became powerful in battle and routed foreign armies.
(verses 33-34)

and:

others who were tortured, refusing to be released so that they might gain an even better resurrection. Some faced jeers and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. They were put to death by stoning; they were sawed in two; they were killed by the sword. They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted and mistreated— the world was not worthy of them. They wandered in deserts and mountains, living in caves and in holes in the ground.
(verses 35b-38)

This is reality. Not all gloom and doom, not all flowers and sunshine. The commonality is faith. Faith in what? Read verses 13-16:

All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.

Christian faith is being sure of the hope we have for a better country - a country we cannot and will not see or understand in this lifetime, but one we can be certain of nonetheless. Faith is being homesick for a place we've never been. C.S. Lewis wrote a great deal about this longing, which he called "joy".

In a sense the central story of my life is about nothing else... it is that of an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any satisfaction. I call it Joy, which is here a technical term and must be sharply distinguished both from Happiness and from Pleasure. Joy (in my sense) has indeed one characteristic, and one only, in common with them; the fact that anyone who has experienced it will want it again. Apart from that and considered only in its quality, it might almost equally be called a particular kind of unhappiness or grief. But then it is a kind we want.
- Lewis, Surprised by Joy

I remember feeling this the first time I read Lewis' own Narnia stories. I wanted to go there so badly, I actually tried the spell that takes Eustace and Jill to Narnia in The Silver Chair. Sometimes a particular song, place, thought, or memory still brings that kind of ambiguous longing to my heart. And it took me a long time to realize it was God.

Faith is fundamentally mingled with this longing and dissatisfaction (and maybe that's why suffering actually tends to strengthen faith). It's true that Scripture encourages us to "be content in any and every situation" (Philippians 4:12), but contentment and satisfaction aren't the same thing. It might even be that knowing we can never be truly satisfied in this life is precisely the perspective that allows us to accept our circumstances. It's an opti-pessimism.

If you've been around church for very long, you've probably heard it said that everyone has a God-shaped hole in their heart that can only be filled by asking Jesus to be your Savior. I have a problem with that. I mean, I accepted Christ a long time ago, but I still feel empty sometimes. I think Jesus partially fills that hole, but He leaves us an IOU for the rest. He broke our chains, but we still have to stay in the cave for a while. Take a look at that "live by faith, not by sight" verse in context:

For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed instead with our heavenly dwelling, because when we are clothed, we will not be found naked. For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed instead with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. Now the one who has fashioned us for this very purpose is God, who has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come. Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord. For we live by faith, not by sight.
- 2 Corinthians 5:1-7

There's still some emptiness. There's still some mystery. But we wait by faith, knowing that we are indeed homeward bound.

The Bible is full of exile language - but if we mistake faith for earthly optimism, we may feel guilty when we groan. Groaning is good. It's a sign of the IOU, the deposit, the very Spirit of God living within us. It's a sign that we're looking toward the cavern's exit.

Remember your failure at the cave!
- Yoda, The Empire Strikes Back

Why is faith so hard? You would think now that we can finally move our necks, we would never look away from the mouth of the cave - where daylight shines and distant images of life outside can sometimes be glimpsed. But the shadows are mesmerizing. They're right in front of us. We're used to them. It's hard not to look at them.

A few months ago, I realized that I had been staring at the shadows for a long time. My mind was filled mostly with earthly things. It had been weeks since I had read my Bible or had a meaningful prayer time. When we weren't watching TV, my interactions with my wife were mostly informational. Even things like TV, music, and books had lost their meaning. I didn't really enjoy things like that, I just used them as a way to get my mind off of work. The Lord sent us a beautiful snow, and all I could think about was what kinds of problems it was going to cause me the next day. I had lost my Joy (for a full confession, see Part I).

Thankfully, the Spirit convicted me of my blindness, and I have been trying to be more faith-full. How? Well, I try to focus my attention on things of heavenly nature. I pay more attention to natural beauty. I pay more attention to my daughter. I try to treat my wife more like a girlfriend than a business partner. I've been reading more and listening to audiobooks at work. This isn't necessarily a new habit, but I've tried to stop thinking of it as an accomplishment ("I can cross that one off the checklist") or a coping mechanism ("What book should I listen to to get me through the day?"), and start reading for the simple pleasure of reading. That goes for the Bible too. I used to read it because that's what good Christians "have" to do. Now I try to read it because it brings me closer to the Father I love. I pray about more than my "daily bread". And sometimes, when my heart feels particularly weighed down by the world, I might sing a few longing lines of an old hymn or two:

"Some glad morning, when this life is o'er, I'll fly away."

"I heard about a mansion He has built for me in Glory."

"There's a better home a'waiting in the sky Lord, in the sky."

"And someday yonder, we'll never more wander, but walk the streets that are purest gold."

"There'll be no sorrow there, no more burdens to bear."

"Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight, the clouds be rolled back as a scroll."

"Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail, and mortal life shall cease, I shall possess within the veil a life of joy and peace."

You don't hear lyrics like that much anymore. In fact, you don't really hear that much homesickness in church at all. We've been laser-focused on our mission in recent years, and I'm not saying that's not an improvement on the somewhat isolated nature of "old time religion", but in the process, I think we may have grown a little too comfortable in exile. Yes, we have a very important mission while we're here. But don't forget - we're missionaries. We're from another country.

Someday She'll Turn Three

This is a story my wife and I wrote for our daughter last night. It will be better after Beth illustrates it, but I thought I'd go ahead and share it.


Someday She'll Turn Three

Today is Mollie’s birthday. Today will be a lot of fun. Today is a very special day.
But someday… someday…

Someday Mollie might ride a unicorn from California to New York.
But today, she’s riding Daddy from the living room to the kitchen to the living room to the kitchen…

Someday she might travel the solar system to search for life on Mars, hula-hoop with Saturn’s rings, and bring back a moon rock.
But today, she’s in the back yard watching birds, chasing dogs, and stealing rocks from the neighbors’ driveway.

Someday she might meet the president and help him with his homework.
But today, she’s having a one-way conversation with an ant.

Someday she might own a candy factory, and make a lollipop so big that it would block the sun.
But today, Papaw is her candy factory.

Someday she might be a world-famous chef with restaurants in Spain, Italy, and France.
But today, she’s eating ketchup with a French-fry spoon.

Someday she might finally discover a cure for the common cold.
But today, band-aids and Mommy’s kisses make everything better.

Someday she might design fancy dresses for all the big movie stars.
But today, she’s partial to her birthday suit.

Someday millions of people might come to watch her sing and dance on Broadway.
But today, her head, shoulders, knees, and toes are all performing for Mommy and Daddy.

Someday… Someday…

Someday she’ll have to memorize lots of facts and formulas, and she’ll probably get straight A’s.
But today, she knows her alphabet and can count from one to seven.

Someday she’ll wear a white dress and a pretty wedding ring. He’ll be a lucky guy.
But today, Prince Charming is a character in her storybooks.

Someday she’ll rock her little baby to sleep while she sings a lullaby.
But today, she says “night night” to her dolls and bears and makes snoring sounds for them.

Someday she’ll turn three. Someday she’ll turn five. Someday she’ll turn ten and twenty and thirty.
But today, she’s turning two.

Today will be a lot of fun. Today we’ll have cake and ice cream, we’ll sing “Happy Birthday”, and we’ll open presents. Today is a very special day.

Sola Fide (Part I): Plato's Cave Revisited

(This one goes out to you, Dad.)

As He went along, He saw a man blind from birth.
- John 1:9

I was a boy when He came for me. I can still recall that moment:

I felt someone touch my arm - a sensation I had never known. It startled me. He whispered something in my ear. They were the clearest words I had ever heard. I couldn't understand them, but I knew they were meant to comfort me. I felt something fall from my wrists, then from my ankles and neck. I was consumed with a sense of relief, as if my body had been strangely lightened. My neck bent downward, and I beheld my own body for the first time. At my feet lay the iron shackles that had bound me. With great effort, I raised my head to look upon the Man who had broken them. His body was similar to mine, only much larger and thicker; and He was bleeding. Then I looked into His face. Our eyes met, and in an instant I knew the meaning of kindness and goodness. He took hold of my hand and helped me to my feet.

I looked around and began to observe the true nature of my surroundings. I had been chained to the wall of a cave. There was a great fire in the middle of the chamber, and there were men working, carrying strange objects, casting moving shadows on the wall. I realized with astonishment that these same shadows and the muffled voices of the workers had composed my entire reality not an hour before!

My Liberator led me (carried me, really) slowly out of the cave. The sun was blindingly bright, but its soothing warmth soon made me forget the pain it brought to my eyes. We came to what must have been a river, and my Liberator began to bathe me in it. I felt the cool water wash away years of filth from my body. I cannot remember how long I lay in the river, but when He brought me out, I felt as if I had been reborn.

My Liberator spoke to me gently. He lifted me up, and we started to move. He must have carried me for miles. As He walked, I fell into a peaceful sleep.

When I awoke, I was in an enormous bed, engulfed in soft blankets. I opened my eyes and found that my blindness had passed. The room I occupied was warmed by a small fireplace. There was a plate of hot food next to the bed. It smelled wonderful. After a few moments, the dark wooden door began to open. A Man stepped in, and I recognized the face of my Liberator, whose eyes still spoke perfect kindness.

During the days and weeks that followed, my Liberator and the others that lived with Him began teaching me how to properly use my muscles and my mind. In time, I learned many things. I learned that the Man who broke my chains was a great King, but that I was to call Him Father. I learned that the others who lived there had also been rescued from the caves by my Father. They are my brothers and my sisters.

Once my legs gained their proper strength, my Father began taking me on long walks through the countryside. He introduced me to waters, rocks, plants, animals - all the wonderful things I never knew when my world was full of shadows. He watched lovingly as I reveled in new experiences: climbing trees, swimming, and running through the grass. He asked me questions and listened intently to my thoughts and feelings. He even let me ask Him questions, and He answered many of them! We loved our walks very much.

One day, after I had learned to read, my Father brought me into an enormous room He called the Library. The walls were completely covered with books, and I was surprised to find a deep desire within myself to read all of them.

"Most of these books were written by one of your brothers or sisters," my Father said, "but this one..." He reached toward a table in the corner and picked up a very thick, very old-looking book with a worn black cover. "This is the one I wrote. It is very special." He handed me the Book and said, "You may read any of these any time you like." Then He smiled and left the room.

I sat down, eagerly opened to the first page of my Father's Book, and read His dedication: "To my children, with love."

After that day, I spent much of my time in the Library, pouring over books of all sorts: history, philosophy, poetry, adventure stories. I especially loved my Father's Book, which seemed to contain absolutely everything. I hardly ever left the Library except to eat, sleep, and, of course, to walk with my Father. I even started to write a book of my own, but I did not get very far.

On my eighteenth birthday, during one of our walks, my Father turned to me and said, "Son, I think it's time for you to start working in the caves."

"What?" I thought, "The caves where I spent my childhood chained to the wall? The caves where my eyes were mercilessly starved for true light and beauty?"

He could see the fear in my eyes. "Yes, son." He spoke with understanding. "There are minerals deep within the caves that must be mined. Many of your brothers have already begun working, and today you are old enough to join them. It needn't be at all like the prison you remember, for you will not be chained, and you may come back to the surface any time you wish. We will still be able to have our daily walks, and..." the corners of His mouth turned slightly upward, and His eyes twinkled as He said, "the mines will provide a comfortable living, should you ever desire to take a wife." I blushed. His smile turned to laughter, that laughter which was always so deep and strong and joyous that no one could help but join Him. "I know you've had your eye on Miss Philea, boy. Don't you try to deny it!"

It was true. I was very much in love with my adopted sister Philea, and if working in the mines meant she and I could start a family of our own, then I was ready to work in the mines!

His face still pinched with laughter, my Father grabbed my hand and said, "You would have My blessing."

I embraced Him and asked, "When do I start?"

"Tomorrow morning."

That was nearly three years ago. Since that time, life has been very different. Mining is hard work, but I feel stronger week by week. I am not deprived of beauty, as I had anticipated. For one thing, there are gorgeous rock formations in the caves that I hadn't noticed on the day of my rescue. I still spend hours in the Library, and I still take regular walks with my Father, although the lack of sunlight makes it difficult to track time, and I have failed to meet Him several times. Philea and I were married shortly after I began mining. We built a small house on our Father's land, and have lost no time in filling it with children. We are very happy.

Although the author is clearly the same, the strained pen and change in tone indicate a later date of composition for the following:

Cruel Time has worn on. I hate the caves. They are dark, cold, and putrid. The work is relentless. In the morning, my heart is heavy with dread over the task that lies before me. In the evening, it is heavy with guilt over the task left unfinished.

I have tried to find comfort in my family, but even when I am home, my mind constantly wanders back to those dank and dreary caverns. I have tried to ignore the work. I have even brought books from the Library down to the caves with me, but I cannot read very well in the dim light, and it brings me no pleasure. I hardly read my Father's Book at all. In fact, I hardly speak to Him. I am doing the work He sent me to do, after all! Am I angry at Him for sending me back to the caves? I do not know. I am conscious of very little, save for the endless clink of pick on rock.

The journey between the caves and my home is at least an hour's walk. I must endure the rough, monotonous terrain twice a day - through rain and wind, through extreme cold and heat. How I loathe it. Some nights I have slept in the caves in order to avoid the next day's journey. This preserves time and physical energy, but being absent from my family is difficult.

I have decided to move them tomorrow. I plan to pitch a tent near the cavern's mouth where they can be comfortable, but where I may remain close to my work in the mines. I hope it will prove beneficial.

Thus ends the diary of my brother Desmios. It was found in the home he and Philea once shared, covered in dust and cobwebs. Our Father is still searching for Philea and the children, but Desmios we found, deep in the caves. We tried to bring him out, but he would not be stirred. He sat there stupefied, entranced - staring at the shadows on the wall.

Solus Christus

It's date night. The Husband, fully ready to go, reclines on the bed as He waits on His wife. An intentionally audible (and all too familiar) sigh comes from the bathroom.

Jesus: What's the matter?

Church: I look horrible.

Jesus: No, you don't.

Church: Whatever. I wear this stupid shirt all the time, even though it makes me look like a cow, my hair won't do anything I want it to, my eyebrows are bushy, my arm fat is jiggling, my skin looks too pale, and don't even tell me you haven't noticed these laugh lines and gray hairs that have been popping up lately. (sighs again) I need new makeup.

Jesus: (gets up and puts His hands on His wife's shoulders) You're beautiful.

Church: Of course You think so. You're my Husband. But You're the only one.

Jesus: Aren't I the only one that matters?

Church: Yes, but...

Jesus: But what?

Church: (choking on her words as she begins to cry) People hate me. I hear them: "Jesus is a cool Guy, but I just can't stand that wife of His."

Jesus: Who says stuff like that?

Church: Everyone.

Jesus: You're exaggerating. Besides, if anyone has a problem with you, they've got a problem with Me, and if that's their attitude, they're missing out on knowing a great couple. Listen, I love you. You're smart, gorgeous, and fun to be with. You're...

Church: I guess I should just stop trying then, huh? I'll stop shaving my legs, quit exercising, start eating whatever I want - maybe I should even take up smoking.

Jesus: Look, I want you to take care of yourself. I want you to live a long, healthy life with Me. And it does make Me feel good when you dress up for Me and do special things to show how much you love Me. But keep it about Me. My love for you is and always will be unconditional. Don't worry about what other people think. Please. I just hate seeing you beat yourself up.

Church: (with tears in her eyes, she turns around, hugs Jesus around the neck, kisses Him, and whispers) I love You.

Jesus: I know you do, sweetheart. Let's go to dinner. And we can get you new makeup if it'll make you feel better.

Church: (laughs) O.K.

Am I now trying to win the approval of men, or of God? Or am I trying to please men? If I were still trying to please men, I would not be a servant of Christ.
- Galatians 1:10

Personal note:

When I conceptualized this little dialogue, I intended it to be simply an exploration of some feelings I've been having over the last few years regarding the Church and her self-esteem. A postmodern world has shown us its contempt, and we have listened. We have tried our hardest to make ourselves more appealing. We have improved in some areas and compromised in others. I do not think we should abandon all efforts to grow along with the times in our methods and styles, but I do think that in many cases our attitudes and priorities have been screwed up.

I've had trouble explaining exactly what it is about all this that bothers me, but I think that this marriage example has helped. It has also challenged me. I know I have been part of the problem. Only instead of saying, "We're not pretty enough," I've criticized our body saying things like, "Our self-esteem is so low and our need for popularity so pathetic, it's no wonder people see us as inferior." God has shown me that in this area, I too have been staring at the Church's mirror instead of her Husband. I have also been less than understanding. When my wife "needs" something I consider impractical or unnecessary, I still try to get it for her if I can afford it. Why am I less generous when it comes to church? If the Church decides she wants drastic, possibly dangerous plastic surgery, I will try to stop her from going through with it. But in less extreme situations, I may need to learn to graciously say, "We can get you new makeup if it will make you feel better."


Lord, let us not be so concerned with what others say or with how we feel about our body that we forget Who our Date is.

Amen.

Sola Scriptura

Ivory Tower Ivan:
"An understanding of the Christian God is vastly multifaceted. One must consider not only theology proper, but also Christology, pneumatology, hamartiology, soteriology, bibliology, ecclesiology, and eschatology, along with many so-called "secular" philosophies pertaining to metaphysics, epistemology, and ethics. Is our reasoning about God deductive or empirical? Is truth objective or subjective? Can we truly know of God, and if so, how? Plato, Aristotle, Augustine, Aquinas, Luther, Kierkegaard, Zwingli, Calvin, Wesley... There are many various intellectual aspects of what we call faith, and one must consult the wisdom of many great thinkers if one is to come to a solid conclusion regarding his or her beliefs on the matter."


Seeker-sensitive Steve:
"Christianity is dying. We're so stuck in the old way of doing things that we've failed to fulfill our primary mission: cultural relevancy. If Jesus were here today, He wouldn't be sitting in some drafty fellowship hall eating casserole and talking about the weather. He'd be walking the street, soaking up the culture, finding out what people need. People today don't want religion; they want community. They don't need to be preached at; they need a place where everyone is accepted. They need dynamic, engaging worship they can relate to. They need media-driven messages and attractive facilities. They need a place to hang out, be authentic, and do life together. Christians need to wake up and follow the successful principles of great leaders like Rick Warren and Bill Hybels. If we don't implement relevant, accessible, five-step thinking into our lives and ministries, we might as well give up now."


Emergent Emily:
"We’re all on a journey. We live, we love, we hurt, we question. We wonder about this thing called God, but the rigid, dogmatic, religious organization known as 'the Church' has made Him into an angry tyrant. But it doesn’t have to be that way. God does not fit into a religious cookie cutter. He is by nature mysterious, and each of us journeys through that mystery in our own way. We struggle, we seek, we serve humanity. We read God’s story for inspiration. We experience spirituality through the arts. We explore the wisdom of Brian McLaren, Rob Bell, Erwin McManus, Spencer Burke, and others. We blog on The Ooze. We dialogue over coffee or a Guinness. And whether we believe the rabbi Jesus was a son of God or not, we follow his journey of love, acceptance, and social change as we strive to care for our Earth and her people. And that’s really what we’re here for. It’s not about some magical destination called 'heaven'. It’s about the journey."


Jehovah God:

“See to it that no one takes you captive through philosophy and empty deception, according to the tradition of men, according to the elementary principles of the world, rather than according to Christ” (Colossians 2:8).

“You invalidated the word of God for the sake of your tradition. You hypocrites, rightly did Isaiah prophesy of you, saying, 'This people honors Me with their lips, but their heart is far away from Me. But in vain do they worship Me, teaching as doctrines the precepts of men'" (Matthew 15:6b-9).

“And regard the patience of our Lord to be salvation; just as also our beloved brother Paul, according to the wisdom given him, wrote to you, as also in all his letters, speaking in them of these things, in which are some things hard to understand, which the untaught and unstable distort, as they do also the rest of the Scriptures, to their own destruction” (2 Peter 3:15-16).

“Remind them of these things, and solemnly charge them in the presence of God not to wrangle about words, which is useless, and leads to the ruin of the hearers. Be diligent to present yourself approved to God as a workman who does not need to be ashamed, handling accurately the word of truth. But avoid worldly and empty chatter, for it will lead to further ungodliness, and their talk will spread like gangrene” (2 Timothy 2:14-17b).

“And so we have the prophetic word made more sure, to which you do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star arises in your hearts. But know this first of all, that no prophecy of Scripture is a matter of one's own interpretation, for no prophecy was ever made by an act of human will, but men moved by the Holy Spirit spoke from God” (2 Peter 1:19-21).

“Every word of God is tested; He is a shield to those who take refuge in Him. Do not add to His words lest He reprove you, and you be proved a liar” (Proverbs 30:5-6).

“I testify to everyone who hears the words of the prophecy of this book: if anyone adds to them, God shall add to him the plagues which are written in this book; and if anyone takes away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God shall take away his part from the tree of life and from the holy city, which are written in this book” (Revelation 22:18-19).

“And indeed, all who desire to live godly in Christ Jesus will be persecuted. But evil men and impostors will proceed from bad to worse, deceiving and being deceived. You, however, continue in the things you have learned and become convinced of, knowing from whom you have learned them; and that from childhood you have known the sacred writings which are able to give you the wisdom that leads to salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus. All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness; that the man of God may be adequate, equipped for every good work” (2 Timothy 3:12-17).

“Now these were more noble-minded than those in Thessalonica, for they received the word with great eagerness, examining the Scriptures daily, to see whether these things were so” (Acts 17:11).

“But we have renounced the things hidden because of shame, not walking in craftiness or adulterating the word of God, but by the manifestation of truth commending ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God” (2 Corinthians 4:2).

“Sanctify them in the truth; Thy word is truth” (John 17:17).

“Heaven and earth will pass away, but My words shall not pass away” (Matthew 24:35).

“Let the word of Christ richly dwell within you, with all wisdom teaching and admonishing one another with Psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with thankfulness in your hearts to God” (Colossians 2:16).

“I shall delight in Thy statutes; I shall not forget Thy word...
Open my eyes, that I may behold wonderful things from Thy law...
Thy testimonies also are my delight; They are my counselors...
I have chosen the faithful way; I have placed Thine ordinances before me...
Make me walk in the path of Thy commandments, for I delight in it...
Turn away my eyes from looking at vanity, and revive me in Thy ways...
I will also speak of Thy testimonies before kings, and shall not be ashamed. And I shall delight in Thy commandments, which I love...
I have remembered Thine ordinances from of old, O Lord, and comfort myself...
Forever, O Lord, Thy word is settled in heaven...
I have more insight than all my teachers, for Thy testimonies are my meditation. I understand more than the aged, because I have observed Thy precepts...
From Thy precepts I get understanding; therefore I hate every false way...
Thou hast rejected all those who wander from Thy statutes, for their deceitfulness is useless...
The unfolding of Thy words gives light; it gives understanding to the simple...
Of old I have known from Thy testimonies, that Thou hast founded them forever” (Psalm 119:16,18, 24,30,35, 37, 46-47, 52, 89, 99-100, 104, 118, 130, 152).


Voices. Too many voices. The Bride of Christ is schizophrenic.

One book. The Book. A compilation of 66, authored by at least 25, over 2 and a half millennia. One voice. The Voice.

Why are we still talking?