Bye-bye Bible

Perhaps we should all be Jedi Knights. Their principle of non-attachment, which is strikingly like the Buddha's attempt to rid himself of earthly desires, is very appealing. "We will have to find out the cause of sorrow and the way to escape from it. The desire for sensual enjoyment and clinging to earthly life is the cause of sorrow. If we can eradicate desire, all sorrows and pains will come to an end." This makes a lot of sense. Actually, it makes perfect sense. He is right. It can be scary admitting Buddha is right, because what if he's right about everything? Well, even in this case, perhaps he is only right insofar as what he says is true. Does that mean his route is the best path to take on the proverbial road to enlightenment? Right now it might appear that way.

You see, I realized recently that I became very attached to something I owned. It's my Bible. Or, was my Bible. (Give me a moment to regain my composure...) I had my NIV study Bible for at least 1000 years, and had grown to be very comfortable with it. Sure, people made fun of my "cheater tabs" (I think because they have not experienced being up front and having to find a verse while keeping everyone waiting, or maybe they had the millimeters of Bible thickness memorized so they could find exact verses on their first open), but I realized how fond I was of this particular Bible when I lost it around Christmas time. I bought a new Bible, but it was so difficult to enjoy because I had not 'tamed' it. Its blank pages stared back at me with naked text I felt ashamed to look at. I missed the flowing blue, yellow, and green tresses of my old Bible.

Then, one glorious Sunday (well not glorious in that I got a $50 parking ticket) Bassam came up to me with a Bible looking strikingly like my old Bible. My heart began to beat like Josh's car on the 417 and I dared not to hope... but then he said it "Keith, is this your Bible?" Oh, that exhilarating moment of truth when I opened the cover and found my name there! But, alas. Here I am, my parking ticket past due (half because of Ottawa's ineptitude and half because of my own) and once again Bibleless. Well, okay, I still have my backup copy, but it isn't the same.

Let me retrace my steps.  This past Sunday Christian and Graeme decided to toilet paper my car. I was tipped off however, and ran out to catch them in the act. They saw me coming and ran screaming like wee little babies to Christian's car. Like a mythical hero of old, I leaped across the parking lot in a single bound and landed firmly on the hood of Christian's car, my fiery eyes causing a chain reaction wherein both Christian and Graeme simultaneously wet their pants. I roared, and after a brief moment, when Christian and Graeme felt very uncomfortable and wondered when the last time it was that they had wet their pants, Christian started the car and began to dive.

When I had bounded across the parking lot with the wrath of 10,000 suns, I had my Bible in my hand. When the car began to move, I jumped clear, knowing that their fear of me would eventually drive them to an early grave. However, my Bible was still on their hood. One would think that a ginormous Bible the size of the Black Stone of Mecca (horrible analogy, I know) would be noticed by someone if it were perched right in front of them on the hood of their car. Well, at least that's what I thought. Apparently, though, vision tests for drivers aren't as thorough as they used to be. I guess being able to see as far as the hood is asking a bit much. After all, who really wants to drive Blind Grandma Gertrude to pick up her hemroid medication every day. So, my Bible is gone. Again.

When Christian and Graeme found out what had happened, they very graciously went back to look for my Bible along the route they had taken. Now knowing the extent of their eyesight, Darcie and I went back as well and walked a good 60 hours in the pouring rain to try and find it. Oh, and did I mention it was raining? Now that it's gone a second time, I am even more disheartened than the first, because I remembered how much I enjoyed that Bible when I got it back. "You don't know what you have 'till it's gone" is what some annoying pop song says, and I guess it's right. When Dan heard it was gone, he asked if it had a lot of sentimental value and sounded slightly incredulous that I missed it so much. I understand where he's coming from. I live in a country where I can just buy another one, and indeed I have several others. It's also crucial that we do not let the Bible be an idol. I'm not even going to pretend to be uber-spiritual and say that it breaks my heart to see God's book lost. After all, it's the message inside that's important and not the actual paper and ink.

The thing is, this message had become my message. When my Nanny committed suicide, it was on that paper that I highlighted where the psalmist writes "Praise be to God, who daily bears our burdens," which was the first passage I turned to. I had also put a lot of time into reading through it and highlighting what is important to me, so it was becoming a book I was could be comfortable with. It was becoming my own, and I had put more time into it than every essay I have ever written combined. Even the time I'd spent recently, highlighting what was important to me had taken longer than any essay I've ever written. I'm sure we all know what it's like to lose, just about lose, or fear losing something we've put a lot of time into.

You see, if my Bible was just a Bible, then it wouldn't be difficult to replace. It would be more of a position in my life to fill than something that hurts to lose. When we become attached to the uniqueness of this particular thing, however, we are in a very dangerous place, because things are temporary. Even people will die on us eventually. Thus, the Buddha is right in saying that if we eliminate desire we eliminate suffering. However, I tend to side with the old adage "It is better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all."

God, in theory, is a position. Let's be honest. The idea of an omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent God is not hard to come up with. There are billions of people who have a God-substitute that works fine as far as that is concerned. The problem is, for them there is no evidence that they will ever be able to cross the gap from their temporal, fleeting existence to the perfection they conjure up.

Jesus Christ, on the other hand, is Someone particular. Oh, if only He were just God and not also man it would be easy to say we love Him! We could come up with our own way of worshipping Him and say He is whoever we want Him to be. It wouldn't drive me to tears to think of His death. I wouldn't be faced with the reality of what He actually said and the claims that He made. So much hardship would be avoided! Alas, this is not the case. He has come and met with me, and this is one thing I cannot deny, for He is particular just as I am particular.

I have encountered the dying and the risen Christ here in all of my inadequacies and failures, here in my deformities and insecurities, and this is how I know His love for me. Once you have truly understood His love, it is impossible to deny it. If I had not looked in His eyes, I would be able to look away. If I had not heard his heart stop for me, my own heart would not have had to start to beat. I love Him because He first loved me. So, here I am. My dear little Bible is gone and my precious Friend has left this earth. I know missing my Bible will never bring it back, but my Friend has told me that if I believe in Him and confess Him out of my love for Him then one day I will see Him face to face. This is what it is to be a Christian. To be committed to love. There is no turning back. Once you love, it is not something you can forget about or discard, like an idea. In fact, we cannot truly love an idea or an object because we cannot identify with them enough. We may say we do, but we don't. I could never love my Bible. We can only love a Person. I believe with all my heart, despite the pain that comes with the possibility of loss, despite the times I wonder if I've been let down and despite the rough edges of the Man of Sorrows, that it is only His wounded arms of love that are able to bear us into eternity.