Charlie Brown, King Jehoiakim and Governor Felix

Whenever Jehudi had read three or four columns of the scroll, the king cut them off with a scribe’s knife and threw them into the brazier, until the whole scroll was burned in the fire… Jeremiah 36:23

As Paul talked about righteousness, self-control and the judgment to come, Felix was afraid and said, ‘That’s enough for now! You may leave. When I find it convenient, I will send for you’. Acts 24:25

I have a vague yet still vivid memory of one of those wonderful “Peanuts” cartoons from years ago. Poor, hapless Charlie Brown is somersaulting backwards in mid-air having been thumped on the nose by that bolshie girl Lucy. And Lucy looks at you (not seeming particularly apologetic) and explains, “I had to hit him quick – he was beginning to make sense”.

So?

Well, have you ever closed your Bible when you saw that a passage was coming up which might tell you something you would really rather not hear? Or switched off from a sermon when the preacher was getting a bit close for comfort?

I imagine those of us who take Bible reading seriously often pray, “Lord, please speak to me today as I come to your word”. Very good, of course. But it can be rather a dangerous thing to pray. What if God does speak to me – and I don’t like what he says? What if he puts his finger on some secret sin? What if he calls me to some task I really have no stomach for?

The apostle Paul was up before the Roman governor Felix, whose wife Drusilla was Jewish. Knowing that Christianity had emerged directly out of Judaism, Felix was interested to hear what Paul had to say: “He sent for Paul and listened as he spoke about faith in Jesus Christ”. That sounds promising, doesn’t it?

But then: “As Paul talked about righteousness, self-control and the judgment to come, Felix was afraid and said, ‘That’s enough for now! You may leave. When I find it convenient, I will send for you’” (Acts 24:24-26). In Lucy-terms, “I had to hit him quick – he was beginning to make sense”.

Jehoiakim, King of Judah, learns that the prophet Jeremiah has been preaching in Jerusalem. His words have been written down by his scribe Baruch, so the king asks one of his officials, Jehudi, to read them to him. That sounds good!

But then: “Whenever Jehudi had read three or four columns of the scroll, the king cut them off with a scribe’s knife and threw them into the brazier, until the whole scroll was burned in the fire” (Jeremiah 36).

We instinctively respond, “Not so fast, Jehoiakim! God’s word can’t be disposed of as conveniently as that!” And, sure enough, no sooner had this happened than “Jeremiah took another scroll and gave it to the scribe Baruch son of Neriah, and as Jeremiah dictated, Baruch wrote on it all the words of the scroll that Jehoiakim… had burnt”. (And, for good measure, “many similar words were added to them” - Jehoiakim’s contemptuous dismissal was repaid with interest!)

The Bible isn’t always an easy book. Let’s be honest about that fact. Indeed, let’s go even further and admit that there are parts of it that, deep down, we sometimes rather wish weren’t there at all - either (a) we just don’t understand them; or (b) we do understand them but don’t see their relevance; or (c), worst of all, we understand them but find that they make us uncomfortable, and we would like them to go away, please.

But they’re not going to go away. Martin Luther famously dismissed the New Testament letter of James as worthless rubbish (an “epistle of straw”), and he was a man of massive influence. But the letter of James remains exactly where it was (thank God), tucked away near the end of the New Testament – and, in spite of Herr Luther, untold generations of Christians have found it to be rich in meaning and truth.

The fact is this: very likely it’s the bits I subconsciously avoid that are the very ones I most need if I am to grow in understanding and maturity.

Perhaps, say, I have absorbed a particular view of the return of Jesus at end of the world, or of how the Holy Spirit operates, or of the role of the sexes in the church, or of the tension between predestination and human free will – so much so that I have become blinkered and lop-sided. Is it time I took a deep breath and started to grapple with the parts of scripture which might suggest a different angle?

Or, at a much simpler level, have I spent too much of my Christian life over-dosing on Psalm 23, and John 3:16, and the Beatitudes, and 1 Corinthians 13, and a multitude of those other rich and nourishing passages? And is it high time I rolled up my sleeves and got to grips with Amos, or Ecclesiastes, or Hebrews, or yes, even Revelation.

One thing we can be sure of: God would prefer the Bible-reader who is humble enough to honestly say, “Lord, I’m sorry, but I really do find this hard to come to terms with” than the one who stubbornly sticks to the “easy” or “nice” bits.

God’s word isn’t going to go away – any more than the truths Charlie Brown was telling Lucy were going to go away. So if we are serious about growing into spiritual maturity, wouldn’t we be well-advised to face that fact?

Father, thank you for those wonderful parts of your word that have nourished, strengthened and comforted me throughout my Christian life. But please save me from subconsciously avoiding the parts I find less congenial. Teach me to love your word in its fulness, to absorb the whole spectrum of its truth, and so to grow in grace and in the knowledge of the Lord. Amen.