A Bible is a treasure. It doesn't just contain the Word of God. It is the Word of God. There are those who say that the various translations dilute the Word, there are those who say the language is archaic, there are those who say it is too hard to understand. All that is somewhat true. There are some versions that omit verses, those who say the language is archaic really prefer to read text like messages rather than actual sentences, and the Bible can be hard to understand if you only read it when the world looks like the end is coming. When reading the Word, you will find little golden nuggets scattered throughout. Don't grab a verse here and there. The Bible was never meant to be read that way. To many good people get dragged down the wrong path by doing that. When it is read earnestly, it is the perfect Book.
I love the Bible with a passion. I really like the fact that I can read the same passage over fifty times in ten years and get something new each time.
I found early on in my Christian walk that the Word can explain itself better than I can explain the Word. With that in mind, I started giving Bibles away to people. I would buy them by the case and keep them on a bookshelf in my office. Someone would come in for counseling or someone I had shown the way to Christ or a Youth who was searching or whoever, and they would leave my office with a Bible and a list of passages that pertained to their need. How many did I give away? I pastored a church for eleven years that gave me $1,000 a year for books. I usually bought some books for my need and the then the rest went for Bibles. I didn't give really nice Bibles from that, but usually around $10.00 a piece (a $10.00 Bible then was much nicer than a $10.00 Bible now). I would buy them by the case and thus get a better deal. I would spend around $800 a year, so that meant eighty Bibles a year. Times eleven years. That is eight hundred eighty Bibles in just that eleven year period. And there were times I bought really nice Bibles for some, though not as often. When I left that church, I had three Bibles left. At the church prior to that church, I gave many Bibles away, but that money came out of my pocket.
Bibles contain the basis for our faith. But this is a tale of just two Bibles.
The first is one I have written about before. My Bible. I read it every day from January 1976 to the end of 2006. At that point I looked at that battered old Bible and decided to retire it. I bought a new one and put the old one away. Yet, it kept showing up in my hands somehow. Even now, it still turns up. Pages are worn, leather is cracked, there is a stain on the back. Some pages are loose. It deserves a quiet retirement. But it keeps coming back for more. In January of 1976, a lady in the town where I served, a lady who went to a completely different church, came to me with an old Bible box. Inside was the Bible, wrapped in oiled paper to keep the leather pliable. She explained to me that when WWII ended, along with all the celebrations, she felt led of God to buy the best Bible she could afford and then give it to the person whom the Holy Spirit directed her to give it too. It took thirty one years for the Spirit to move her to give it away, and I was the recipient. It has been my closest companion over the years. Obviously, it has great importance to me.
The other Bible in this "Tale of Two Bibles" is a Bible that had not entered my mind in decades. When I was growing up, Keith was my best friend. I would have done anything for Keith, even protecting him a few times. Keith had a little sister, Karen, who a royal PAIN! Two years younger than us, she wanted to do everything we did. I met Karen when I was three and she was one. But somewhere along the way, Karen became different. She became a friend. Our paths separated when I left for college, but we were still close. As we got older it seemed the only times we got together was for funerals. First her Dad then her Mom and then, the hardest for me, Keith. But we did stay in touch occasionally. When we exchanged letters or cards or emails, I was always reminded just how much her life impacted me as we grew up.
Karen has had COVID for the last week or so. We have texted back and forth because I am concerned and because she has been so sick she needed her oldest friend to be concerned. At one point on Friday evening, she texted me a picture of an old, slightly tattered white Bible. Another picture with the note that came with the Bible. The caption under the two pictures said, "My prized possession." It took me a minute or so to realize that the Bible was the one I had given her almost fifty years ago. All those Bibles that had passed from my hands to so many others, at least a thousand, this was the first. And she has read it. She has sought solace in its pages. Courage, answers, direction. And she still has it.
I cannot explain the emotions that swept over me. I am sure a lot of those Bibles I gave out never left their boxes. Others got left behind. Some were read until the crisis passed. But some were read. Some were treasured. Some became important.
Many say they cannot witness their faith. Give a Bible to someone. The Holy Spirit will direct their reading. What can you give that is more precious than God's very Words?
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