Reading the Bible

These past few days in Mark have been a reminder of what reading the Bible is supposed to be for those of us who are seeking to become more like Christ. 

It's easy for us to read as spectators, as outsiders to the events unfolding within the pages. We bring our own faith and understanding to the stories, and we judge the characters...sometimes, rather harshly. I would never do that, we think. I can't believe they did that. 

If only they knew what I knew. 

But most of the folks in the Bible knew more than I even think I know, which is sometimes saying a lot. I mean, who am I to sit here as a person who has read the Bible and gone to church for 25-ish years and somehow think that I have the upper hand on someone like, say, Peter, who walked with the actual Jesus for three years and saw the miracles first-hand and heard His voice and knew what He smelled like? Pretty bold of me, I think. 

Who am I to sit here and make snide remarks in my heart about the disciples somehow forgetting to take seven baskets of miraculous bread with them, like they weren't going to get hungry later? 

I mean, even as I sit here and write this post, reflecting on what I have learned from the book of Mark this week, and most recently, the trial of Jesus and Peter's denial, someone in the room next to me forgot to turn their alarm off for this day that they don't even have to get up, and I promise you all - I just heard a rooster crow. 

Forgive me, Lord. 

What it all reminds me is that when we read our Bibles, as persons who are trying to become more like Jesus, the very best thing that can happen is that our Bible begins reading us. That we hear our own hearts in the stories. That we become the characters in its pages. That we recognize ourselves in the Scriptures. 

Because this isn't just a story about Noah and David and Hannah and Peter and James and a eunuch and a demon-possessed slave girl; this is a story about us. 

It's a story about me. 

It's a story about my failures, lived out through other characters. It's a story about my doubts, spoken by other tongues. It's a story about my weaknesses, made strong by the Lord. It's a story about who I really am, whether that's everything I want to be or not. It's a story that reminds me not to be so quick to judge because, now that I think about it, I can actually see how stuff like that happens. 

I can see it in the mirror. 

I read my Bible every day. But sometimes, I'm fortunate enough that my Bible reads me. And when it does, I recognize it's time to start asking myself the hard questions. 

Have I forgotten the bread? Have I forgotten the miracle? Am I prone to start a riot? Why now and not tomorrow?

They are questions worth asking.