There was a time when the Bible was kind, and the pages were soft, and the words were inviting. There was a time when faith was blind, and my world was a psalm, and the psalm was exciting. There was a time...and then it all went wrong.
(With Apologies to Andrew Lloyd Webber)
Today, I wanted to write about a subject which I've been brooding and thinking over for a couple of days. My thoughts on this were prompted by a very simple question, posed by a friend a few days ago. The question was: "Are you still reading your Bible?" A simple question, on the surface, and I could have just given a quick and simple answer--"No, I'm not." But I felt that the question deserved more thought and that I needed to delve deeper into my reasons for not reading the Bible--well I can't say I don't read it at all, I do. But I don't read it in the same way that I used to.
I can remember a time when reading the Bible was a daily exercise for me. It was not a duty, it was not just something I did out of routine, but it was something I loved to do. I loved to "get between the pages" of the "good book" and read. I could read it for hours and I never came away from such reading without having discovered something awesome, or, just something that suited my needs in that particular moment. I loved the Bible so much that I spent three years in Bible College studying the books of the Old and New Testaments in greater depth. I immersed myself in it and loved every minute of it.
And then, as I said above: "It all went wrong."
During my time at Bible College, and due to circumstances that I won't delve too deeply into here, I suffered an emotional breakdown. It was due to a combination of the stress of study loads, being a young mother with three kids aged under twelve, finding out that my mother had terminal cancer, and my marriage hitting a reef. It was a difficult time. It was to last from 1996 until around about 2001.
During that time, as I worked with my doctor and other specialists to sort through the wreckage of my life, I came to face some hard truths. These were things I had denied most of my life, shoved away in the deep dark recesses of my soul and done my best to forget. I think I even convinced myself, for a long time, that I was free from those issues. All the while they'd festered and putrified, buried down deep in the darkness until like an ugly infectious abscess they erupted to the surface and spread stench and sickness on everything they touched.
Of course, I tried to turn to the bible for solace. I dug through it, looking for the lovliness that had never failed me before. I didn't find it. All I found within the pages of the beloved book were recriminations, accusations, spite and vengeful words that gave no comfort at all.
In Bible College, I'd taken a course in Hermeneutics (interpretation of Scripture) and I began to apply what I had learned to some of those accusatory passages. I was not looking for a way to make the Bible say other than it seemed to say on the surface. I was looking for the truth. I fervently prayed I would find the truth.
What I found, rattled my faith to the very foundations. I had prayed to find the truth, and what I found was the opposite of what I had always been taught. Of course, I must only suppose that the Holy Spirit lead me into that truth, in answer to my prayers, and that what I had been taught as truth, was in fact an error. I hesitate to say it was a lie, though part of me thinks it might indeed be possible that it is a lie.
I began to wish I had never made that study. I began to wish I had never been brought face to face with the issues that had made me ill, but--wishes are not worth much after something has already happened.
As I began to look into my findings more deeply, I found that there is an enormous debate going on around the issue of what the Bible says about homosexuality and that people on both sides will not hesitate to "clobber" one another with this Scripture or that Scripture as proof of their side of the argument. The more I saw this happening, the less I was able to read those passages quoted in the often lengthy arguments posted by either side.
It got to where whenever I recognized a quotation from the Bible, my eyes would skip past that part of the discussion, refusing to see or read it. Why would I want to read it when it was being hurled like a curse, or waved and brandished like a club? Clobber...it's good word for what people do with the Bible.
As I began to open up to people about my orientation and my studies, I found myself on the receiving end of such "Clobbers" and let me tell you, they hurt, just as much as if you'd hit me over the head with a club.
More and more, my beloved Bible was left on the shelf, ignored and neglected. Why would anyone willingly pick up the very weapon used to beat her over the head with and embrace it as a friend?
It's only recently that I have even found the ability to pick up a bible and open it again without feeling scared and unhappy. I am working, slowly at being able to read Scripture passages quoted in Blog posts and can do it, when I know that what I am reading is not another debate on "What the Bible really says."
It's a slow recovery, but I am getting there. So far, I can only bear to read from the psalms and proverbs, but that is better than nothing.
So, I guess my point in writing this is to ask those who want to fling Scripture at someone in a debate, to think twice before you "Clobber" them.
Do you really think that beating someone over the head with the book, and then expecting them to love and embrace it, and or your faith is logical?
I am currently reading a book called 
Preacher James Montgomery was speaking in Liverpool in 1822 when there was a sudden black out. Panic was about to ensue amongst his listeners until the pastor of the church where he was speaking called out a reassurance: "There is still light within!" The people calmed and Montgomery finished preaching his sermon in the dark.