Friday, April 3, 2009

The Promise

Chaim Potok once wrote a novel about two young men who had grown up as best friends within the world of Hasidic Judaism in the middle of the twentieth century. Actually, one of them was Hasidic, and the other was more of a semi-observant, scholarly, believing but non-Hasidic modern Jew. Ironically, the boy who was raised as a Hasid became a psychologist; the more modern boy became a rabbi.

He told the story of their young adulthood in The Promise. I enjoyed this novel very much because (like a really good story should) it made me relate to some of the characters. One in particular had decided to keep his traditions; sabbath, passover, study of the Talmud, but in his heart he no longer believed that God exists. He was trying to construct a theology for reverent Judaism without faith in God.

In no way can I relate to his lack of belief in God, but there is a question this character posed which strikes all of us. He had made a lifetime of his Torah study, and he genuinely loved the tradition of the Torah, but his scholarly approach had made it difficult for him to continue to feel a sense of wonder, or tender reverence, for his subject matter.

"That's the problem... how can we teach others to regard the tradition critically and with love? I grew up loving it, and then learned to look at it critically. That's everyone's problem today. How to love and respect what you are being taught to dissect."

Have you ever sat through a sermon and felt a passage of scripture becoming so familiar, so well-worn, that it began to lose its impact? I have. I've preached those sermons. Familiarity and scrutiny has a tendency to quash the forcefulness of a new and bracing idea.

How important is it for us to keep ourselves fresh and innocent when we come to the scriptures? You might rather ask, how important is it for the Bible to hold sway over us, to hold the power to astound, shock, humble and amaze us?

I think it is of great importance.

Somebody once said that familiarity can breed contempt, even at the very altar of God. We have a thousand study bibles, a hundred thousand bible studies, dozens upon dozens of conferences and weekend teaching retreats.

Are we now more susceptible to the power of his Word?

I leave that question to you...

2 comments:

Mom and Dad's Blog said...

First - thanks for updating! A very powerful question. I shall ponder it.

Mom and Dad's Blog said...

I understand what you mean about the familiarity... about 10 years ago a young lady in our church told me I had lost my first love of the Lord... I believe it was because I didn't partisipate in worship the was she did: waving my hands around - clapping or jumping up and down with the music.
Ture, I was raise in a very conservitive church and I worship more from inside - communing with God with my thoughts and emotions. But her comments brought me up short and I took it as a ... oh, I don't know - I guess a reminder to always be open to Christ. So, when I am dealing with familure sermons and such, I work at thinking - what else is God trying to reach me with... saying to me?
Dad