Musings About the Word

The Bible is filled with fascinating and memorable stories.  As a boy I read again and again the family struggles of Genesis, the walk the Hebrew took through the Red Sea, the epic battle between David and Goliath, and, of course, that fish story in the book of Jonah.  There were many others which I discovered inside the "Thees" and "Thous" of that old King James Version and they, too, captivated a young boy.  I sometimes wish I could somehow turn back the pages and go read those old stories with the same boyish excitement that I did so many years ago, but some clocks are hard to turn back.

 

When we read these stories as adults, the narrative gets lost as we find what we claim to be nuggets of discovery.  For a long time, Jonah was simply swallowed by a whale, but finally I got it that it was a big fish and not necessarily an ancestor of Moby Dick.  And, only as a adult did I take note that David picked up more stones from the creek than he would actually need.  One was enough, but he picked up more, perhaps, in case he missed. 

 

Some would say that the discovered details add to the story and give it more meaning and I am not one prepared to argue with such a thought.  But, sometimes I just find myself longing for the day when things were simple.  What was obvious in the reading was the truth and the point of the story.  It was not necessary to consult the Hebrew or Greek dictionary and no commentaries were on the book shelves.  Sometimes I long for the days when it was mostly just a boy and the Holy Spirit even if it was true back then that I did not realize He was along for the read, too.