One question on many lips has been: ‘What are you going to do with all your books?’ That has not been fully worked out at the time of writing, but it is undoubtedly a chore I cannot ignore for much longer. The problem with folk like me is that quite a lot of our book accumulation over the years has been aspirational rather than realistic. You buy a book in case it goes out of print. You buy a book because it deals with something you feel you should know about. You buy a book knowing you won’t crack it open in the short-term but one of those days . . . If you are not guilty of any of this at least you can be sympathetic.
The result is there is a substantial amount of stuff that never gets read and possibly never will be. Just last week, however, I came across Henri Nouwen’s The Return Of The Prodigal Son. It was published in 1992 and more than likely I bought it close to that date. Nouwen was appreciated by many Christians as a devotional writer, and this is an extended meditation on a painting by Rembrandt which had a profound effect upon him. It depicts the reconciliation of the lost son with the forgiving father in Luke 15: 11-13.
For some reason I never got round to reading it although it is regarded as one of Nouwen’s best. I’m happy to say, however, that that is currently being rectified and is proving to be a great blessing. You know a book is making an impact when you feel you are keeping company with the author, hearing a voice beneath the text. It may have lain for thirty years unread, but it is now living in the moment. Maybe it was for such a time as this that it was bought.
The books of the Bible are much older, and some are better known to us than others. Perhaps some have in a sense been sealed to us. But we should never lose the faith that the Holy Spirit is the inspirer of the Scriptures and is seeking to reveal God and His love for each one of us. To open a book of the Bible is to seek the company of God, to know Him and to know His ways. To open a book of the Bible is to experience the love that Jesus spoke of in the story of the forgiving father. Love which inspired a seventeenth century artist, a twentieth century writer, and a twenty-first century Presbyterian minister approaching retirement. That’s how it works. We don’t call it the living Word for nothing. Maybe unread but always waiting the moment of revelation.
