Listening for the Word

On our recent trip to England Isobel and I visited Southwell Minster in Nottinghamshire. It is one of the smallest but oldest cathedrals in the country. We spent several hours there, discovered that it was twinned with the cathedral in Pietermaritzburg where Steve’s funeral service was held, and lit a candle in his memory. So that was very special. Just before we left we noted a second hand book table in the north transept. I recognized many books lying there that were popular when I was a student. They were probably the remains of some priest’s library of the same vintage. Looking at the books I had a sense of sadness and nostalgia. Many were good books, but few people read them today.

We have often talked at Volmoed about the small library of books in our resource centre. I am not sure how many of them are read, but I guess relatively few would be a safe guess. Some of them are classics deserving to be read; others are books of passing interest and will probably become pulp sooner or later. That’s the way with books. So what distinguishes a classic from other books? What makes a book or film or painting or poem something that lasts the test of time; something to which people return again and again?

I recently started to read again one of the greatest literary classics of all time, The Brothers Karamazov. Written by the nineteenth century Russian author Fyodor Dostoevsky, it is a challenging task. Not only is it very long, but the Russian names of the many characters are often confusing. So why is it translated into so many languages and still published, bought and read? There are several reasons – one is its masterful style, and another the story it tells. Yet these do not necessarily make it a classic. Many books are well written and their stories gripping. A classic is a book or a movie, or a work of art that has universal appeal because it touches our hearts and minds in a way that is often life-changing. It may be entertaining, but it is more than that. It has the ring of truth, sometimes comforting often challenging. It endures over the years because it speaks to the human condition no matter the time or place.

The word bible simply means a “book,” yet over time it has taken on a deeper meaning. It has come to refer to the “classic” of Christian faith. The cook’s bible or the golfer’s bible are undoubtedly helpful in their own way, but the Bible speaks to and nourishes our hearts and souls. This is the enduring power, for example, of the Psalms, the book of Job, the four Gospels, and Paul’s exposition of the meaning of love. Each is different from the other in style and idiom, but all of them timeless because they speak to our experience of life, our sorrows and joys, our fears and hopes, our failures and our discovery of forgiveness, grace and healing.

I am not suggesting that we should only read classics any more than that we should only read the Bible, as some very pious Christians insist. But sadly so much of what we do read, see on TV or the silver screen is superficial and faddish titillating our whims and fancies instead of touching our souls deep down. Sitcoms together with Mills and Boon novels are symptomatic of a culture that is skin deep and empty of substance, reinforcing stereotypes and peddling questionable values. We all need light relief from time to time, but we cannot live on light relief, especially when sorrow and suffering strike. Indeed, we cannot live on bread alone, to say nothing of cake and chocolates, but only on the word of life.

When we read the Bible in worship and contemplation we are doing more than studying an ancient text or trying to find in it only what we want to hear; we are listening for the word of life we need to hear even though we do not always want to hear it. For as the letter to the Hebrews puts it the word we hear in Scripture: “sharper than any two edged sword… able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart.” (4:12) Yet it is precisely this word that gives life. This was Jeremiah’s experience as he struggled with the crises of his own life: “Your words were found, and I ate them, and your words became to me a joy and the delight of my heart.” (15:16) We keep reading the Bible, not because every word speaks to us in the same way or at all, or because we understand everything it contains, but because time and again we discover that if we truly listen we hear a word from beyond ourselves that speaks directly to our need, changing our perspective and our lives. And this is supremely so when we ponder the gospels. “The words that I have spoken to you” Jesus tells us, “are spirit and life.”

(John W. de Gruchy is Emeritus Professor of Christian Studies, University of Cape Town and Extraordinary Professor at the University of Stellenbosch. This is a weekly meditation given at the Eucharist service at Volmoed Christian Community Centre, Hermanus.)