Living word, living people

 

As children, the view of good parents often shifts dramatically. In those early years, they’re often trusted completely. We might cry for them when we’re hungry or upset, and we believe that any problem can be solved simply by their presence. They are our heroes, our source of comfort and safety.

But then we grow. We begin to question their decisions — perhaps over pocket money, or the rules they set. Suddenly, those once-infallible figures seem hopelessly out of touch. And yet, as we mature, we often come full circle. We begin to see their wisdom, their love, and their desire to do what’s right for us. They may not be perfect, but they wanted what was best for us.

In many ways, our relationship with the Bible can follow a similar path. As children, we may have enjoyed Bible stories — singing songs, acting out dramas, and learning about things like Noah’s ark, David’s sling, and Jesus’ miracles. But as we grew older, we may have grown bored or skeptical. Perhaps we were told it had been “disproved” by science, or that its moral teachings were outdated. 

We found parts of it difficult, even uncomfortable, and slowly, we put it back on the shelf.

Today is Bible Sunday — a moment to ask: did we ever take it off the shelf again? Have we dusted it off and opened its pages with fresh eyes? Have we grown into a place that sees the Bible not as a relic or a thing to have on our shelves, but as a living word — a guide, a source of divine wisdom and human truth?

Because sadly in much of the Western world, the Bible is being read less and less, even by Christians. And yet, it remains the most valuable thing this world affords — not because it offers scientific formulas or technical data, but because it speaks to the heart of what it means to be human, and to be loved by God.

We still love and hate with the same intensity as those in the days of Noah. We still have all kinds of emotions like the psalmists, and we still long for healing and hope like the crowds who gathered around Jesus. And God still loves us, cries with us, rejoices with us, and walks alongside us.

In our gospel reading (Luke 4:16–24), we see Jesus returning to his hometown of Nazareth. He stands in the synagogue and reads from the scroll of Isaiah:

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.”

Then he rolls up the scroll, sits down, and says, “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.”

It’s a breathtaking moment. Jesus declares that the ancient promises of Scripture are being fulfilled — not in theory, but in person. In him. The Word made flesh.

And yet, what happens next? The people are amazed — but not in a good way. They begin to question: “Isn’t this Joseph’s son?” They doubt. They resist. They reject him.

This passage reminds us that the Word of God is not always welcomed, even when it stands right in front of us. As the saying goes, ‘Familiarity can breed contempt’. We can become so used to the Bible that we forget its power. Or we can become so skeptical that we refuse to let it speak. 

But Jesus doesn’t back down. He speaks truth, even when it’s uncomfortable. And that’s what the Bible does. It comforts, yes — but it also challenges. It reveals God’s love, but it also calls us to repentance, to transformation, to mission.

During the Coronation Service, after the King was crowned, the Moderator of the Church of Scotland presented him with a Bible and said: “Receive this Book, the most valuable thing this world affords. Here is wisdom…” 

That wasn’t poetic exaggeration. It was truth.

The Bible is valuable because it is inspired — “God-breathed.” It speaks to each of us personally. Through many voices and styles, it carries one message: the message of God’s love and salvation.

It is also practical. St Augustine called it “our letter from home.” It is not a fairy tale or a book of abstract philosophy. It is a book of reality — of pain and joy, war and peace, suffering and redemption. It is, as it’s been often described, a manual for life.

There’s a story of a rather pompous man who called himself a tree expert. Someone replied, “So is a monkey!” The point is clear: it’s not enough to study the Bible — we’re invited to live in it. To allow it to shape us, to speak to us.

But it’s not always easy. When I was in college, we were required to say Morning and Evening Prayer daily. I found it really hard. I struggled. I even questioned what was point of doing it formally like that. But an elderly priest told me: “You won’t always feel motivated. But if you don’t build the habit, you risk your spiritual fitness.” 

The Bible is like that - with all its challenges, with the things within it we might struggle with or grapple with understanding, we keep going… Discipline matters. There is no shortcut to spiritual maturity.

During World War II, a young soldier named James was captured and thrown into a prison camp. The guards were ruthless, and the conditions were brutal. One day, while searching through rubble, James found a single torn page from a Bible—just one page. It was from Psalm 23.

He hid it in his boots and read it every night by moonlight: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want…” That page became his lifeline. Other prisoners gathered around him to hear it, and hope began to spread.

Years later, James returned home. He kept that page, now yellowed and fragile, in a frame on his wall. When asked why, he said, “That one page reminded me that God hadn’t forgotten me—even when the world had.”

We live in a place where the Bible is freely available — in countless translations, with study guides and reading notes. May we never take it for granted. May we never forget its power. May we open it again, and hear the voice of Jesus saying, “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.”

Amen.