Bible Reading for a New Year

I love new years.  For so many reasons.

One of those is thinking about how I'm going to read the Bible.

I love "resolutions" - or, perhaps more accurately: reflections, goals, re-orientations and dreams - but I don't have many resolutions that slam into effect on January 1.  (The classic:  "I'm having my last chocolate bar / binge TV watch / lazy slob day on Dec 31, before chucking out the chocolate / cutting out TV / exercising on Jan 1.")  Not so much.

But Bible reading is an exception for me.  I generally love starting a new Bible reading plan on January 1.  My plan often changes over the course of the year, as I spend time with God in his Word, and seek to listen to him when I need to be corrected with truth, comforted by his gospel grace and promises, and convicted by his call to obedience.

I want my "plan" to have this flexibility because I've learned that a Bible reading plan is a great servant, and a terrible master.  A Bible reading plan shouldn't become a means of measuring ourselves, trying to impress others or recommend ourselves to God.  However, if kept in its place, it can be a beautiful means of knowing and loving God, treasuring his Word, and setting your eyes and heart upon Christ.  

This year, I'm planning to read the whole Bible.

It kinda sounds big to read the whole Bible.  It can be hard work.  But it's doable!  And wonderful and surprising and humbling.

I've read through the Bible in a year a few times.  I still vividly remember the first year I actually completed it.  The year was 2008.  I was a final year dentistry student, and had become a Christian in September 2005, just a few years earlier.  

I just read through the Bible straight - from Genesis to Revelation - following a plan I'd found on the internet, which laid out how many chapters to read each day.  Much of the Bible was still vastly unfamiliar to me, but I plodded away, day after day, reading and praying my way through it.  I still remember sitting up in my little nurses quarters bedroom at Toowoomba Base Hospital (where I did my semester 2 prac), reading the Bible in the chilly early morning, simultaneously listening to an audio Bible - something that I found was immensely helpful in comprehension, and keeping me on track.

My impressions after that first time of reading the whole Bible in a year?

• I still didn't understand lots of it.
• I couldn't even really remember some bits I'd read.
• I had less than fond memories of Numbers and Chronicles, particularly their opening genealogies (something which has most definitely changed for me now!)

BUT...

• I discovered some incredible, rich parts of the Bible that I didn't even know existed
• It helped me to start to see the "big picture" of the Bible.  The story of salvation history, and how it all fits together.
• I started to see how all Scripture looks to, moves towards and is interpreted in light of Jesus Christ and his cross (Luke 24:25-27).  (And as the years have passed, I've come to see, understand and be deeply moved by this more and more and more.)
• I started to see how rich the Old Testament is, and how it accentuates and deepens the significance of the New Testament, and the grace shown in our precious Lord Jesus.
• I was humbled by this story of salvation history. as I saw how much bigger God's plans are than just my little life, yet at the same time, blown away that I was invited to become not only part of this incredible story, but a valued and significant member of God's family.
• It prompted heaps of questions, and I longed to know and understand more... and perhaps most of all:
• It drew me closer to my God, and his precious Son, Jesus Christ, and made me long to know him better through his Word and his Spirit. 

Another story:  A few years ago, I decided to try to read the Bible in 60 days, and one of my now-graduated youth girls was keen to join me!  Very ambitious.  We didn't make it.  We only made it to about Joshua... but we both reflected that even reading the Pentateuch in a week was so eye-opening to key threads and themes, and amazing to see the story unfolding in these big and sometimes tricky books.

I don't read the Bible through every year.  This year (2016), I started with a one-year Bible reading plan, but I stopped it after a couple of months because I felt the need to read slower and dig deeper into some key books and passages - and I'm glad for it.  But I'm planning to read the whole Bible again this year. 

Specifically, my plan is:  after being totally inspired by this blog, I'm going to read as much of the Bible as I can during January (my uni holidays).  I love reading, so I'm excited about this, and meditating on large chunks of Scripture for a while.  Then, I'm hoping to continue on with more manageable readings each day for the rest of the year.  For this, I'll be following a "chronological" reading plan - a plan which follows the Bible story "as it happened" chronologically (so, some of the historical books will be interspersed with prophets like Isaiah, for example - because they happened at a similar point in time.)

If it's something you'd like to think more about, or if you'd like to join me in 2017, there's some great resources and websites out there.  Here are just a few suggestions:

• A blog with 7 reasons why to read the Bible in a year.  I deeply echo the reasons that Melissa Kruger gives in her blog.
• The chronological Bible reading plan I'm using this year
• A few different Bible reading plan options (mostly whole Bible or New Testament), most with pdf options that you can print out
• A printable chart if you'd like to read the Bible in your own order, at your own pace, yet track what you've read. (And it's pretty!)
• If you have questions about reading the Bible in a year:  a very comprehensive FAQ!

A few final thoughts, if you'd like to read the Bible through in a year, and haven't done it before:

• Go for it!  It might be hard, but give it a try.  Even if you don't get the whole way there, it's still well worth the effort.
• Consider a plan that has daily reading from both the Old Testament and the New Testament.  (If you're more unfamiliar with the OT, it can feel like a long slog til you get to the Gospels.)
• An audio Bible really helped me, it might help you, too. 
• Don't be discouraged if you don't understand much of the Bible yet.  The more times I've read the Bible through, and have been studying the Bible, I'm getting to understand it more and more - and it is such a wonderful and precious thing!  We have a lifetime of walking with God and reading his Word - don't worry if there are some, or even lots, of bits that are confusing.
• Also don't be discouraged if you don't remember some of it!  (Same reasons as above.)
• If you have questions, find a mature Christian you know and trust, and ask them!  Great way to have some great conversations!
• Read Luke 24 - to hear on Jesus' lips how all the Scriptures ultimately point to him.
• If you would like to understand the "big picture" of the Bible better, check out "God's Big Picture" by Vaughan Roberts.  ("According to Plan" by Graeme Goldsworthy is also great - but it's a bit of a harder read.)

If you're a Christian, do you have any sort of a plan for reading the Bible in 2017? 

I'd love to hear!

On 2016, Death and Hope in the Darkness.

This morning, I awoke to the sad news that Carrie Fisher died.

Many people are heralding 2016 as a year we have survived (barely), but are ready to leave behind.

Indeed, 2016 has been a year of real sadness, claiming an inordinate number of dearly loved, talented, and well-known people - a trend which has continued all the way to the year's close.  Just to name a few:  Alan Rickman, Andrew Sachs, Leonard Cohen, Gene Wilder, Max Walker, Prince, George Michael, Muhammad Ali - and, to my deep sorrow, one of my favourites, Jon English.  (I've been a huge fan since I was in Grade 10).  And this is without delving into the other, even deeper, griefs and losses of the past year, including the devastating and ongoing war in Syria, distressing refugee crises around the world, horrific terrorist attacks which have shocked and silenced the watching world, and the ongoing horrors of domestic violence, suicide, and too many others to name.

With the news about Carrie Fisher this morning, a flood of tributes from friends, family and fans are pouring out.  Many are grieving the loss of Carrie, and celebrating and remembering this woman who, by all accounts, was smart, funny, kind, witty, talented, and bright.  To most, she is fondly remembered as Princess Leia in Star Wars, but I remember her most clearly in the movie in which I first saw her:  Drop Dead Fred.  A quirky, hilarious, ridiculous yet thought provoking and touching movie that I adored as a child - starring Rik Mayall, another great actor we lost in 2014.

A couple of Twitter comments were particularly striking:

"A wonderful talent and light has been extinguished" (William Shatner)

"Unbelievable that such a bright funny loving spark could be extinguished" (Graham Norton).

Death is such a shock.  Life truly is a light, a spark.  Human beings are capable of so much, and of loving so deeply.  Even though every single person on earth has died or will die, death remains a shock, and deeply jarring, to our very core.  We struggle to believe that something so horrific and painful could happen, and often with little warning.  It comes like a thief in the night, when we least expect it, to suddenly and inexplicably extinguish a light that burns brightly and is deeply valuable to others.  Even when death isn't a surprise, per se, there is perhaps an equal grief in seeing a light that once burned brightly grow dim, to fade away with age, disease and weariness, to lie in a hospital bed instead of living at home, until finally it's gone.

One of my favourite artists is Passenger.  Apart from being a stunning musician, he has a poet's heart, and is a keen observer of life, the world and himself.  His frequently sobering observations have often led me to think that one could put together the "worldview" of his songs, and end up, not so much with "the gospel according to Passenger", but perhaps, "the problem of the human condition according to Passenger."  He has a perceptive and honest way of pointing out the deepest unmet longings of the heart, our tendency to run in the wrong direction, and the failings even of relationships and love, the highest human hope and pursuit.

Even when he has no answers for his own questions.

In a beautiful song on his latest album, he sings movingly of his longings, yet concludes on a somber note:

i wanna be free as the winds that blow past me

clear as the air that I breathe

to be young as the morning, and old as the sea

to be free as the birds that fly past me

light as the fish in the sea

to be wise as the mountains and tall as the trees

i wanna be sunny and bright as a sunrise

happy and full as the moon

but i'm fleeting like fireworks, fading too soon.

I'm fleeting like fireworks, fading too soon.  How heavily the truth of this reality weighs upon us, as we consider our own mortality, and that of those dearest to us.  It's this same reality that William Shatner and Graham Norton recognised and grieved in the sudden passing of Carrie Fisher - in disbelief at how such a light could be extinguished.  Just like that.

In that sense, I wonder if 2016 is actually no different from any other year in its grief and losses.

Even the Bible affirms this reality of being human in this broken world.

All flesh is grass,

and all its beauty is like the flower of the field.

The grass withers, the flower fades

when the breath of the LORD blows on it;

surely the people are grass.

The grass withers, the flower fades,

but the word of our God will stand forever.

(Isaiah 40:6-8)

As for man, his days are like grass;

he flourishes like a flower of the field;

for the wind passes over it, and it is gone,

and its place knows it no more.

(Psalm 103:15-16)

Man is like a breath;

his days are like a passing shadow.

(Psalm 144: 4)

Perhaps nowhere is the brevity and futility of life more clearly seen than in Ecclesiastes.  (My current reading in the Bible).  The Preacher (the speaker in Ecclesiastes), in his examination of life with all his wisdom, identifies the futility of virtually everything we do.

I have seen everything that is done under the sun, and behold, all is vanity and a striving after wind.

(Ecclesiastes 1:14)

Not only is what we do frustrating, we have no control over what or who comes after us, to continue our memory, and to uphold all that we worked for and cared about:

I hated all my toil in which I toil under the sun, seeing that I must leave it to the man who will come after me, and who knows whether he will be wise or a fool?  Yet he will be master of all for which I toiled and used my wisdom under the sun.  

(Ecclesiastes 2:18-19)

And the terrible pinnacle of the futility of life is death.  The indiscriminate nature of death - it comes to all people: the good, the bad, the kind, the nasty, the creative, the hard-working and the lazy. 

Who knows what is good for man while he lives the few days of his vain life, which he passes like a shadow?  For who can tell man what will be after him under the sun?  

(Ecclesiastes 6:12.  Also 9:1-6)

Perhaps Ecclesiastes seems overly pessimistic (as does this whole post, maybe!), but the Preacher has an honesty that jolts us out of our complacency, like a strike of lightning in a summer storm.  In exploring the different life pursuits described in the opening chapters of Ecclesiastes, Derek Kidner comments:

Even the best of these pursuits, though, will satisfy us only in passing.  Then comes the reckoning - "then I considered all my hands had done" (2:11) - and because of death the final count comes out at nothing.  What makes it still more painful is to realise that this zero-result is an obliteration, an undoing.  There are values:  "wisdom excels folly as light excels darkness" (2:13); but there are none that endure when we are no longer there - nor anyone else - to value them.

(Kidner's BST Commentary on Ecclesiastes)

The obstinate fact of human existence is that death awaits us all, and it is the great leveller, the great undoer of all we have sought and fought for.  Ecclesiastes sits unapologetically amidst this reality, and helps us to feel the weight of the darkness.  Perhaps darkest of all is the reality that the darkness is not only around us, it is within us - the very darkness of the world starkly linked to the reality of human sin.

But this darkness isn't all there is.

As Kidner points out, there seems to be little left after the ruthless analysis of the Preacher.  "We begin to fear that [his analysis] is the only honest one."  Yet, ultimately, he ruthlessly demolishes in order to build.  He clears away everything, and all that remains is the foundational rock.  The rock which is God, the one who judges justly, and who lives forever.

Faced with the sadness, losses and frustrations of life, there remains only one true, remaining, everlasting Light.  And it's right when we are sitting in the darkness - the darkness of Ecclesiastes, of the losses of 2016, and indeed, of any year - that the Light shines the brightest.  

This futility, grief and fear we feel is real, not imagined.  We needn't pretend it's not there, or that it pains us less than it does.  But there is Someone who can save us from it, and give us real hope when it seems that there is none to be found.  

The greatest joy is that which breaks into sorrow, the greatest hope is that which breaks into despair, the greatest light is that which breaks into darkness, and the greatest life is that which breaks into death.  This is the gospel.  This is Jesus.  He didn't come just to provide some pithy material for the more spiritual amongst us.  He came to give hope to those of us (all of us) who had none...   And he did it by dying on a cross.  Dying in our place, and rising again to defeat our greatest enemy, death.

And so, for those who trust in Jesus...

...  just as the grief and inevitability of death weighs heavily on us, the eternal life which Jesus won shines as our greatest hope and certain future - the power of death destroyed - even when the grief of death remains.  (John 3:16; Eph. 2:4-7; 2 Cor. 5:1-4; 1 Cor. 15)

...  just as we are suffocated by loneliness, the indwelling Spirit and our union with Christ and our brothers and sisters, helps us breathe again, even when feelings of loneliness remains. (Matt. 28:20; Rom. 8:1-11; 1 Cor. 12:12-26) 

...  just as the future crushes us with anxiety and fear, the one who is making all things new, is both good and in control of all things, and working all things (sometimes mysteriously) for our good - a certainty in light of the cross - lifts that burden from our backs, and helps us take another step, even when feelings of anxiety remain.  (Rom. 8:28, 38-39; Matt. 11:28-30; Phil. 4:6-7; 1 Pet. 5:7)

...  just as our sin leads us to despair, the past, present and future promise of forgiveness, cleansing and grace, centred upon and flowing from Christ's cross, gives us unspeakable hope and joy, even when sorrow for sin, as we battle it, remains.  (Rom. 6:1-11; 8:1, 1 John 1:9)

...   just as we feel life's frustrations and pointlessness, we are reminded that, not only our future, but even our present is filled with meaning, as we live in Christ, in the light of his cross, and can store up treasures in heaven that will never fade.  (Gal. 2:20; Matt. 6:20)

If death is an undoing, Christ is the undoing of death's undoing.

Death is swallowed up in victory.

O death, where is your victory?

O death, where is your sting?

The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law.  But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through out Lord Jesus Christ.  

Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labour is not in vain.

(1 Corinthians 15:54-58)

Because of Jesus, like Paul (above), we can actually mock death!  It pains and wounds and even kills us, but it will not have the final word.  

One short sleep past, we wake eternally,

And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

(John Donne, Death, Be Not Proud)

I'm grateful for that which makes me honestly sit with the futility and sorrow of the world, and my own imperfection and impermanence, because it helps me to see Jesus.  It surprises my heart yet again to realise what hope is mine in Christ!  My heart overflows yet again with joy when Jesus, and his cross, breaks into the depth of my pain.  And it fills me with a burning desire to tell everyone about him, because I know that the bleak and hopeless picture of life remains for all those without him.  I'm grateful that I can face 2017 with confidence, whatever it brings (in spite of personal fears of potential loss which may come), because of Jesus, my Saviour and Lord, and my only hope.

What is your hope as you face a new year?