The Living Bible
My Act of Rebellion
“Psalms 119, 101, 129
To my special middle child
With all my love
Your Mother
June 24, 1979”
For those who read and believe in the Bible, it is very important that we find a good, if not perfect fit with our Bible. This is a book, which even if you do not read it every day, you at least think about reading it every day. There are those who write in their Bibles, I am one of them, while others take issue with even putting their name in their Bible. It needs to be the right size, have the right feel, and speak to you in the right way.
When I was in junior high school, my Mother and I had a conversation about my lack of Bible reading. I complained about all the thee’s and thou’s, in fact the same objection I had to poor William Shakespeare. My Mother was not to be detoured, in her quest, for me to spend more time with the Word of God; she listened to my objections and stepped away, long enough to go the Christian Book store. She came home and handed me The Living Bible Paraphrased, Tyndale House Publishers, Wheaton, Illinois, first printing July 1971.
It was the 70’s, the Jesus movement was up and running, Christian music was changing, people were becoming much more casual in their church attire, and the Bible had been “updated” to the current vernacular. The copy she originally gave me was even kind of cool – it was green – who had ever heard of a green Bible?
I remember being slightly suspicious of it, as I took the Bible from her hands. “Read it Jill.”
“Yes Mother,” was the only acceptable answer. Plus, I grew up in a house where the most important history, poetry, music, and literature book was the Bible, and quoting it earned you extra points. The best way to triumph in an argument, discussion, or desire to do anything, was by being able to provide scripture, which supported your position. If not for my soul, I needed to be the master of this book, to survive and thrive, in my family.
Even as a young person, I always appreciated that I could freely speak, with both of my parents, about the questions and concerns, which were raised by my faith. I remember telling both of my parents that the Bible contradicted itself, and my Mother saying. “Jill please,” but she, like my Father, would listen to my issues, and patiently discuss them, until we would all decide that we had arrived at an acceptable conclusion; even if the conclusion was that we had to continue to read the Word and ask God to enlighten us, for round two of the conversation, on another day.
I loved the Bible, I loved the history and the prose, and even when I took issue with God striking the women, children, and animals dead, I still loved the symmetry of His deeds. He would explain how things were going to happen, what the person needed to do, and what would happen if they did not follow through, on His directive.
At a very young age, I chose to accept the whole kit and caboodle, as the inspired Word of God, I just had issues with King James; and my brilliant Mother figured out a way around him.
I remember opening my new Bible and being repeatedly surprised at how easy it was to read. Initially I spent a lot of time comparing verses between my old King James Bible and my new Living Bible, for me I quickly found that the Living Bible enlightened the passages, and made the Word of God easier to understand and to be received from – my Mother was always right – thank God.
When I graduated from high school, my Mother gave me a smaller, red leather, edition of The Living Bible, with the above inscription. It was a good thing, as I would soon forget the green edition, at a Calvary Chapel service, in Costa Mesa, a huge loss. The red Bible would take its place, and join me on my first trip to Europe; it went with me to Mexico, and Panama, and even Jamaica.
For years, the poor, rather bruised Bible would accompany me everywhere I went, and be my go to Bible, at home and in church; until the unthinkable happened: Mother announced, very matter of fact “Jill, you are too old for that Bible.”
“What? What do you mean? I love this Bible!” I did, I loved my Living Bible. I protested that she had given me The Living Bible, and she reminded me that I had been a child when I received it and now it was time to move on. She gave me a New International Version (NIV), while getting Kate hooked on the New King James. I was devastated, but put my red Bible on the book case, and began to embrace the NIV, which was okay. When the Full Life Study Bible came out, which she was very excited about; I bought her a King James Version, and bought myself yet another NIV, which was a fine version.
Thus, as the years passed, I would continue to read the NIV, while my red Bible sat on a book shelf, in the religious section, between my Mother’s red Bible and my Father’s black Bible, both King James, though one in English and one in Spanish. The three Bibles were part of what must be grabbed in case of a fire, becoming treasured mementos, which were occasionally taken down and flipped through to see what passage one of them had underlined, or what comment I had written in the margins, of my red Bible.
I was resigned to reading my more grown up Bible, until I happened upon a green copy of The Living Bible, at a second hand store, last year. It was the exact same version, as my first Living Bible, and whoever had previously owned it, had fortunately for me (though probably not that good for them), never opened it! I felt a bit guilty buying it, but initially told myself that I could always give it to Caroline and Doug to pass it on to someone else.
Once I got the Bible home, I sat down and opened it, as if I was rediscovering a favorite book, from my childhood, which in fact I was. It was exciting and interesting, and lacking most of the clever notes which my very nice NIV had; and suddenly I found myself elated with the Word of God, in a manner I had not experienced for years. I felt guilty and a bit knotty; it had not been that long since I had lost my Mother, and I debated how much she would disapprove of my choice. I concluded that she would be happier to know that I was enjoying my reading more than she would be disappointed in my version of choice.
Within months, I found a second copy, just like the first, and decided I would make one a Maine Bible and other a Florida Bible, the Florida Bible became the travel Bible.
If my mid-life crisis stops at reverting to the Bible version of my youth, then I think I will be fine. I still read my verse of the day, from Bible Gateway, in the NIV; but as most of the scripture I know by heart, came from listening to my parents preaching or recitation, when I quote the Bible, it is always from the King James Version – something for everyone.
