The Bible in the Weeds

On one of my recent litter-collection jaunts at church I came upon a surprising sight. A bag (likely stolen) had been eviscerated in a corner of the property, its picked-over contents strewn about, one of which was a battered and dew-spattered copy of the New Testament. Its gold lettering sparkled in the morning light and looked as surprised to be there as was I to find it.

At first I thought of how odd it was to find the majestic King James Version of the New Testament flung promiscuously on the earth and how it conflicted with the absolute rule I was taught as a child that the sacred scriptures must never be allowed to touch the ground. Then I reflected on how we never know where we will find the sacred in our daily life--in the form of people, nature, or even in what appears at first to be garbage.

I took the Bible into my office to dry it out. For some reason it seemed oddly important to me and I kept thinking about it, but couldn't figure out why. Then it came to me; it was the feeling of recognition. I, too, have been cast by circumstance into odd and confusing situations and had to rely on the care of others to be picked up from my desperate condition. If I hadn't been out to clean up trash that morning the book would be have been drenched in the rain and ruined. It all felt like a parable of rescue.

For a time, I was wondering what to do with this book. Now I know: I'm going to read from it as a form of intercession for all those people--myself included--who feel lost and need someone to go looking for them, even accidentally.

The Bible in the weeds describes all of us at one time or another: sacred but dumped, disregarded but message-bearing, lost but still precious.

Keep on walking in the world, looking for who and what needs finding--even if in an unexpected form. It could be the self you thought stolen, the neighbor you never met, or the key to opening your heart all over again.

Brandon+