I love books. And I love knowledge. And I love acquiring both, probably more so than the average bear. One of my very favorite pieces of artwork by
Randal Spangler is called "The Sanctuary of Knowledge." It captures this idyllic image I have in my head of someday having this vast library with shelves and books that seem to go on forever, with countless pages waiting to be read and book spines waiting to be cracked open. (And maybe I'm really partial to the idea of having a ladder in my library.)
I remember when I was in college and the local library temporarily relocated so they could renovate their old space. When they reopened, I walked into the new space and nearly started crying I was so overwhelmed by this sudden love for this little corner of the world, full of books and endless stories waiting to be read.
So, yes, I probably have a somewhat unhealthy - and on occasion abnormal (as evidenced by my inexplicable tears over a public library) - affection for the written word.
But then when I stop and consider how lightly I cast aside the Word of God, I want to hang my head in shame. Oh, how I esteem the words of men more than I do the words of God! My head is full of knowledge
about Him, but do I really
know Him?
And I swear
Mike Leake from Desiring God wrote his latest blog post with me in mind. When I got done reading it, I couldn't decide whether to wince, groan, or turn away and pretend I didn't read it - because it was like an arrow to the heart, the kind that pricks you when confronted with something that rings all too true in your own life and you desperately wish it weren't so.
The glasses gave it away.
If it weren't for those glasses, his unruly hair and wild beard would cause you to mistake him as a peddler. You’d reach your hands in your pocket in search for some coins. But those glasses — and the penetrating eyes behind them — give you pause.
This old man isn't a beggar hardened by long nights on the streets — he’s a thinker, worn down by a million ideas.
He offers you a tour of his vast library, an experience not many have had. With a little suspicion, but more intrigue, you venture into his darkened home. Here you learn that this peculiar man is a well-studied theologian. His mound of books on the millennial reign of Christ would likely take a thousand years to read (perhaps a literal thousand years).
But as you look around in awe, Jesus’s words come to mind:
Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (Matthew 6:19–21)
This old man doesn't own a Rolls Royce. He doesn't have walls full of priceless paintings. In fact, by the looks of his house, the only possession he really cares about is this extensive collection of books about Jesus. He has given himself to study — to theology — but his treasure is in the wrong place. Though his books are about another world, he’s been laying up treasure in the present one.
On the day Jesus returns all of his books will be for naught. Every question he had about the second coming will be answered. His other theories will be resolved. And he’s left without treasure. Because in all his reading, throughout all his pursuing theology, he never found time to pursue Theos.
It may turn out that he has correct opinions about every doctrine, and the perfect rebuttal for everything wrong, but what is most important is that this man’s heart treasure the truly inexhaustible: God himself.
Our views on spiritual gifts, end times, the author of Hebrews, and a hoard of other things will pass away. When the perfect comes our views will disappear. And we must be careful not to lay up treasures in our views and miss the One who is truly worth treasuring.
Good theology books are very important, but even the best, when left on the shelf, emphatically cannot replace what it means to know God. If your library doesn't lead you to a deeper affection for Jesus, then it’s as useless as a collection of shells.
And there comes the arrow to the heart. I can read a hundred pages an hour, devouring book after book and yet, I find it a struggle to sit down and read one verse of God's Holy Word. I chase after all this knowledge
about Him and still manage to miss Him all together. I don't want to come to the end of it all and find I missed the one truly worth treasuring because I was too busy sticking my nose in a book, acquiring knowledge and ideas that were merely shadows of who He truly is. That's not to say that books are bad or that knowledge is evil - they are good and right things. But they cannot be the ultimate things. If there is ever a sanctuary of knowledge to pursue, may I not find it in books, but in His very presence.
