The stories of the Old Testament are unpredictable, gripping, emotional.
Madeleine L’Engle, in her book,?Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art, helped to answer why I like to read and write about the stories of the Bible. As a child, L’Engle learned to appreciate the Bible as story. “Every hero and heroine of the Bible,” she said, “does more than he would have thought it possible to do, from Gideon to Esther to Mary.”
I can relate to that. I think we all can. Aren’t we all asked to do more than we think we can handle? The people in the Bible stories aren’t more than human, not more than we are. The tellings seem to emphasize that. L’Engle could not find anyone in the stories “who was in any worldly way qualified to do the job which was nevertheless accomplished.” Moses, she said, “was past middle age . . .and spoke with a stutter. . . reluctant and unwilling and he couldn’t control his temper.” Nevertheless, Moses did what he needed to do.
Nevertheless. I like that word. It speaks of overcoming, of doing more than we thought we could in spite of the odds against us.
L’Engle said: “In a very real sense not one of us is qualified.” There is an inherent danger in feeling qualified. “If we are qualified, we tend to think that we have done the job ourselves. ” I want to believe that I can do difficult things, that I’m strong enough. And I want to know that I don’t need to do them all alone.
That is why I like to imagine the stories of the Bible. These people did hard things, in spite of weakness, and they did not do them alone. This gives me the hope that it can be the same with me.
(Walking on Water, 60-62)