Hold the Olives

When God’s Word is Hard to Swallow

“Sanctify them by the truth; your word is truth.” - John 17:17 (NIV)

I love a charcuterie board. Truly, I think it may be one of humanity’s better ideas. Give me a potluck, a backyard barbecue, a table full of appetizers, or really any situation where I can put twelve completely unrelated foods on the same plate and call it a meal, and I am happy. I don’t necessarily want an entire serving of one thing. I want one little piece of everything. A cracker with cheese, a few grapes, some pickles, something dipped in something else (BIG sauce/dip fan), one of those tiny sandwiches that somehow tastes better simply because it is tiny - don’t even get me started on pigs in a blanket... I want options. I want variety. And, most importantly, I want the ability to quietly leave the things I don’t like sitting right where they are.

This is a wonderful philosophy for appetizers. It is a terrible philosophy for following Jesus.

Following God is not a charcuterie board. We do not get to approach Scripture like an aesthetically pleasing platter of beliefs, taking a little grace, adding some forgiveness, grabbing a piece of “God has a plan for my life,” and politely passing over whatever looks a little less appetizing. Yet I think we can be remarkably good at doing exactly that. There are parts of the Bible we underline, highlight, put on coffee mugs, and send to our friends. And then there are parts we would prefer God had run by us before including.

Jesus prayed for His disciples in John 17:17, “Sanctify them by the truth; your word is truth” (NIV).

Not some of your Word is truth. Not the portions that fit comfortably within the way I already see the world are truth.His Word is truth. That distinction matters because Christianity does not begin with me deciding what I believe and then searching Scripture for support. It begins with God revealing what is true and me allowing that truth to shape what I believe.

That sounds pretty straightforward until the truth confronts something we really, really do not want confronted.

Scripture tells us to forgive when we would much rather hold onto our very compelling case for why this particular person does not deserve it. Jesus tells us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us (Matthew 5:44, NIV), which is considerably less satisfying than winning the imaginary argument we have been conducting in the shower for three days.

We are told that sex, money, our bodies, our words, our relationships, our ambitions, our time, and our possessions all fall under the lordship of Christ. We are told to deny ourselves and follow Him (Luke 9:23, NIV).

We are told not merely to avoid doing harm to people we dislike, but to actively love them. We are told that holiness matters. Obedience matters. Humility matters. Truth matters.

Some of that is hard to swallow. And I think we need to be able to admit that without immediately trying to make every difficult teaching sound easy.

There are commands in Scripture that collide directly with our desires. There are biblical truths that challenge the assumptions of the culture around us, and there are others that challenge the assumptions tucked away inside us.

Sometimes we understand God’s reasoning immediately. Sometimes we obey while still asking questions. Sometimes we encounter something in Scripture and our first response is essentially, I would not have done it that way.

But if God is only trustworthy when I agree with Him, I am not actually trusting God. I am trusting myself.

Proverbs 3:5 tells us, “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding” (NIV).

I have read that verse approximately one million times, but the second half is inconveniently important. Trusting God fully means there will be moments when my understanding is not enough. If I understood and agreed with everything before I obeyed, I would not need trust. I would simply need God to confirm the conclusions I had already reached.

This is where our view of Scripture becomes incredibly important.

Paul writes in 2 Timothy 3:16–17, “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness” (NIV).

I am personally much more enthusiastic about the teaching portion of that sentence than the rebuking and correcting portion. Teaching can feel like adding something useful to what I already know. Correction means something in me has to change.

But that change is part of the point.

Jesus does not save us and then leave us exactly as He found us. The Christian life is one of sanctification, the ongoing work of God making us more like Christ.

Paul describes it this way: “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind” (Romans 12:2, NIV).

Transformation means that over time, through the work of the Holy Spirit, even our desires and our understanding can begin to change. The truths that once felt foreign or restrictive can begin to make more sense as our minds are renewed and our hearts become increasingly aligned with His.

That does not mean every hard passage suddenly becomes easy. It does mean we learn to approach Scripture differently.

Instead of asking only, Do I like this? Do I agree with this? Does this fit naturally with what I already believe?

we begin asking,

What is God showing me here? What in me needs to be corrected? What have I assumed is true simply because I have heard it repeated often enough? Where am I asking God to conform to me rather than allowing Him to transform me?

Hebrews 4:12 says, “For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart” (NIV).

That is a much more disruptive description of Scripture than we sometimes give it. The Bible is not merely meant to encourage us, though it absolutely does. It comforts, promises, reminds, and restores, but it also penetrates, judges, exposes, rebukes, and corrects. Sometimes the loving thing God does through His Word is tell me that I am wrong.

And thank God He does.

Because if I can only worship a God who agrees with me, then I have created a god in my own image. If I can remove every command that inconveniences me, reinterpret every truth that confronts me, and retain only the portions of Christianity that make me feel affirmed, I may have assembled something pleasant, but I have not surrendered to Jesus.

Jesus said, “If you love me, keep my commands” (John 14:15, NIV).

Obedience is not how we earn His love or secure our salvation. The gospel is gloriously clear that we are saved by grace through faith, not by our works (Ephesians 2:8–9, NIV). But grace does not make obedience irrelevant. The very next verse says that we are “created in Christ Jesus to do good works” (Ephesians 2:10, NIV).

We do not obey so that God will save us. We obey because He has saved us, because we love Him, and because the Spirit is steadily teaching us to trust that His ways are better than ours.

There will probably always be passages I run toward more eagerly than others. I will happily take the verses about God’s steadfast love, His nearness, His mercy, and the fact that nothing can separate us from His love. I am considerably less likely to embroider “deny yourself” onto a decorative pillow. But I need both. I need the God who comforts me and the God who corrects me because, thankfully, they are the same God.

So yes, give me the charcuterie board. I will happily pick around the olives and take more cheese than would be considered an equitable share (Praise the Lord for cheese).

But when I open the Word of God, I don’t want to approach it looking for the pieces I already know I will like. I want to come willing to be taught, corrected, challenged, comforted, and changed. I want the Holy Spirit to make me more like Christ, including in the places where becoming more like Him requires something in me to die.

Because His Word is not a platter of suggestions offered for my consideration.

His Word is truth.

And sanctification is, in part, learning to trust that the parts that are hardest for me to swallow are still being given to me by a God who is good.

bytaylormcgee