Tortured

When I read the confession, I threw the paper on the floor and screamed, not from my agony, but his. In my mind’s eye, I could see the captive tortured. I could hear his bones crack. I could smell his scorched flesh. I could see him enduring it all; saying nothing except the same words that had branded him as a traitor. The words attributed to him had to be those of another.

The captive in this case was not a person, but a passage of scripture. I did throw a paper to the floor and yell. The paper was not a confession. It was simply some notes for a Bible study I was doing. But I, with either spectacular silliness or a degree of perception, reacted to what was written as if it were incredibly important and fundamentally wrong. The author of the notes was attributing meaning and intent to a challenging verse that tortured the context. He broke the bones, the actual structure of the words. He wrote a “confession” that he insisted was endorsed by the captive verse, and broadcasted it to the world. When I read the words, it was as if I were an unwitting witness to a torture born confession.

I was very upset, but to be clear, I was not offended because I have a different doctrine than the writer. I mostly find agreement and use the resource because it takes the study of scripture very seriously. It’s not that I have a different understanding of the passage. I don’t understand it. It does not easily fit in with my admittedly limited understanding of the grand themes of the Bible. But I am offended by the distortion of the text and context to make it fit into a theology, even an accurate theology. We must not adapt scripture to fit our preconceptions and imagine God to say what we think wise and practical. Or expedient. This is the committed Christian’s chief place of vulnerability to betrayal. But how does this happen?

I came of age in a time when prisoners of war were routinely tortured so that they would sign bogus confessions and publicly defame the country that they served. On TV, I saw gaunt, wooden, hollow-eyed men say things that everyone knew refuted everything they held dear. Yet they confessed to things that were not true. The wounded, broken men spoke broken words, emptied of the conviction that had bled out from of their wounds.

I have also seen the Church suffer the effects of torture in our battle with Satan. Only, in this case, the enemy often torments subtly to obtain small concessions rather than outright betrayal. In the midst of loneliness, thoughts bombard the mind to lower the standard for appropriate companionship. Financial pressure cuts at resolve for integrity. Hunger for church growth gnaws at the truth of the cost of following Christ. Most often, we see the process as being flexible; simplifying; or in the case of the Bible study, fitting scripture into our system of understanding. To accomplish His goal of diminishing God’s Word, Satan may say He will end His torture if we give adherence to a doctrine rather than to Truth; give a plan of salvation instead of a Savior; replace peace with the absence of conflict; talk about Jesus instead of obeying Him; or build a building instead of the Church. Too often we can stand no more and have succumbed to these lies.

I wonder if, when others see and hear us, they sometimes see broken, spiritually gaunt, hollowed eyed people speaking broken words, emptied of the conviction that bled out from their wounds. In this, I remember with hope the promise of the prophet. By His wounds we are healed.

By His wounds I am healed.

Matthew 9:36 Seeing the people, He felt compassion for them, because they were distressed and dispirited like sheep without a shepherd

Jeremiah 17:14 Heal me, O LORD, and I will be healed ; Save me and I will be saved, For You are my praise.