A few weeks ago in the early morning hours, between unconsciousness and dawn, I had a vision. Of Max Lucado. He was meditating diligently over what to write in his next denominationally-endorsed, best-selling book.
The first problem was finding a catchy title. Readers respond to creativeness. Should it evoke wondrous anticipation (When God Whispers Your Name) or describe God in seemingly conflicting terms (Gentle Thunder)? For a moment, Demanding Grace appealed to him as a title, but then he remembered that he didn’t believe there were any conditions placed upon grace. Which is what made him so popular in the first place.
“Oh, well,” he sighed, “I don’t really need to have a title or a theme yet. Maybe it’ll come to me after I write a few chapters.” He pulled out a file filled with illustrations that he had accumulated since he completed his last book. Some were anecdotal stories involving his kids. Others were Bible stories he had made modern equivalents out of. Hey! There’s a thought. “If I do this often enough, some day I can publish the Modern Equivalent Bible. It would be a little like the Cotton Patch, only better, since I’m writing it.”
Then he pulled out his “testimonial” file. These consisted of comments from people who had abundantly praised him for his words of wisdom at workshops or who had written letters to share with him some of their difficult struggles. Or to thank him for helping them to overcome them. As he shuffled through some of these, one in particular caught his attention. It was written in “graceful” handwriting. By one who’d seen the light.
“Brother Lucado, I used to be so legalistic, but after reading your books, I feel truly liberated. How could I have been so deluded to think that obedience had anything to do with my salvation? For years I told my denominational brethren that they needed to be baptized to have forgiveness of sins. they needed to be baptized to have forgiveness of sins. Needless to say, they didn’t like me very much. But now that I’ve discovered that Acts 2:38 doesn’t matter any more and that we’re all guests on board the same Fellow-Ship, I’m really enjoying Christianity. After all, if they say God is their Father, that’s good enough for me. Oh, and guess what? All those people who used to hide when they saw me coming like me now. This is so much better than being rejected all the time. It feels good to have so many brethren now. Thanks so much for opening my eyes.”
Letters like these sure compensated for the petty criticisms he received from his legalistic detractors. “I suppose every age must be cursed with a few Pharisees,” he chuckled to himself. Then he made a note to fit into this book a few choice words about Pharisees.
After several minutes of sorting through the files, MA$ had jotted down some notes. “That ought to do for an outline–20 chapters with 20 simple points. Best to stick to the formula. No need to confuse the reader with logical arguments or cumbersome details that might stretch their mental capabilities. Why give them filet mignon when they can only handle strained applesauce?”
Then came the hardest part of all–reading the Bible to find Scriptures to fit the stories. Fortunately, intense study was not necessary for simple points.
(In connection to this article, please read, “Poetic License Gone To Seed”.)