Been reading The Myth of Certainty (InterVarsity,1986) by Daniel Taylor. In it, he describes so well how I feel whenever speaking for or writing about the Lord Almighty, the Holy One, the I AM. Taylor says,
“It’s not the prospect of failure that is frightening. What, God forbid, if one should succeed? Imagine a dozen people believing whatever you tell them to believe; imagine a thousand, ten thousand, a countless following. How many times in the wilderness did Moses wonder if that burning bush had just been desert heatstroke?
“Consider the television preacher and how fearfully he is made. I do not abuse him for being on television–it is the highest hill around. I do not complain that he asks for money–he has many barns to build. I allow him even his politics and prejudices (even as I wince when he makes them God’s) because I have politics and prejudices as well. But I do stand amazed at one thing. Where, someone tell me, did he get this burning confidence? Not his confidence before men and women–the psychology of that I can understand–but this confidence before God. Did he talk to a burning bush? Is he certain his sacrifice is not a stench in God’s nostrils? Why are there no signs of ashes on his head? Why does he seem unconcerned with such questions? Even ‘send me’ Isaiah despaired of his unclean lips.”
I doubly love this passage: First, because it’s simply great writing, and second, because it’s exactly how I feel when standing or sitting to speak of or for God. Whether writing or teaching, this is the battle in my mind. How can I do this with any measure of certainty? And yet, how can I not?
Taylor concludes, “And yet there are reasons to speak, even a responsibility to do so.”
And so we speak and teach and write for God, but we do it trembling.