The most pointless dispute of 1999 was whether the new millennium began on January 1, 2000, or one year later. With this New Year's Day, we can consider the matter concluded, if unresolved. Some of my friends were so adamant that nothing was going to happen on January 1, 2000 that I was not sure we were even entering a new year. These were the same people, ironically, who were tied to their pagers in case the Y2K bug wrought havoc. Even if there was not going to be a technological meltdown, there was definite fear from a certain corner that God would bring on the end of the age like a Hollywood spectacular. I recall a couple of my colleagues getting calls from frantic parents about having their children christened. I had to convince one woman that we did not know "the day or the hour" of Jesus' reappearing. There were dire predictions of every kind at easy reach. I wondered if some of the fear was fabricated for effect.

In small doses, fright can be intoxicating. Watch popular children's entertainment: there is usually an element of controlled danger. The omnipresent Harry Potter series banks on it. Roller coasters, literal or figurative, are contests of will over fear and danger. Within bounds, these manageable "survivals" - need I mention a certain blockbuster television show? - confirm our need for confronting the unknown and uncontrollable. Even now I recall from my New Orleans childhood Caribbean maps printed on grocery sacks. Meteorologists would encourage children to track the very hurricanes that might days later flood them out of their homes. In this case, we had a sense of control over a legitimately dangerous situation, and the sensation was electric. Peering into the unknown, exotic, and dangerous - with or without success - is almost a human need. We seek for seeking's sake, and we also seek to find.

Thus is it possible to read another truth in our Declaration of Faith. (You were surely wondering how I would tie this into Universalist theology.) Among the planks we hear of "the trustworthiness of the Bible as containing a revelation from God." I suspect that most people who read this with agreement see it as a limitation of the hurricane-like claims made of the Bible. In other words, Scripture has within it some revelation, and that some parts of Scripture are closer to the mind of God, or more appropriate for our time, than others. This is true. There is another lesson, too; one that both refines the Bible's compass and encourages greater questing and questioning.

The mind of God works through our understanding, and the abilities and limitations of being human. It is possible to describe the Gospel in different ways (or as the Apostle Paul put it, "be all things to all people") because we will hear the same message in differing ways. This is how we can have a diversity of witnesses within the unity of the Spirit. In the same way, God speaks both through what we know, and what we do not yet know. This is a different understanding of the Bible than the literalists hold. They treat the Bible as a flawless and comprehensive instruction manual. All the answers will be there if you search hard enough, and if you read the Bible as literally true once you find the right passage. This way of thinking is alien to me. I do not even read travel guidebooks this way. It makes the Bible an idol, and God's revelation a mechanism. Literalism seems very busy, but rarely living. Barefaced skepticism, however, is a rather poisonous response to literalism. It destroys falsehood and the unseen truth alike, and builds not. I trust at last that God will provide more, not less, wisdom and understanding.

One of my favorite verses in the New Testament is the last one in the Gospel of St. John.

And there are also many other things which Jesus did, the which, if they should be written every one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that should be written. Amen.

As Universalists we can trust the Bible to open new truth to us precisely because God works through our situation to make old stories new. Job's needling friends, the Psalmist's lament, the reality of the "still small voice" amid the noise, the proclamation of Mary's favor, and so much more continue to resonate with daily life. The Bible's truth lies in its continuing truthfulness, and not because it was once thought to be so. The revelation we profess to find in the Bible will continue to leap out of it. It is risky to look there. Being open to seeing ourselves, others, and God in a new way us a calculated risk. Stepping out of our own inner space and into the Biblical story is an adventure in its own right. So many of us have been denounced or derided by its use. So many of us have been taught to fear or crumble before the words themselves. We shall be its liberators. How thrilling is it to find new worlds and new ages, and maps leading to unexplored regions of the Spirit!