Here’s a thought experiment: if someone offered you £1,000,000 on the condition that you never read the Bible ever again — would you take it?

If you’re someone who believes in the God of the Bible, who believes the Bible is the holy, inspired Word of God, I’ll go ahead and assume that you would turn down that offer. A million quid is a lot of money, but compared to the value of the very Word of God written? It’s just not worth it. If you have a right view of what the Bible is, you’d be a capering fool to accept such a trade. It feels a bit grubby to even consider it, to be honest. Rightly so.

Well, what about this: suppose someone offered you £100, on the condition that you don’t read the Bible today. Just leave it ’til tomorrow, and you’ll get £100. Would you take that deal?

I mean, it’s not like it’s forever. It’s just a day. Maybe you could do with an extra hundred quid; times are tight, after all. Economy’s a bit wobbly. Tempting.

But again, I’ll assume you would still say no. It’s the principle of the thing! No matter how much money, no matter how short a time-span, it’s just plain wrong. It’s still the Word of God! It’s God’s inspired self-revelation! It’s the sure and steadfast testimony of the Holy Spirit concerning the Lord Jesus Christ and the way of salvation through his gospel! How could I trade my access to the Bible for mere money? It’s blasphemous, maybe even idolatrous to consider making such a choice! Even for a day!

After all, doesn’t the psalmist say:

‘In the way of your testimonies I delight

as much as in all riches.’

‘The law of your mouth is better to me

than thousands of gold and silver pieces.’

– Psalm 119:14, 72

… but in fact, if we’re honest, we do skip reading our Bibles, don’t we? Maybe for one day every now and then? Maybe for much longer, and much more often? And we do it for less than £100 at that.

We put off our Bible reading until tomorrow morning, for 30 extra minutes in bed today;

we put it off tonight to watch one more episode of the Netflix show we like — don’t worry, we’ll definitely read two chapters tomorrow to catch up;

or maybe we’ll just get round to reading the Bible later, this afternoon maybe, once we’ve got our head around the tasks for the day, or once we’ve checked our emails to make sure there’s nothing urgent to deal with, once we’ve gotten a headstart on the cleaning, once we’ve done the food shopping, after the kids are in bed, after we’ve caught up on the day with the other half, after we just have a cup of tea and a wee five minutes’ sit down, and now och, I’m too tired at this stage, I won’t be able to focus on what I’m reading anyway. It’s time for bed. I’ll just make sure I do it tomorrow, at some point. Just like I said last night.

I know the challenge of this, believe me. I know the ordinary rhythms and pressures of weekdays and weekends, work and emails and housework, and crowbarring open some space to hear my wife say two uninterrupted sentences in between the clatter and chatter of our two high-energy kids. I know. I’m addressing myself as much as I’m addressing you.

God also knows the pressure of the ordinary. He bears with our weaknesses, with infinite graciousness. I’m not wanting to pile on guilt; only shift your perspective.

Because we know, we know that the Bible is of infinite worth. And we know we’d never dream of trading our access to the Bible for money, no matter how much. But in practice we make the same mistake as Esau, Jacob’s brother, who let the pressing need of a moment overshadow the infinite value of his inheritance as a son of Abraham, and, because he was hungry, sold his birthright for a plate of stew.

Let’s not sell ours for the snooze button and a cuppa.