A Meditation on Lift-the-Flap Books and Jesus

I hope you had a lift-the-flap book when you were little. I hope you had several, in fact.

Remember the magic of lifting a flap and discovering a little critter hiding under the bush? Or pulling a paper tab to the left and seeing, like an x-ray, the straw bundles of the first little pig’s house shifting aside to reveal the chubby little porker underneath, momentarily satisfied with his home’s construction? Or—best of all—do you remember the books that expanded into a whole three-dimensional scene when you opened them? Turning a page and seeing a whole glittering kingdom rise up off of the paper was pure magic.

I don’t know what started me thinking about this topic today, but for some reason, lift-the-flap books reminded me of Jesus. Now, I’m not usually one to come up with far-fetched analogies, stretching my comparisons as thin as the gum on the world’s largest bubble. (Just kidding. I did that one on purpose.) But as I thought about these books in relation to Jesus, it rang true in my heart that this is one way I’ve encountered and enjoyed Jesus.

Turning a page and seeing a whole glittering kingdom rise up off of the paper was pure magic.

So here’s what I was thinking: Have you ever been reading the Bible, say in the Old Testament, and come across a story or a passage that was familiar, maybe even a little (dare I say) worn out? I know I have. I tend to skim through stories like that a good deal faster than I should. Why? Because I already know what I’m looking at. It’s a guy who has to build a very big boat. It’s a super long instruction manual for constructing a tabernacle. It’s a fearful leader who blows a horn and knocks down a wall to get into the promised land.

But what I’ve come to see through the years is that those are lift-the-flap moments. When I take the time to let the Spirit tell me the story, I see that there’s much more going on than I assumed. Behind the door of that ark is Jesus, the One in whom we take refuge from the floods of judgment. Behind the curtain of that tabernacle is Jesus, the One who allowed his flesh to be torn so that we could stand in the holiest place before the Father. Behind that fearful leader is Jesus, the greater Joshua, who knew the law of Moses could never grant access to the promised rest, so He led the way Himself.

Behind the door of that ark is Jesus, the One in whom we take refuge from the floods of judgment.

Now, I’m not saying that every nuance of every passage has a one-to-one correlation with Jesus. It would be very tedious indeed to read the Bible through that lens. But I am saying that God is the greatest Author, and what He writes, He writes with intention. He does not overlook details. He does not drop plot points. And he certainly does not belabor his analogies like bubble gum.

So next time I come across a passage that I’m tempted to skim over out of familiarity, I want to stop and look for Jesus instead. The more I track him through the Old Testament, the more I will appreciate Him in the New.

And when I get to Revelation—well, let’s just say that’s a full-page pop up of the place my heart is longing for. And I already know Who I’ll find inside.