Friday, October 26, 2012

Thoughts from the Cosmetic Aisle

A couple nights ago I was sent to return some left-behind products to the cosmetics department of the store where I work.  Upon stepping into the first aisle, I found myself surrounded with completely unfamiliar products.  There were rows upon rows of strange powders in small clear cases carefully arranged into racks and sorted by color--even though they were all really just very, very slightly different shades of brown.  There were pencils of various sorts and descriptions, again carefully arranged by indistinguishable shades of black, red, green, or blue.  The lipsticks and nail polish presented similar problems.  Then, there were all sorts of arcane-looking metal and plastic tools.  Finally, there were things there that I'd never even known existed: false eyelashes, plastic fingernails with break-off tabs like the models I assembled with plastic cement when I was a kid...

I found my way around eventually and started putting the products in my handbasket back in their places on the shelves (it really helped that all those color-sorted products also had numerical codes written on the back to help me tell that the foundation I held was "sand" colored instead of "sunkissed," which are visually indistinguishable).  However, as I worked, though, I couldn't shake the feeling of strangeness and revulsion.  I was trying hard not to imagine how one would go about using glue-on eyelashes or a sharp, metal probe called a "cuticle remover" (or the accidents that could result from the same).  Even when I managed that successfully, I kept imagining a woman who used all of these things: false eyelashes, plastic fingernails and toenails, penciled-in eyebrows, layers of foundation, mascara, and lipstick, every inch of skin shaved, plucked, waxed, prodded, and probed...a woman who was more artificial than natural.  Worse, I imagined a woman who might think she needed all of that: a woman who was so convinced of her ugliness that she believed she needed to cover every inch of herself in a thick mask of made-in-China plastics, powders, and glazes in order to be presentable.  That thought made me feel sick at heart.  If I knew such a girl, I would spray her with a waterhose until she was clean from all the makeup and artificial junk, till she was just herself: genuine, real, unassuming, and beautiful.  Like many men, I know that women are more beautiful without any makeup on.  People are more attractive when they're real and not putting on a show.

Now, if you're a woman and you're reading this (and wearing makeup), please don't think I'm judging you and your choices.  They are your own.  If you prefer to use makeup, if you think you need some in order to look the way you want to, far be it from me to say what you should and shouldn't do, what makes you look better or worse.  You know that far better than I!  But those were my thoughts while I walked the cosmetics aisle, and I don't think it was by accident I was there.  God was trying to tell me something about the way He sees me.  Every day, I am tempted to look at my life, my heart, my feelings, thoughts, and desires, and say, "Eww, I can't let God catch me looking like this.  I've got to prune this, get rid of that, cover all of this over, and mask it all in spiritual practices x, y, and z."  There's nothing wrong with makeup, and there's nothing wrong with spiritual practices, but what I'm tempted to do is make a mask, an artificial self, whereby I can be presentable to God.  I'm tricked into thinking that without a mask, I'm repulsive: that if God saw me as I really am, He'd turn away from me.  But the truth is God saw me as I really was before I knew Him, when I was at my absolute worst...and He loved me.  He had compassion on me and took me in.  When I was dead and polluted with blood, He said to me, "Live!" (Ezekiel 16:3-14).  When I was ugly as I could be, He had compassion on me, and made me beautiful, and made me His own.  Now, He sees me as I can never quite see myself, as His beloved, as His radiant and worthy Bride (Revelation 3:4).  When I walked the cosmetics aisle and ruefully thought, Women are more attractive without makeup, He agreed: Christians shine brighter without their masks.

I know that Christian "makeup" was a big thing in my past.  My relationship with God was more about keeping on a mask than being real with Him.  But God has His own version of a waterhose and, thankfully, is none too shy about using it.  There are still times and places where masks and makeup wait for me, but my heart before Him is clean, wet, dripping, laughing, bright, and beautiful.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

God and Politics

They say there are two things you must never, ever discuss with strangers at a party: religion and politics.  To broach these subjects is not necessarily rude in itself, but views held in these areas are held very strongly and you're apt to have the unpleasant surprise of finding yourself discussing them with someone who holds a polar opposite view from yourself.  If that happens, its assumed that because of how political and religious views are so tightly held, the two of you are doomed to either awkward silence or a scathing verbal exchange as you attempt to beat your view into your opponent.  Thus, never discuss religion or politics.

What's worse is a combination of the two.  This is what I've experienced several times recently.  I consider myself both a Christian and a Republican and hold them to be relatively unrelated things (that is, I allow that a Christian could be just as good a Christian as I and yet be a Democrat as well).  However, recently, I've heard from a couple different sources that this is not so.  In fact, in order to be a good Christian, one must necessarily be a Democrat.

It's said in different ways.  One friend put it mildly, "I'll be voting Democratic because I think they're more Christlike."  One posted a quote that put it bluntly, "If you don't want tax dollars helping the sick and poor, then it's time to stop saying you want a government based on Christian values."  A third went much farther, saying that if any Christian considered him or herself a member of the "religious right" "you should not call yourself that ...because they are antichrist[,] doing the opposite of what Jesus would do. They push law and judgment instead grace and love...".  So my friends have a broad range of views and ways to put them, but a common theme emerges among them.  Being liberal (or at the very least, not being conservative) is being a good Christian because (1) you don't force moral law on people, and (2) you support government initiatives in social justice.  Presumably, these two are both things that Christ did that are central to His character and mission.  If you don't support them or, worse, oppose them, then you are, therefore, not a good Christian.

To say I'm a bit put-off by this stance would be putting it mildly.  I think it's just fine to be fully convinced of your political position.  It's good, in fact.  I think it's also perfectly fine to draw certain points of your political position from your faith--in fact, another good thing!  The problem comes when we take our political view and project it back on Christ and tell the world or the people around us, "Christ was a member of such-and-such a party.  Christ would have voted this way.  To be a member of this political party and support them is more Christian than to vote otherwise."

In reality, Christ was not and is not affiliated with any political party.  There were no political parties comparable to our own in 1st Century Israel, and the parties that did exist (primarily the Pharisees, Sadducees, Herodians, and Zealots) could not claim Jesus as a member.  He offended all of them equally.  It's well known that Christ told the Pharisees they were hypocrites.  He gave the same to the Sadducees, and to add insult to injury His rising from the dead disproved one of their core beliefs--that there was no resurrection (see Acts 23:6, where Paul effectively uses this split between Pharisees and Sadducees as a diversion).  Herodians hated him because Jesus joined John the Baptist in condemning their leader (King Herod) for his gross sexual immorality.  Zealots hated Him because He paid taxes to the Roman oppressors and taught His followers to do the same, thereby supporting the regime the Zealots saw as the embodiment of all evil.  Also, when they tried to make Him king, He ran (John 6:15).  Jesus was completely outside their system and above their petty politics.

Thus, when we say that Christ was a member of party X or would have voted for Y, or supported political agenda Z, we are simply liars going about trying to inflate our own egos into hammers with which we can beat other people down.  It is ironic to me that I have received this treatment from three people who say the reason they think being Democratic is being Christian is that Christ was loving.  Are political ego-hammers loving too?  Apparently so.

But someone will object: "Christ really did love social justice and hate restrictive moral law!"  Since social justice and restrictive moral law are still issues on the political table today, logically, we should be able to say that Christ's stand on them would remain unchanged.  That is, assuming the context and nature of these questions has not changed.

As I said, I am a Republican and as such I oppose Democratic government program for social justice as a general rule.  I do not do this because I hate poor people and want to see them starve.  I do not do this because I am opposed to social justice in general.  In fact, I support social justice--but I don't think it's the government's job.  I think it's the individual's job.  The government is ill-equipped to dispense social justice in my opinion.  It has its own massive bills (and ginormous debt) to pay.  Paying for social justice and welfare programs keeps it from its central responsibilities to public defense, security, safety, education, and enterprise (notice that as our government is splurging on welfare and social justice programs it's cutting defense and education budgets, laying off policemen, letting infrastructure fall apart, closing fire stations, and pushing the highest corporate tax rate in the world which tops out at over 50 cents of every dollar earned).  It's also mired in layers of bureaucracy which make it difficult for the government to respond to social justice issues quickly and effectively--as well as making it extremely easy to take advantage of and con.  Individual donors are less susceptible--if not immune--to many of these pitfalls.  As an additional benefit, individual philanthropists--like the poor--are always and will always be with us.  The government, if it keeps spending this way, will be tottering on the edge of complete financial collapse, just like Greece, before I turn 40.  I therefore oppose government social justice because I see myself supporting a truer and more lasting version it attempts unsuccessfully to replace.

Would Christ agree with me?  I have no idea.  Certainly, Christ advocated charity to the poor.  However, Christ never once said this had to come in the form of government hand-outs.  He always advocated charity from individuals who had wealth to give, as did all the authors of the New Testament.  Yet this does not mean that Christ would necessarily hold the same position in America today.  Remember, He and the other New Testament Christians lived in Rome 2,000 years ago.  A lot has changed.  For one, we now have a government that actually sees social justice and welfare programs as serious issues that must be dealt with all the time.  Roman Emperors gave them passing notice, but many were too busy conquering the world, each other, and appointing their favorite horse to the Senate.  No stance of Christ on the issue of government welfare or social justice programs can be found recorded in scripture.  While my view may be traceable to my faith and I am fully convinced of it, other views may be equally valid and equally Christian.

The issue of law is a little clearer in my mind.  To me, it has nothing to do with party lines and everything to do with an understanding of what a law is.  My Democratic friends are forever reminding me: "You can't legislate morality."  But a law is just that: a moral conviction legislated.  We have laws against murder because we (the majority--who make the laws) believe murder is morally wrong.  We have laws against polygamy because we believe it is morally wrong to have more than one wife.  We have laws against reckless driving because we believe it is morally wrong to endanger the lives of others by one's mishandling of a motor vehicle.  Behind every single law is a moral conviction.  That being said, there is nothing at all wrong with legislating moral convictions in general.  The question really arises around certain moral convictions that are in dispute and it's not (properly) a question of can morality be legislated or not (it certainly can), but to what extent it should be governed by law.  For example, I believe failure to worship the one true God constitutes a moral offense to Him by denying His nature--that is, I believe it is morally wrong. Yet even so, I do not think we ought to pass a law requiring worship of God!  It should be given freely and if it is to be given freely people must be left free of law so that people can make their own decision.  To bring it closer to home, I believe abortion is morally equivalent to manslaughter since I believe a human being becomes a human being when they have the unique genetic code that sets them apart as their own individual human person (this happens at conception).  Many Christians feel the same, but are also torn by the difficult situations a woman choosing abortion might be faced with (poverty, rape, incest, threat to her own life).  Should a law therefore be passed outlawing abortion or no?  Should choice or law reign in this moral quandary?  I believe law is the correct answer here.

But again, would Christ agree with me?  The Bible does not say.  Nowhere in the Bible is abortion clearly addressed.  While it's true that Christ opposed man-made religious laws (such as the Pharisee's tradition that God would be okay with you dishonoring your parents if you did it as a part of dedication to temple service: Mark 7:10-13, a belief which--on a sidenote--finds its companion in the teachings of many modern cults which encourage adherence to the group and obedience to its leaders over honor to even believing parents), Christ did not speak on civil law at any point that I can recall.  Paul, in Romans 13, taught obedience to civil law, but I can think of no Christian in scripture who ever talked about what civil law was or was not to be.  The reason was really quite simple: Christians of the day were in no position to make civil law.  The lawmakers of the day were Romans and Jews, and they were much too busy trying to kill the Christians to bother about what laws the Christians thought were and were not good ideas.  The only time the Bible speaks directly to civil law is in the Old Testament, where God lays down the civil law of a theocratic Israel.  We do not live in a theocracy now, so there's no telling whether Christ would uphold those laws in our altered circumstances or not.  While I believe my position is informed by my faith and I am convinced of it, other positions may equally be drawn from equal Christian faith and may be equally valid.

Religion and politics are closely held and interrelated--and that's not necessarily bad!  What is bad is when we take a dogmatic position on murky issues in either field and put our view forward as the only valid view that can be held.  What's worse is when we combine the two fields and say, "You can only be a good Christian if you agree with my politics."  When the Bible doesn't clearly back our particular political view, we are simply wrong to judge the faithfulness of others and puff up the self-righteousness of ourselves based on politics.

Perhaps if we avoided these things and held our political and religious convictions with a more open hand, we would have no need to ban the discussion of religion and politics at parties.

Friday, October 12, 2012

Thoughts from a Motorcycle Accident

Today, I witnessed a fatal motorcycle accident.  Two bikers passed me and a bunch of other cars and attempted to pass in front of the semi that was leading the pack.  They managed to speed past him, but a sharp bend in the road came next.  One biker made the turn.  The other's bike overturned during the turn, leaving him to slide into the guardrail.  He was dead at the scene.

How quickly life can end!  How suddenly!  One minute, that man was blazing along on his motorcycle, rushing past cars, heading for the freeway--so full of life!  The next, he lay dead with his buddy doing the sign of the cross over him.  Life is like a vapor.  If this is the life we live, so fragile, so easily taken away, we should value it, each moment.  We should never miss an opportunity to show love for another or receive love ourselves, for every opportunity could be our last.

And what God do we envision ruling over this world, where life is so short?  Where one biker makes it and the other doesn't?  Where the simple laws of physics can be so brutally unforgiving?  If we imagine a god who is so omnibenevolent that he wouldn't hurt a fly, we must confess he is a god very much powerless in our world.  If we imagine a cruel, heartless god, we must confess he has some stroke of madness, for the other biker lived, unharmed, as did all the other motorists in that line of cars and trucks.  God is neither cruel nor kind.  He is good.  He cares, and he will be with the family and friends as they grieve.  Yet He also judges.  None of us are innocent, not the biker who died, not the one who lived, not even the people in their cars.  Judgment comes for us suddenly, and it can be as unforgiving as physics.  When Jesus heard of the Jews on whom a tower had collapsed, He did not mourn such a horrible accident.  He did not mock and laugh.  He warned: "Do you suppose those men were worse sinners than yourselves?  No, and if you don't repent, you will also perish" (Luke 13:4-5, paraphrased).  He cared enough to warn us, to ask us to repent, but He is stern enough to carry out justice without remorse if we refuse.  He is a God both fearsome and gentle, loving and terrifying.

Monday, September 24, 2012

Does God Burn People in Hell?

There's a lot of controversy about this question.  A fellow Christian on Facebook has written very passionately about it and begins his analysis with, what I think, is a series of questions that cuts right to the heart of the matter.
 Do they believe a God that would send His one and only Son to die a torturous and humiliating death would create a place that would be used for TORTURE for ALL eternity? Does the character of God come off as a tyrant who enjoys hearing the screams of people who have decided not to worship Him? Would this sound like a way to "glorify" Him as a loving and giving Father? Or does this sound like a way to de-glorify [sic] Him as a mean and unmerciful tyrant?
I'm sure, from these leading questions, you understand the writer would answer a definite "no" to the question in this post's title.  From my previous post on the topic, you can be sure I disagree with him.  However, we do agree on this: what we believe about Hell reflects what we believe about God.  If we believe that Hell does not exist at all, then we confess a god who winks at injustice, even on the grand scales we humans have committed it.  If we say that Hell exists but that God doesn't send people there or punish them, then we confess a god who is not in control of our world or our fates and is either powerless or unmotivated to own the vengeance he has claimed as his own (Romans 12:19).  If we say that Hell is a place where innocents burn, then we profess a god who indeed is a monster.  But if we agree with the Bible that Hell is a place where God pours out His wrath on the wicked, then we confess a God who is powerful, good, and just--however hard we may find His justice to rectify with our own ideas of our inherent goodness.

First of all, let's not dodge the questions, leading as they are.  The first is really telling, the most critical, I think: do we believe that God's character is capable of creating a place of eternal torture, given the fact that He sent His only Son to suffer death on the cross?  I think the answer is in the question.

For eternity past, the Son lived in perfect love, harmony, and union with the Father.  He was (and is) God and sat enthroned in Heaven enjoying all the glories and pleasures that Heaven can provide.  But in time, He humbled Himself for the incarnation.  He took upon Himself the form of a slave (Philippians 2:7), a human with a brief and painful life.  He suffered every evil that we suffer: He was a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief (Isaiah 53:3).  Let's not underestimate the adversity of this alone.  He who is the source of all joy wept.  He who is omnipotent grew tired and slept.  He who provides food for all creatures everywhere knew hunger and thirst.  Then, add in the temptations.  The Bible says that Jesus was tempted in every way just as we are (Hebrews 4:15).  Imagine!  Jesus saw Satan fall from Heaven like lightning, defeated before His archangel Michael and His mighty army (God does not appear to have taken part in the struggle directly, from the account in Revelation 12:7-9).  In the book of Job, Satan even had to ask God's permission to cause mayhem and misery--such was His power over him.  But on earth the roles are almost reversed.  Jesus staggers, ravaged by hunger, thirst, and exhaustion while Satan stands, taunting Him: "If you really are the Son of God, prove it!"  Doesn't it strike you as torture for the Son of God to endure such humiliation and suffering?

And we haven't even come to the cross.  We have made no mention of the cruelest form of capital punishment ever devised, by which men in agony were publicly hung to suffocate slowly over the course of days under their own body weight.  We have not spoken of the scourging which disfigured him beyond human recognition and from which (alone) men frequently died.  We have not spoken of the terrible suffering in Gethsemane, where He sweat drops of blood (a known medical condition called hematidrosis resulting from extreme levels of stress).  It can only be described as torture, torture inflicted on God's own Son, according to God's own pleasure (Isaiah 53:10-11) and deliberate plan (Acts 2:23).

If God is capable of deliberately planning such horrific things for His own Son, whom He loves and with whom He is pleased, what is he capable of doing to His enemies?  I would say eternal torment doesn't sound like a stretch.

So, God is unquestionably capable of torture, having deliberately planned it for His own Son.  What then of the next question: is God a sadistic tyrant who delights in the suffering of innocents who simply "decided not to worship Him?"  Let's think about this.  First of all, let's acknowledge who it is we're talking about: it's God here.  If we're talking about not worshiping God, we're talking about essentially denying His identity as God and attributing it to someone or something else.  It is not at all the same as me refusing to bow down at your feet, since we are both humans, made equals however society may place us.  It is me treating you as though you did not exist and carrying on as if your computer's keyboard were you.  Even that falls far short for, again, we are equals.  You did not create me.  You do not know every facet of my being; you do not provide for my every need and uphold me with your power.  God does all of that for us, and when we "decide not to worship Him" we commit the gravest affront to His divine nature that is possible by denying its existence and ascribing its attributes to something else entirely, something totally unworthy.  There is no real human parallel to this sin, but the Bible comes the closest when it compares it to adultery, a woman leaving her husband to bribe every Tom, Dick, and Harry to bed her and be her new love (Ezekiel 16, for God's view of human infidelity in worship, portrayed as a story about a man and his unbelievably adulterous wife--but be warned, it is graphic).  If this were the only crime that those who burn in Hell were guilty of, would they not deserve the punishment?

But let's be realistic here: is there or has there ever been a human being who lived a faultless life, except for not worshiping God?  Realistically, no.  Even we can acknowledge that with our own trite saying: "Nobody's perfect."  The Bible has a rather more drastic (and accurate) way of putting it, quoting from itself in Romans 3:10-18:
"as it is written: 'None is righteous, no, not one; no one understands; no one seeks for God.  All have turned aside; together they have become worthless; no one does good, not even one.'  'Their throat is an open grave; they use their tongues to deceive.'  'The venom of asps is under their lips.'  'Their mouth is full of curses and bitterness.'  'Their feet are swift to shed blood; in their paths are ruin and misery, and the way of peace they have not known.'  'There is no fear of God before their eyes.'"
Before God, even our attempts at righteousness are tainted, filthy rags (Isaiah 64:6).  We are so far from the inherently innocent people we imagine ourselves to be!  Viewed through God's all-piercing and perfect gaze, we all rank of the same level of repellent evil that we perceive in Hitler.  I don't think that anyone for a moment would argue that Hitler doesn't deserve to burn in Hell.  So the question then becomes something much different: is God capable of dispensing justice as He sees fit, and if so does He take pleasure in it?

Unquestionably, yes.  The Bible says in Psalm 135:6 that God does whatever He pleases "in the heavens and on the earth," then goes on to enumerate His judgments on Egypt and various unbelieving nations as among the things that He was apparently pleased to do.  Jeremiah 9:34 further lists justice alongside steadfast love and righteousness as the three things in which God delights.  To be sure, as 2 Peter 3:9 famously states, God would much rather the wicked repented.  But if they do not repent, God is totally capable of dealing out justice by burning them in Hell as they deserve.  Does such a thing glorify Him?  He certainly doesn't seem to be ashamed of it.  In fact, Jesus (God in the flesh) talks about Hell quite a bit and His Apostle, Paul, talks more about Hell than he does about Heaven.

So let's go after the titular question directly: does God send people to Hell?  Let me answer that question with another question: in the Bible, is there any other way to wind up in Hell?  In the New Testament, in the KJV, the word Hell appears 23 times.  Twelve of those times, someone is being cast, thrust, or sent to Hell. Three times it is directly said that the one doing the casting is God (the other verses are in passive voice and leave the actor unspecified).  Another of the 23 verses said that it is Christ, the Alpha and Omega, who holds the keys to Hell.  If God is the one doing the casting and controlling the gates, then how would one get into Hell unless God threw Him there?  Yes, God sends people to Hell.  Our sins are our own choice, and it for them we are sent there, but let us make no mistake in Who does the sending.  God is the judge, and it is He who condemns, as every parable Jesus ever told mentioning Hell bears out.  He told many, and in each of them God is the one who casts out the wicked--they do not voluntarily cast themselves out.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Psalm 139, Part One: Known

To the Choirmaster, a Psalm of David
O Lord, you have searched me and known me!  You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar.  You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways.  Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether.
--Psalm 139:1-4
Psalm 139 has always been one of my favorites.  It's very comforting, when you take it altogether.   Sometimes it seems to be the only passage I can read: short, sweet, and uplifting like a candy bar.  Sometimes, I feel bad about it, as if it really is just eating a candy bar.  Too sweet, too sugary, too little nutrition.  I ought to be deep in the "meat" of the Word--a T-bone stake of theological treatise from Hebrews or somewhere.  Instead, here I am stuffing a cheesy little passage like Psalm 139 in my face, the spiritual equivalent of a fat little kid that only eats junk food.

But if you think about it, are there really any more or less relevant passages of scripture?  Doesn't the Bible say, "All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be competent, equipped for every good work" (2 Timothy 3:16-17)?  If so, Psalm 139 is a part of scripture, and thereby as divinely inspired as any other part of the Bible, and is also profitable for all the things necessary to train a man up in godliness.  The part about "milk" and "meat" in Hebrews 5 and 1 Corinthians 3 seems to refer more to carnal instruction (do this, don't do that, etc) verses instruction in spiritual truth.  Psalm 139 doesn't contain one word of carnal instruction: therefore as short and sweet as it may be, it is what the Bible calls, "spiritual meat."

So here's the truth from the first four verses of Psalm 139.  I am known.  Completely, intimately, and thoroughly known by God.  He has "searched me" and knows everything about me.  He knows my habits, where I live, where I work, where I go, when, and who with.  He knows even when I break those habits and do something out of the ordinary.  He knows when I sit down and when I get up.  He even knows, thoroughly knows, all my thoughts, everything I intend to say and why, before I even open my mouth.

To be honest, the idea of someone, anyone, knowing me that well is frightening.  There is a lot of stuff I do, stuff I think, that I'm not proud of.  A lot I think would, if it got out, turn my closest friends against me.  Further, knowledge is power, and to be known by someone is to be totally at their mercy, naked before them.  Just ask any blackmailer.  Of course, the illustration isn't perfect.  A blackmailer can merely defame you by exposing what he or she knows.  I am known by God, and if He pleases, He can destroy me body and soul in Hell for what He knows of me.  Anyone who never feels a measure of terror and fear before God is either a fool or imagines God to be altogether a different sort of being than He is (less powerful, more distant, or chained into total passivity and harmlessness by a strange distortion of kindness).

But, there is the flip side.  While it is truly terrifying to think of anyone knowing me like that and holding that kind of power over me, there is a part of me that longs for it.  Power can be used to harm or heal.  Knowledge can be used against me, but it could also be used for me.  The kind words and compliments of a stranger are nice, of course, but they don't really known me.  They don't see me as I am.  But if an intimate friend gives the same compliment, seeing more of my character, having lived with me day in and day out...then it means more.  And if God, who sees me and knows me entirely were to actually like me...well, nothing could be greater (and the Bible says He does).  Imagine what He could do with that kind of intimate knowledge?  Family members and friends may pry for months trying to figure out one's desires so that they can buy an appropriate gift at Christmas.  God doesn't need to pry, He simply knows everything about me.  If He wanted to give a gift, it would always be absolutely perfectly suited.  If He wanted to give direction and instruction, He would always be spot on.  If He wanted to give comfort, consolation, or compliments, He would always be absolutely on the mark.  He knows me.  He understands me.  To be known and understood is a fundamental human desire, just as to be naked in public is a fundamental human fear.  God fulfills that desire because He knows, He understands.  The next verses tell us how He uses that knowledge...

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

God's Best

I read the introduction to an essay on leadership someone linked to this morning, alleging that in it the writer claimed to be a modern-day apostle.  Whether such a claim is made or not or whether or not (if made) it is true ("apostle" does just mean one who is sent, so it might equate to our missionaries--though obviously no one today could claim to be one of the Twelve) I don't yet know.  I haven't read that far, to be honest.  Maybe when I do I'll talk about it and post a link here to the original article.

What I did read in the introduction already had me bothered.  The below quote is just over 200 words, so my time at a publishing house tells me that it falls under fair use:
Israel could be spiritually lazy with a king. Without a king they all had to look up, even in recognizing the prophets or judges (leaders) for their time. With a kingship there is automatic lineage. Automatically the elders [sic] son is next in line to rule, control, and direct. Without the kingship plan each individual could be chosen for leadership. Anyone could be a Gideon found grinding out his grain when the Lord called him for action. Each man had to voluntarily follow into the battles. Under a king you were conscripted. Under the kingship program man was king when God was to be looked on as King alone. God wanted the fuller part. Not only is that more glorifying to Him, but it is more advantageous for all the people. But the people wanted to be more like the heathen around them. How sad, but of course God in His love still did great things in that situation.

We do not need to belabor the point. God still worked with kings in the Old Testament (O.T.), but it was not His best plan.

Israel had many years before they evolved into certain patterns that were not God's best. Like Israel, God's people in the Church Age have moved in similar ways.
--Leadership: Elders and Apostles by Jim McCotter and Dennis Clark 

To start with, there's some historical inaccuracy in this.  First of all, Israel doesn't seem to have lived well with "spiritual laziness" at any point in their history--whether in the book of Judges or the books of Kings, forsaking the Lord tended to end rather badly for them (not that that ever stopped them from doing it).  Second, the eldest son did not "automatically" ascend to the throne after his father.  The Old Testament records numerous disputed successions and even several outright coups.  The son to ascend to the throne was not always the eldest either, as with Solomon's succession (he was actually a fairly late-comer to David's enormous family, though he was the oldest living son of Bathsheba and David).

But laying that aside, there's the bigger issue of God's best.  That one applies to us today.  Here, the writer asserts plainly that the monarchy was "not God's best" for Israel.  It was "not His best plan," though "God in His love still did great things in that situation."  Israel started out in the center of God's A-Plan, it seems, but they decided to scrap it, get themselves a king, and wound up stuck with God's second-best fallback plan for the rest their nation's independent existence.  Poor Israel.

Poor us.  The writer's transition makes it clear he thinks Israel isn't the only one capable of doing this, nor non-Christians.  The elect, "God's people," can, "like Israel," move away from God's best.  We, collectively and as individuals, can miss out on God's plan for our lives and wind up stuck in some muddle of whatever He "in His love" can work in that situation (which, while it might be "great" will not be "God's best").

Think about this for a minute, because if it's true, it's frightening.  God has a plan for your life.  That's clear and Biblical.  "All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be" (Psalm 139:16).  But if you screw up, you could wind up not living even one of them.  You could wind up stuck in some sub-prime life, like a homeowner paying an "underwater" mortgage on a home that's no longer worth what they got it for.  God will still love you.  God will still do good--maybe even great--things through you and for you.  But God's A-Plan for your life?  That's gone.  You threw off His plan and now all that is lost and you're stuck with second-best blessings, like Esau coming back to find Jacob stole his firstborn birthright.  Hopefully, there's something tossed in to the end of Plan-B that let's you get back to Plan A again, or you're screwed for life, sucker--and so am I.

I mean, what would it take to throw off God's A-Plan?  Apparently not much.  Israel managed to do it just by organizing a monarchy, like those of their neighbors.  God directed the appointment of the king and all, but God's A-Plan was blown from the moment they decided they needed a king.  Who knows what "God's people" in the "Church Age" have done to screw ourselves over.  What about Adam and Eve?  All they did was take a bite from the wrong tree and--BLAM--there goes God's best for all Creation (you seriously didn't think the Fall was God's Plan-A, did you?).  And since you and I sin in ways greater and lesser than Israel and Eve every single day...yep, we're probably down to the triple Z plan by now.  I know I certainly must be.

If, that is, we can move away from God's best for our lives.

Consider it from God's eternal perspective.  Look back at some of the language in the above paragraphs.  If this is true, if God's best--God's plans--can be derailed by simple decisions from our end, God is in a heap of trouble.  We all sin.  We all make mistakes.  We commit these things by the bucketload, and there are over 7 billion of us on Earth right now, doing nothing but throwing God's plans into utter chaos.  God must have a list of back-up plans long enough to circle the universe--twice--just in order to keep up with our shenanigans.  He must just barely be in control: struggling to steer us all for good while we constantly tug the wheel and nudge the car on to ever bumpier back roads (and into occasional trees).

The problem is that this doesn't seem to be the God of the Bible.  If there's one thing that seems to define God in the Bible, it is that He is in charge.  He is God!  How many times does He say that, in the book of Isaiah alone?  I don't know that I could count them.  What does the Bible say is capable of deferring or derailing God's plans?  Nothing.  The Bible says such an occurrence is strictly impossible.  "Our God is in the heavens; He does whatever He pleases" (Psalm 115:3).  "Whatever the Lord pleases, He does, in heaven and in earth, in the seas and in all deeps" (Psalm 135:6).  Indeed, to prevent Him from doing so, one would have to be greater than Him.  But no one is.  No one can stand against Him.  "The Lord of hosts has sworn:  'As I have planned, so shall it be, and as I have purposed, so shall it stand,...'  For the Lord of hosts has purposed, and who will annul it? His hand is stretched out, and who will turn it back?" (Isaiah 14:24-27).  Perhaps if we think our name is on a list that answers those last two questions, then we can worry about ruining God's plans for our lives.

Some may say at this point, "Well, yes, that is God.  He is all-sovereign and all that.  But you see, God gives us free-will.  Of our own free-will, we can sin and leave what He's planned for us.  We aren't greater than Him, of course, but He gives us free-will enough to upset His plans."  It makes for a nice theological argument, perhaps, but it still isn't Biblical.  The Bible does treat man as a creature with free-will (as he is held responsible for what he does), but at the same time it pointedly includes all mankind in being under the absolute, unbreakable sovereignty of God.  "The mind of man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps" (Proverbs 16:9).  "The lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the Lord" (Proverbs 16:33--for all us gamers).  "Many are the plans in a man's heart, but the council of the Lord will be established" (Proverbs 19:21).  "Man's steps are ordained by the Lord; how then can man understand his way?" (Proverbs 20:24).  "The king's heart is like channels of water in the hand of the Lord; He turns it wherever He wishes" (Proverbs 21:1).  Even evil deeds and people are not excepted.  The Lord intends Joseph's brother's evil actions for good (Genesis 50:20).  The Assyrian kings murder, slaughter, and conquer, boosting themselves in their prowess and the power of their gods--but the God of Israel says their boasting is absurd: they are like an ax in His hand and it is He who has ordained their bloody conquest (Isaiah 10:15).  Even Satan, in all his evil and rebellion, must ask God's permission to cause havoc (Job 1:12 and 2:6).

Certainly, the God of the Bible is in control.  He does not have a list of contingencies He has to keep striking off as we shoot down His favorite plans with our sinful antics.  He has one plan.  That is the plan, and unless we think we can arm-wrestle Him and win, that is the plan that is going to come about and is coming about even now.  The only question then, is does this divine plan represent "God's best?"  In answer, I pose another question: is there any conceivable reason why it would not be God's best?  Given what we know about the sovereignty of God and His love for us, He has absolutely no need to pick a second-best plan, no need to settle for anything.  He can do (will do, and has done) exactly as He pleases, whatever He pleases, and He loves us literally more than life itself (more than His life--which is saying something: as God, His life is awesome).  Does that really look like the bio of somebody who's going to settle for a so-so plan for your life?  He's God.  He doesn't want to settle, and He doesn't have to either.  Why should He?  So, if He has a plan for our lives, you can bet it is His best: His A-Plan.  And if He is the sovereign God the Bible declares Him to be, then you can bet that, no matter how many mistake's you've made, that plan is still in effect, still unfolding in your life, and hasn't even skipped a beat.

That's not to say, of course, that God has to relish every moment of His A-Plan.  Jesus clearly did not look forward to dying on the cross, but God planned this from the very beginning, even foretelling it right after the Fall (Genesis 3:15).  God is "not wishing that any should perish," but in the end He will cast into Hell "everyone whose name has not been written before the foundation of the world in the book of life" (2 Peter 3:9 and Revelation 13:8).  Let's be clear about one thing: not every moment of God's best is going to feel best--not for you, not for God.  Not every moment of the best parenting, the best marriage, or even the best food is pure bliss either--and I think it's intentionally that way.  God could have made a plan where every moment would have been sunshine and roses for everybody, but He didn't.  He made a plan where everybody got hurt at one point or another.  Yet He still made the best plan, and none of the hurts change that or shake His control.

I think, if we realize this--if I realize this--it will change the way we look at life and at ourselves.  If God truly is in control and truly is good and truly loves us (choose: "D, all of the above"), then His plan has already accounted for all of our mistakes, all of our sins, all of the just plain weird and stupid things about us we think couldn't possibly factor in to God's plan in any constructive manner: God has planned for them all, and they are all included in His best (He could have designed your life without any of these things, He could have prevented you from making any given mistake or committing any given sin: He chose not to).  Yes, our sins are still black, our suffering is still real.  So is the suffering of Christ.  But the stars shine best in the deepest darkness, and so also I think the brilliance of God's best is that He sets the glories of our lives and indeed of all Creation in the midst of inky blackness.  It is all a part of God's best for us.  Even our sins, God turns about in His plan to bring good into our lives.  Remember how the Israelites rejected God's direct rule over them and wanted a monarchy just like everybody else (1 Samuel 8:7)?  God used that to bring David to the throne, and Solomon, his son, by which the Israelites knew a prosperity they'd never imagined.  And God loved it.  He established David's line forever (1 Chronicles 17:2) and used it to bring Christ into the world, the ultimate heir of the throne of David.  If Israel had really drifted from "God's best" when they made that decision, you'd think He'd correct it at some point instead of etching it in stone as a part of the plan He'd made before He began Creation.  The truth is, they didn't.  God didn't like their rejection, but He knew it was coming, He'd allowed it to enter the picture, and He'd planned accordingly so that even Israel's rejection played right into His hand.

Applied to my own life, this is an immense comfort to me.  Satan is the accuser, and while Jesus came so that we could share in His joy, and have it to the full (John 15:11), Satan is the thief who comes in to steal and destroy that joy.  When I sin, he is waiting with a laundry-list of accusations.  At the top of that list is this: "You idiot, you just blew God's plan for your life.  Now you're stuck with second-best.  You'll never have what He promised now."  But God is true, and God is sovereign.  His best stands, and I can withstand the Devil with that.  Even when I haven't sinned, I sometimes feel like my life is on the fast track to nowhere.  I'm a college graduate here, living with my folks and working as a cashier.  Really?  Where's the house and the big-bucks career I was supposed to have by now?  What about the mission to deepest-darkest Africa that I was supposed to lead?  Shouldn't I at least be heading back from a Summer Infusion to a semester spent with my small group at church?  Did I miss a turn somewhere?  Have I stepped away from God's best?  Satan would step up in a heartbeat and answer yes, anything to throw me off, get me down, and discourage me in my relationship with God.  But God is sovereign even here, in my old room at home, on my day off from standing behind a register, and He has a plan for my life--which is unfolding even now--and it is the best.  This is God's best, and I will be able to see it as such in time, when everything has unfolded and the full skein of God's work appears in all its glory.  I can rest in that.  I can set my seal to that.  God is true, faithful, good, and in control, and this is His best.  I can enjoy that!

I hope you can, too.

Sunday, September 9, 2012

Why We Should Go to Church

Whenever I would think of this question, my mind would immediately go to the command of Hebrews 10:25, "Do not forsake the assembling of yourselves together, as the manner of some is."  I imagined this as a stern command of the apostle, with a disparaging glance to the some who have forsaken this necessary practice.

But why was it necessary?  Must we attend a church in order to know God?  If that were true, God would be someone only available to us on Sunday mornings, and not throughout the week--something which is not only unscriptural but also anathema to most evangelicals.  But if God is available to us outside of church, why do we need to go?  Why the need to "assemble ourselves together"?  Some might say that it is because this is how God wants to be worshiped, by all of us together singing hymns or whatnot, but that simply isn't true.  In John 4:21-23, Jesus rejects both the Jews' worship in the temple of Jerusalem and the Samaritan's worship of God in their own temple.  He doesn't substitute these assemblies with a new one but says, "The hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and in truth, for the Father is seeking such people to worship him."  If we are to be the true worshipers God desires, our worship of him must be in spirit and truth and extend beyond the confines of our congregational assemblies.

So why is our assembly so important?  It turns out that the passage of Hebrews I (mis)quoted earlier has the answer:
And let us consider how to stir one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.
That's why we need to meet together.  We need encouragement and we need to encourage others.  That's it...and that raises some questions for me about our churches.  Are we really fulfilling this command when we go to church, or are our assemblies vain to this end?  Churches, Biblically speaking, do not exist as the entity for a Christian to serve, but as an entity to serve the Christian, a place where he or she can go to encourage others and be encouraged himself in the pursuit of love, good works, and nearness to God.  Do our churches really accomplish that, or have they become self-serving entities whose first goal is to increase their own numbers rather than to enrich the spiritual lives of their congregants?  If the latter is the case with any church we attend, scripturally, we should start looking for another one, as that church no longer helps us obey the command of Hebrews 10:24-25.