...
Is God’s love ever dark?
Is it ever slightly bitter?
Maybe.
Maybe you think I’m beginning to wander down heretical or pagan roads. I assure you I am not.
Ever have one of those days where you just need a little glimpse of God’s love? Not the writing-on-the-wall, epiphany, burning bush kind of sign, but your heart just says, “God, I just need something little to remind me of you love”?
Maybe it hasn’t even coalesced into that specific of a prayer, but it’s going on in your heart anyway.
I experienced the Dark Love of God the other day in a way that caused me to glory in Him in my heart in a way I was not totally anticipating.
Now when I say the Dark Love of God, perhaps your mind goes to scenes from Mel Gibson’s “The Passion of the Christ”. The dark days of the cross: when God’s love toward rebellious humanity was put on full display in the humiliating, torturous, violent death of Jesus. The dark oppression of our sins on the sinless One? Or perhaps the bitter gall at the cross? No.
I have come to greatly respect the teachings and writings of John Piper, who in his book, Desiring God--Meditations of a Christian Hedonist, writes: “God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him.” (pg. 50)
I don’t know that I’d go so far as to say “most glorified”… but I do think that God receives glory when we enjoy His good gifts in a way that acknowledges that those gifts have come from His hand; gifts that express His love towards all of humanity just because of His nature.
The Dark Love of God I experienced was a simple, yet delightful Café Americano.
Those who know me well know I enjoy a good cup of coffee – I grind my own beans, tamp them, and am in what seems to be a never-ending quest to produce the finest cappuccino or Americano I can from home.
I enjoy coffee. Thoroughly.
I frequent our local Starbucks every so often and am usually pleased with the java I receive.
But Monday, as I pulled out of the drive through and took my first sip I was immediately drawn to worship God.
Over coffee?
Yes.
Here it was – the unmerited love of God in a paper cup. The same love that causes God to send rain on the fields of both the righteous and the unrighteous. (Matt. 5:44-46)
For certain it was not the caffeine, as it hadn't even had a chance to affect my system yet.
I was glad I had tipped my barista well, but took infinitely more delight in the God Who has not only has rescued me from my sin, but Who also delights to give His children good gifts when they least expect it.
My heart was drawn to praise and thanks for this minute gesture from the transcendent God. By His Word He is sustaining the entire universe – yet at that moment, because of His mercy, grace and Father-heart I knew His intimate love; His agape-love in a way I could best experience it. A way that reminded me that He was speaking to me specifically; that He knows me to the core.
I certainly didn’t pull up to the window with the expectation that I would experience the love of God.
But there it was - in all its surprising, murky, robust glory – the Dark Love of God.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Thursday, February 8, 2007
Fatherhood
A really cool thought hit me about fatherhood a couple days ago, spurred on by a U2 song.
Before I get to it, I have learned that fatherhood is an amazing gift from God. He uses it to hold a mirror to the condition of the soul (over and over and over in my case it seems) to show areas for growth and to remind us of the joy He feels as our heavenly Father.
Before I got married, I thought I was a pretty well-adjusted guy who was fairly courteous.
Then, through marriage, God showed me how selfish I was. About three years later when our first child was born, God showed me I had more work to do on the selfishness area. I’m still learning from both marriage and fatherhood to die to self. And in all honesty – not always doing the best at it.
Here’s the thing that hit me the other day: as we grow older, most of us begin to ‘see’ our parents in the way we act (guys in particular, but I think women deal with this as well).
Bono has often said that the song “Sometimes You Can’t Make it On Your Own” was written for his father who had recently passed away. The chorus includes these words:
“And it's you when I look in the mirror
And it's you when I don't pick up the phone”
I’m finding this to be so true.
I’m finding that I sometimes react to situations like I observed my parents did. I’ll catch myself and think, “whoa, that sounded just like my dad.”
Other times it’s so subtle that it literally gives me shivers.
I’ll be playing with my kids in the living room and catch my reflection in our mirror and my expression, or the way I smile will instantly remind me of my dad. Something about how my lips curve; the way my chin looks…
And so, as I was humming along to Bono, it struck me the other day:
“I want to look more like my heavenly Father as I get older.”
I want to react to situations like my heavenly Dad does – with His heart. To smile as He does over the things that bring Him joy. To be upset at the injustices that break His heart.
To be more Christ-like.
“... Jesus said to them, ‘My Father is always at his work to this very day, and I, too, am working.’ For this reason the Jews tried all the harder to kill him; not only was he breaking the Sabbath, but he was even calling God his own Father, making himself equal with God.
Jesus gave them this answer: ‘I tell you the truth, the Son can do nothing by himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does. For the Father loves the Son and shows him all he does.’” (John 516-20a)
“And it's you when I look in the mirror…”
Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own
Before I get to it, I have learned that fatherhood is an amazing gift from God. He uses it to hold a mirror to the condition of the soul (over and over and over in my case it seems) to show areas for growth and to remind us of the joy He feels as our heavenly Father.
Before I got married, I thought I was a pretty well-adjusted guy who was fairly courteous.
Then, through marriage, God showed me how selfish I was. About three years later when our first child was born, God showed me I had more work to do on the selfishness area. I’m still learning from both marriage and fatherhood to die to self. And in all honesty – not always doing the best at it.
Here’s the thing that hit me the other day: as we grow older, most of us begin to ‘see’ our parents in the way we act (guys in particular, but I think women deal with this as well).
Bono has often said that the song “Sometimes You Can’t Make it On Your Own” was written for his father who had recently passed away. The chorus includes these words:
“And it's you when I look in the mirror
And it's you when I don't pick up the phone”
I’m finding this to be so true.
I’m finding that I sometimes react to situations like I observed my parents did. I’ll catch myself and think, “whoa, that sounded just like my dad.”
Other times it’s so subtle that it literally gives me shivers.
I’ll be playing with my kids in the living room and catch my reflection in our mirror and my expression, or the way I smile will instantly remind me of my dad. Something about how my lips curve; the way my chin looks…
And so, as I was humming along to Bono, it struck me the other day:
“I want to look more like my heavenly Father as I get older.”
I want to react to situations like my heavenly Dad does – with His heart. To smile as He does over the things that bring Him joy. To be upset at the injustices that break His heart.
To be more Christ-like.
“... Jesus said to them, ‘My Father is always at his work to this very day, and I, too, am working.’ For this reason the Jews tried all the harder to kill him; not only was he breaking the Sabbath, but he was even calling God his own Father, making himself equal with God.
Jesus gave them this answer: ‘I tell you the truth, the Son can do nothing by himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does. For the Father loves the Son and shows him all he does.’” (John 516-20a)
“And it's you when I look in the mirror…”
Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own
Friday, February 2, 2007
the end of faith
Faith
“– noun
1. confidence or trust in a person or thing”
“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” (HEB. 11:1 ESV)
I’ve been thinking a lot about faith recently. What is it? Does faith end?
The verse above is one quickly memorized by new followers of Jesus, and comes to roll off the tongue quite easily. In fact, in my Bio 100 course in college, the first question asked by my Prof was, “What is the difference between science and religion?” A well intentioned Christ-follower in the room readily quoted Hebrews 11:1, which in all honesty, seemed really out of context at the time. Our Prof had a palpable disdain for people of faith, and would often lampoon those who took the Bible seriously – some of us specifically.
The thing I’ve been mulling over recently is - what is the difference between religion and faith? Sure, I know that religion is about us trying to earn our way to God. That’s not what I mean. What I mean is, when have we unwittingly allowed our faith to slide into becoming religion? Do we know all the right phrases and clichés, so that our ‘faith’ has become less of a dependent walk and more about being able to pass a test?
Perhaps it’s because I’ve been in the ancient texts of Genesis and Job recently and watched from eons away the struggles of the Patriarchs and Job.
What has been swirling in my head is this: can faith really be called ‘faith’ if it remains untested? Do I really have faith that a chair will support my weight if I never sit down in it? Faith is, after all, about trust.
Abraham trusted in God when all else seemed to say, “you’re just hearing voices, bloke”
Trust that it really was God calling Him out of Ur
That it was God telling him his descendents would outnumber the sand on the seashore
That God would make of him a great nation
That he would conceive a child, even in his old age, and when they had thought Sarah to be barren.
And yeah, Abraham tried to make some of these things happen in his own power, or using his own rationales (Hagar), but his example is really helpful for me. Now, I’ve never audibly heard the voice of God mind you, yet Abraham had to trust God. Even had to trust for some things that he would never see this side of heaven.
A friend of mine created an awesome photo of himself doing a ‘trust fall’ into a grave. It’s such a great picture of final faith.
But I wonder how I would try to capture daily faith in an artistic photo?
It’s like this faith is this daily, lifelong, dependent, pursuit of the unseen based upon compelling evidence. That evidence is another dozen or so posts, so it can wait.
To say that we’re trusting in God for eternal life, but not trusting Him in daily life – is that genuine faith? If we insulate ourselves from pain and trial are we trying to circumvent the role of faith in our lives? And beyond faith, is it possible that God allows some struggle in our lives for just that purpose: to test and refine our faith.
What I’m getting at is this: do I really have faith, if that faith is never being challenged, if it is never tested, if it never comes to a place of external or internal opposition? In America, most of us don’t rely day-to-day on the providence of God to make it through each day. If I am comfortable in my 4 bedroom, 2 car garage home, with my 2 kids and all my bills abundantly met… if I have every genuine need met and most of my wants covered… where is faith? Or do my beliefs fall more into a ‘religion’ category? Hasn’t it become philosophy and not faith? Where is the trust fall in that? Where do I need to allow the muscle, if you will, of faith to be exercised?
Perhaps grief and heartache are the Bowflex of faith? And yeah – that sucker is costly.
And do I really want the results? Or do I just like thinking about them…
To shift gears… does faith end?
I think so. I mean, Romans 8 says, “Hope that is seen is no hope at all”. So I live in faith, or trust, or hope to one day see Christ face to face because of his merits on my behalf, then naturally when it comes to pass then it is no longer hope, or trust, or faith.
And 1 Corinthians 13 (the most oft quoted passage at weddings) tells us that “where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears...
…And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”
So where there is no need for something (prophecy, tongues, special knowledge) it ceases. Interesting then that even hope and faith will one day come to an end. Yet even then, love will remain.
A great song that continues this ‘faith’ dialogue is Derek Webb’s “New Law” from his Mockingbird CD (or you can hear it at his site: here)
or just watch it:
‘til next time…
“– noun
1. confidence or trust in a person or thing”
“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” (HEB. 11:1 ESV)
I’ve been thinking a lot about faith recently. What is it? Does faith end?
The verse above is one quickly memorized by new followers of Jesus, and comes to roll off the tongue quite easily. In fact, in my Bio 100 course in college, the first question asked by my Prof was, “What is the difference between science and religion?” A well intentioned Christ-follower in the room readily quoted Hebrews 11:1, which in all honesty, seemed really out of context at the time. Our Prof had a palpable disdain for people of faith, and would often lampoon those who took the Bible seriously – some of us specifically.
The thing I’ve been mulling over recently is - what is the difference between religion and faith? Sure, I know that religion is about us trying to earn our way to God. That’s not what I mean. What I mean is, when have we unwittingly allowed our faith to slide into becoming religion? Do we know all the right phrases and clichés, so that our ‘faith’ has become less of a dependent walk and more about being able to pass a test?
Perhaps it’s because I’ve been in the ancient texts of Genesis and Job recently and watched from eons away the struggles of the Patriarchs and Job.
What has been swirling in my head is this: can faith really be called ‘faith’ if it remains untested? Do I really have faith that a chair will support my weight if I never sit down in it? Faith is, after all, about trust.
Abraham trusted in God when all else seemed to say, “you’re just hearing voices, bloke”
Trust that it really was God calling Him out of Ur
That it was God telling him his descendents would outnumber the sand on the seashore
That God would make of him a great nation
That he would conceive a child, even in his old age, and when they had thought Sarah to be barren.
And yeah, Abraham tried to make some of these things happen in his own power, or using his own rationales (Hagar), but his example is really helpful for me. Now, I’ve never audibly heard the voice of God mind you, yet Abraham had to trust God. Even had to trust for some things that he would never see this side of heaven.
A friend of mine created an awesome photo of himself doing a ‘trust fall’ into a grave. It’s such a great picture of final faith.
But I wonder how I would try to capture daily faith in an artistic photo?
It’s like this faith is this daily, lifelong, dependent, pursuit of the unseen based upon compelling evidence. That evidence is another dozen or so posts, so it can wait.
To say that we’re trusting in God for eternal life, but not trusting Him in daily life – is that genuine faith? If we insulate ourselves from pain and trial are we trying to circumvent the role of faith in our lives? And beyond faith, is it possible that God allows some struggle in our lives for just that purpose: to test and refine our faith.
What I’m getting at is this: do I really have faith, if that faith is never being challenged, if it is never tested, if it never comes to a place of external or internal opposition? In America, most of us don’t rely day-to-day on the providence of God to make it through each day. If I am comfortable in my 4 bedroom, 2 car garage home, with my 2 kids and all my bills abundantly met… if I have every genuine need met and most of my wants covered… where is faith? Or do my beliefs fall more into a ‘religion’ category? Hasn’t it become philosophy and not faith? Where is the trust fall in that? Where do I need to allow the muscle, if you will, of faith to be exercised?
Perhaps grief and heartache are the Bowflex of faith? And yeah – that sucker is costly.
And do I really want the results? Or do I just like thinking about them…
To shift gears… does faith end?
I think so. I mean, Romans 8 says, “Hope that is seen is no hope at all”. So I live in faith, or trust, or hope to one day see Christ face to face because of his merits on my behalf, then naturally when it comes to pass then it is no longer hope, or trust, or faith.
And 1 Corinthians 13 (the most oft quoted passage at weddings) tells us that “where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears...
…And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”
So where there is no need for something (prophecy, tongues, special knowledge) it ceases. Interesting then that even hope and faith will one day come to an end. Yet even then, love will remain.
A great song that continues this ‘faith’ dialogue is Derek Webb’s “New Law” from his Mockingbird CD (or you can hear it at his site: here)
or just watch it:
‘til next time…
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