In 1955 Hannah Hurnard published Hinds' Feet on High Places, an allegory featuring Much-Afraid who was called by the Chief Shepherd to climb from the Valley of Humiliation to the High Places. She had two traveling companions for the journey. They were named Sorrow and Suffering. In our Hebrews passage for this week, we discover that Jesus also walked with these companions and learned obedience from them.
The problem of pain and suffering is perhaps one of the oldest and most puzzling mysteries of life, particularly for those who believe the universe was created and is even now overseen by a God whose essence is love. I don't know the answers to the questions along this line that have been discussed throughout the ages, but I find it interesting that suffering is presented here as qualifying Jesus to be our high priest. Are there desirable character traits that can be developed by no other means? Are Sorrow and Suffering somehow essential to spiritual growth? Do they shape us in a fashion that cannot be accomplished by any other force?
The writer to the Hebrews notes in 5:2-3 that an earthly priest is "able to deal gently with those who are ignorant and going astray" because he himself is subject to weakness and obliged to "offer sacrifices for his own sins." However, in the case of Jesus, the writer notes a few verses later, it is the "prayers and petitions" he offered up "with loud cries and tears" as he "learned obedience from what he suffered" that qualifies him to be "high priest in the order of Melchizedek."
In my half-century of life, I have not encountered nearly so much pain as many of the people around me. Yet, I can see that I am a better person because of some of life's challenges -- more empathetic and caring. The "light and momentary troubles" (2 Cor. 4:17) that have come my way have been good for me. Perhaps learning obedience and submission during the tough times of life is preferable to being broken by the pain of sin and has the same effect of teaching us "to deal gently with those who are ignorant and going astray."
I certainly have no plans to go looking for painful experiences for the sake of building character. I figure trouble can find me plenty well without me going out looking for it. Still, it makes times of trouble more bearable to realize that there are useful lessons to be learned from those faithful companions called Sorrow and Suffering, lessons which can qualify those who suffer to share the burdens of those around them.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
The Sabbath and Faith
More and more, I associate the call to Sabbath rest in the Bible with faith. It requires faith to set aside the urgent tasks of living and take one day off every week. I must believe that what I can accomplish in six days is enough. And when I realize that it is obviously not enough, it takes faith in the love of God, the grace of God, to believe that submissive obedience counts more than accomplishment. I haven't done enough and yet ... today I will let it all go and simply rest. By faith, I believe that the world will not end if I quit spinning plates for one day. I can give them one final whirl on Saturday evening and then let them go until Monday with faith that the tasks I set aside will still be there waiting for me if they need to be done.
I find the church's treatment of the fourth Commandment a never-ending irony. Christians hold up the 10 Commandments as sacred and eternally valid -- except the fourth one. Only the fifth comes close to it for disregard. It's amazing how little popularity the positive "Thou shalt" commands have in comparison to those in the "Thou shall not" category.
In the case of the fourth commandment, I suspect a fear of hypocrisy softens the voice of the church. After all, the bulk of the 'work' of the church happens on Sunday, the Christian 'Sabbath.' There are sermons to preach, lessons to teach, tithes to collect, services to conduct, prayers to be prayed, music to be played, special emphases to be emphasized. And since we all have the day off, it's a good time to call a meeting and conduct church business. In between all the church activity, we'll fit in Sunday dinner and maybe watch some football or run to Wal-Mart. That's the current pattern. My grandmother used to do her "calling" on Sunday afternoons -- visiting the sick and elderly. Her Sunday were just as full, if not more so. Were they more holy?
It requires faith to push aside the urgency of our work and deliberately rest. Protecting sacred space in the week isn't easy. It requires faith that it's worth it simply because God ordained it. And it sometimes means accepting the label of hypocrite when declining to add another event to one's Sunday schedule. I regularly inconvenience people by resisting their requests to practice music at 9:00 am before Sunday School begins at 9:30. I shift as much activity as possible to other days, giving Sunday a restful rhythm of preparation, gathering, low-stress dining, relaxing, and gathering again. I accept interruptions to that flow as acceptable exceptions by God's grace, even as I invest energy in making sure the exceptions don't take up permanent residence. Part of the faith required for observing a Christian Sabbath is believing that every moment of the day is sacred but that inactivity isn't the only way to relax.
More and more, I associate the call to Sabbath rest with faith, faith that I am not so essential to the business of the world that I can't set it all aside for one day a week; faith that the disapproval of those whom I disappoint or irritate as I protect that sacred space is fully offset by the benefits of obedience; faith that being 'hypocritical' or 'inconsistent' for allowing some activities into the day while rejecting others will not significantly harm my witness as a follower of Jesus Christ; faith that there is a God who is more pleased to see me rest than take on more work.
I heartily recommend guarding some sacred space each week. It's a good reminder that the world is not our master. And, just as tithing our money is the first step toward fiscal responsibility, carving out space in our schedules is a great start for effective time management. If we all committed ourselves to a restful and rhythmic weekly sabbath, I suspect our Sunday schedules would become simpler and we would be healthier.
I find the church's treatment of the fourth Commandment a never-ending irony. Christians hold up the 10 Commandments as sacred and eternally valid -- except the fourth one. Only the fifth comes close to it for disregard. It's amazing how little popularity the positive "Thou shalt" commands have in comparison to those in the "Thou shall not" category.
In the case of the fourth commandment, I suspect a fear of hypocrisy softens the voice of the church. After all, the bulk of the 'work' of the church happens on Sunday, the Christian 'Sabbath.' There are sermons to preach, lessons to teach, tithes to collect, services to conduct, prayers to be prayed, music to be played, special emphases to be emphasized. And since we all have the day off, it's a good time to call a meeting and conduct church business. In between all the church activity, we'll fit in Sunday dinner and maybe watch some football or run to Wal-Mart. That's the current pattern. My grandmother used to do her "calling" on Sunday afternoons -- visiting the sick and elderly. Her Sunday were just as full, if not more so. Were they more holy?
It requires faith to push aside the urgency of our work and deliberately rest. Protecting sacred space in the week isn't easy. It requires faith that it's worth it simply because God ordained it. And it sometimes means accepting the label of hypocrite when declining to add another event to one's Sunday schedule. I regularly inconvenience people by resisting their requests to practice music at 9:00 am before Sunday School begins at 9:30. I shift as much activity as possible to other days, giving Sunday a restful rhythm of preparation, gathering, low-stress dining, relaxing, and gathering again. I accept interruptions to that flow as acceptable exceptions by God's grace, even as I invest energy in making sure the exceptions don't take up permanent residence. Part of the faith required for observing a Christian Sabbath is believing that every moment of the day is sacred but that inactivity isn't the only way to relax.
More and more, I associate the call to Sabbath rest with faith, faith that I am not so essential to the business of the world that I can't set it all aside for one day a week; faith that the disapproval of those whom I disappoint or irritate as I protect that sacred space is fully offset by the benefits of obedience; faith that being 'hypocritical' or 'inconsistent' for allowing some activities into the day while rejecting others will not significantly harm my witness as a follower of Jesus Christ; faith that there is a God who is more pleased to see me rest than take on more work.
I heartily recommend guarding some sacred space each week. It's a good reminder that the world is not our master. And, just as tithing our money is the first step toward fiscal responsibility, carving out space in our schedules is a great start for effective time management. If we all committed ourselves to a restful and rhythmic weekly sabbath, I suspect our Sunday schedules would become simpler and we would be healthier.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
The Glory of God
Then Moses said, "Now show me your glory."
And the LORD said, "I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim my name, the LORD, in your presence. I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion. But," he said, "you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live" - Exodus 33:18-20.
What does the face of God look like? God told Moses that no one could see His face and live. But in Hebrews 1:3 we're told that the Son is "the radiance of God's glory and the exact representation of his being." In Jesus, long centuries after Moses, we can finally look on the "radiance of God's glory" and live.
So what does "the radiance of God's glory and the exact representation of his being" look like with flesh on? Is it a man with a halo and glowing countenance dressed in brilliant white robes? That might fit with the description of "someone 'like a son of man' " in Revelation 1:13, but not so well with the man Jesus of Nazareth found in the gospels. No, in Jesus we find humility. He's hanging out in the hills of Galilee, eating with tax collectors and sinners, having his feet bathed by the tears and wiped with the hair of a woman of ill repute. He's teaching ordinary folks on ordinary hillsides or from ordinary fishing boats, seemingly an ordinary man by every measure other than having the power to heal and extraordinary authority for teaching. There seems to be little about him that catches the notice of the movers and shakers of his world. The religious leaders let him go on as long as they did out of fear of the people who adored him, not because they saw anything to fear in Jesus himself.
So what does it look like when we don the "radiance of the glory of God" and become "god-ly"? Do we have an angelic glow about us? If the "exact representation of [God's] being" -- Jesus -- blended so well into his daily world, should we expect to be noticed and awarded with honor and status? Should we expect the bulk of our ministry to be done in a public way in our "Jerusalem" or will we too be assigned radiate the glory of God in quiet unobtrusive ways on the backroads of "Galilee"?
As one who lives and does ministry out far from the spotlights, I find it interesting that our chief model of what God looks like in human flesh spent most of his life far from the glitz and glamor of the centers of power in his world.
I have often wondered what prompted people healed by Jesus to glorify God rather than worshiping the man who had touched them. Perhaps there's something to be said for being so extremely ordinary in appearance and lifestyle that it's obvious that any power and glory being demonstrated through us has to trace back to God.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Bible illiteracy
People don't read like they used to. Newspaper offices are closing. Magazines are struggling to survive. Things are changing. I work in a library. If we were to base our spending decisions totally on demand, we would move out the books to make room for more videos and computer stations.
As literacy fades in our society, how will the Bible retain its place of influence? It has survived years of distance from the original authors and languages. It has been made readily available by means of the printing press and a world that produces books easily and economically. It is the all-time bestseller. But can it continue to be influential if people simply quit reading?
I was in a Bible study this week that arrived at the banks of the Red Sea with the Egyptians in hot pursuit. The pillar of cloud separated the Israelites from their pursuers and an east wind blew all night, piling up the water and exposing dry ground for crossing. One of the group expressed surprise concerning the long night of wind. In his mental picture, Moses (AKA Charlton Heston) holds his rod over the water and it divides like magic, no wind required. The most popular video version of the story doesn't quite jive with the biblical account behind it. If that's true for action scenes such as this, is it evern conceivable to consider converting the Bible to video format?
The good news in all this is that people are still acquiring the necessary skills for reading the Bible. They may be spending less time doing sustained reading of print material, but text continues to be used widely on the internet, perhaps the strongest replacement for the print material that was being consumed twenty-five years ago (well into the age of television). Literacy is still important to our society.
Still, how can we motivate people to include time with the Bible in their days? How can we form biblically literate disciples of Jesus Christ? How can we persuade them to turn off their iPods long enough to focus on a chapter or two from the living Word of God? Would it be better to somehow get an audio version of the Bible onto their iPods?
The Bible has survived a lot of challenges over the years. It will be interesting to see how it comes through this one.'
As literacy fades in our society, how will the Bible retain its place of influence? It has survived years of distance from the original authors and languages. It has been made readily available by means of the printing press and a world that produces books easily and economically. It is the all-time bestseller. But can it continue to be influential if people simply quit reading?
I was in a Bible study this week that arrived at the banks of the Red Sea with the Egyptians in hot pursuit. The pillar of cloud separated the Israelites from their pursuers and an east wind blew all night, piling up the water and exposing dry ground for crossing. One of the group expressed surprise concerning the long night of wind. In his mental picture, Moses (AKA Charlton Heston) holds his rod over the water and it divides like magic, no wind required. The most popular video version of the story doesn't quite jive with the biblical account behind it. If that's true for action scenes such as this, is it evern conceivable to consider converting the Bible to video format?
The good news in all this is that people are still acquiring the necessary skills for reading the Bible. They may be spending less time doing sustained reading of print material, but text continues to be used widely on the internet, perhaps the strongest replacement for the print material that was being consumed twenty-five years ago (well into the age of television). Literacy is still important to our society.
Still, how can we motivate people to include time with the Bible in their days? How can we form biblically literate disciples of Jesus Christ? How can we persuade them to turn off their iPods long enough to focus on a chapter or two from the living Word of God? Would it be better to somehow get an audio version of the Bible onto their iPods?
The Bible has survived a lot of challenges over the years. It will be interesting to see how it comes through this one.'
Friday, September 11, 2009
Driving out the moneychangers
From the WordAction "teaching methods" for 9/13/09 regarding the persecuted church:
My first response to the question is to question its validity. It gives us two mutually-exclusive responses. Either we let the persecution continue without protest or we wade in and do our best to make it stop, even if it means resorting to violence.
Do those two choices really exhaust our full range of possible responses to persecution of Christians around the world? Am I alone in perceiving the first choice as representing the option of non-engagement? Does it, for others, bring up, as it ought to, scenes of those who returned to minister to the Auca Indians in Ecuador following the death of Jim Elliot and three other missionaries?
Driving out the moneychangers is a curious scenario to bring into the discussion. The moneychangers in the Gospels were turning the worship of God into a commercial enterprise and as a result making worship difficult for those entering the temple courts. Who in the current story of the persecuted church fits that role? Is it possible to find "moneychangers" outside the walls of the church?
Another nagging aspect of bringing up the encounter between Jesus and the moneychangers is that it was one more step toward the cross. It happened at the beginning of his last week in Jerusalem. By the end of the week he was dead and we can presume that all those tables were back in place. While Jesus' action certainly wasn't pointless, one has to take the long view to see any benefit from it. In the short term, it simply gave the religious leaders one more reason to kill him without resolving anything about Jewish worship in Jerusalem.
Let's look at our options again. Is it time to minister to those who persecute us without retaliation? Is it time to focus on tearing down the barriers to worship erected by those seeking personal profit through religious enterprise even if it costs us everything? Is it time to try to overturn the activities of our persecutors with a whip, realizing that the attempt will likely cost us our lives? Is this a call to embrace martyrdom on behalf of the persecuted church? Will those who choose that option act alone or will they stir up others to fight and die with them -- or maybe on their behalf?
One of the presumptions behind the question is that it is time to do something to stop persecution of Christians around the world. Will we also seek to stop persecution of people from other religions? Would it be best to stop all violence in the world that occurs to any person for any reason? (If that were our goal, wouldn't it be intuitively obvious that it couldn't be done by means of violence?) Why are we primarily concerned about persecution against Christians? Is it because we fear it might someday be us?
"Is it time for Christians to turn the other cheek? Or is it time to drive out the moneychangers?"What a loaded question this seems! Maybe I'm bringing my own experience into it, but it seems to me that there's an underlying bias in it, that there's a "correct" answer and it isn't the "do nothing" option of turning the other cheek. Christians are being tortured and killed! We can't stand by silently while it happens.
My first response to the question is to question its validity. It gives us two mutually-exclusive responses. Either we let the persecution continue without protest or we wade in and do our best to make it stop, even if it means resorting to violence.
Do those two choices really exhaust our full range of possible responses to persecution of Christians around the world? Am I alone in perceiving the first choice as representing the option of non-engagement? Does it, for others, bring up, as it ought to, scenes of those who returned to minister to the Auca Indians in Ecuador following the death of Jim Elliot and three other missionaries?
Driving out the moneychangers is a curious scenario to bring into the discussion. The moneychangers in the Gospels were turning the worship of God into a commercial enterprise and as a result making worship difficult for those entering the temple courts. Who in the current story of the persecuted church fits that role? Is it possible to find "moneychangers" outside the walls of the church?
Another nagging aspect of bringing up the encounter between Jesus and the moneychangers is that it was one more step toward the cross. It happened at the beginning of his last week in Jerusalem. By the end of the week he was dead and we can presume that all those tables were back in place. While Jesus' action certainly wasn't pointless, one has to take the long view to see any benefit from it. In the short term, it simply gave the religious leaders one more reason to kill him without resolving anything about Jewish worship in Jerusalem.
Let's look at our options again. Is it time to minister to those who persecute us without retaliation? Is it time to focus on tearing down the barriers to worship erected by those seeking personal profit through religious enterprise even if it costs us everything? Is it time to try to overturn the activities of our persecutors with a whip, realizing that the attempt will likely cost us our lives? Is this a call to embrace martyrdom on behalf of the persecuted church? Will those who choose that option act alone or will they stir up others to fight and die with them -- or maybe on their behalf?
One of the presumptions behind the question is that it is time to do something to stop persecution of Christians around the world. Will we also seek to stop persecution of people from other religions? Would it be best to stop all violence in the world that occurs to any person for any reason? (If that were our goal, wouldn't it be intuitively obvious that it couldn't be done by means of violence?) Why are we primarily concerned about persecution against Christians? Is it because we fear it might someday be us?
Friday, September 04, 2009
Who knows what the Bible says?
From the WordAction lesson exposition for 9/6/09:
To see where this leads, we need only to look back to the time when books were rare and literacy uncommon. Can church authorities today better resist the temptation to do Bible interpretation in a way that furthers their own goals? Can we grasp the full message of the Bible through regular church attendance or do we need to read it for ourselves?
It would be nice to think that today's religious leaders are immune to temptation to insert a personal agenda into their messages to the people they teach, that our preachers and teachers can be trusted to give us an accurate portrayal of God's Word. But the temptation is subtle and the results often beyond detection by those without a personal grasp of Scripture. To neglect personal Bible study is to open ourselves up to false doctrines. Just as we need community to shape our personal interpretations, we need personal study to shape the mindset of the community.
What a long way we are from the medieval church! We now have ready access to the Bible in compact, inexpensive manifestations. We have a choice of translations with tremendous scholarship behind them. Here in America, we are almost 100% literate, but those who, for whatever reason, prefer to listen rather than read can readily find audio versions of Scripture. How many people through the ages have given their lives to the work of making Bibles available to us in our own language? How many hours and years of effort are represented by the Bibles gathering dust in our homes?
Yes, we need community. We also need people within the community who can bring fresh insights to the group from their personal Bible study. We neglect our Bibles between Sundays to the detriment of the community we trust to interpret Scripture for us.
Because Scripture comes from the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, the proper interpretation of Scripture cannot reside in individuals alone. Rather, it is in the community of the Holy Spirit, the Church. -- Roger HahnThis statement cautions us to bring the truth we find in the Bible into the community of believers for evaluation and discussion rather than relying on our own ability to comprehend Scripture. It's a good reminder. In my experience, however, I find few people developing their own take on Scripture. What I see instead reminds me of the scene in Exodus 20 where the people "stayed at a distance and said to Moses, 'Speak to us yourself and we will listen. But do not have God speak to us or we will die.' " Many church attenders, it seems, rely completely on other people to tell them what the Bible says. Few are willing to invest the time and effort needed for personal Bible study.
To see where this leads, we need only to look back to the time when books were rare and literacy uncommon. Can church authorities today better resist the temptation to do Bible interpretation in a way that furthers their own goals? Can we grasp the full message of the Bible through regular church attendance or do we need to read it for ourselves?
It would be nice to think that today's religious leaders are immune to temptation to insert a personal agenda into their messages to the people they teach, that our preachers and teachers can be trusted to give us an accurate portrayal of God's Word. But the temptation is subtle and the results often beyond detection by those without a personal grasp of Scripture. To neglect personal Bible study is to open ourselves up to false doctrines. Just as we need community to shape our personal interpretations, we need personal study to shape the mindset of the community.
What a long way we are from the medieval church! We now have ready access to the Bible in compact, inexpensive manifestations. We have a choice of translations with tremendous scholarship behind them. Here in America, we are almost 100% literate, but those who, for whatever reason, prefer to listen rather than read can readily find audio versions of Scripture. How many people through the ages have given their lives to the work of making Bibles available to us in our own language? How many hours and years of effort are represented by the Bibles gathering dust in our homes?
Yes, we need community. We also need people within the community who can bring fresh insights to the group from their personal Bible study. We neglect our Bibles between Sundays to the detriment of the community we trust to interpret Scripture for us.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
The Wrath of God
This week's WordAction lesson is from Revelation 16 where the seven bowls of God's wrath are poured out. The lesson writer makes the point that "little is said from pulpits today about the wrath of God." He blames this on "cowardice and compromise, ... doubt and disbelief," noting that "modern pulpits ... are too often occupied by persons who are eager for acceptance, prestige, and reward."
Ironically, I find there is more risk in focusing on the love of God than on the wrath of God. I have been reminded several times that I need to "teach the truth." That "truth" would include not only the news that God is love and that there is a heaven to gain but also a strong warning that "the finally unrepentant shall suffer eternally in hell." (Manual, Church of the Nazarene, Article XVI.) Failing to include God's wrath in one's teaching is certainly not the road to acceptance, prestige, and reward where I teach! Rather, it can easily lead to accusations of being "soft on sin" and possible loss of position. Even those who want to focus on God's love for themselves like to hear and talk about the wrath coming on those who aren't walking the straight and narrow path.
Still, I don't focus much on the wrath of God. I grew up with an image of a frowning, disapproving Creator. Sure the song said: "the Father up above is looking down in love," but my experience with people who loved me provided plenty of evidence that love didn't mean an absence of disapproval and rebuke. With so few people who seemed to actually like me even when I put on my best face, how could I hope to earn the approval of a God who saw my every sin, heard my every lie and unkind word, and knew my every ugly thought? What a hopeless task it had to be to please God!
One of the stated goals of this week's lesson is "to place our complete trust in God and His mercy." As I have contemplated all this, it has struck me that, although I talk about God's love far more than His wrath, I actually place a lot of confidence, perhaps even "complete trust," in the justice of God as it is built into this world. Two verses are especially dear to me in this regard:
1. Galatians 6:7 Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. (NIV)
2. Romans 12:17 Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: "It is mine to avenge; I will repay." (NIV)
I depend on the truth of these two passages as support for an inner commitment to letting people "get away with murder." That commitment doesn't always (or even often) manage to overrule the emotional response to being wronged, but I fall back on those passages as the basis for letting go of the wrong as quickly as possible without demanding justice. Even if I do nothing, demand no apology, hold no grudge, plot no punishment, strike no blow in return, justice is built into this world. Nobody ever gets off scott-free. Sin has consequences. I depend on that. It helps me avoid a little more effectively the idea of taking justice into my own hands for fear God will overlook the wrong.
I don't need the bowls of wrath and the plagues of Revelation 16 for evidence to support my conviction that justice is always served in the end. I can observe the negative impact of sin all around me in this life. For example, the person who speaks to me in unloving tones, probably does not reserve those tones for me alone. I am likely far from the only person with whom he or she has conflict. I suspect the person who treats me like I'm an idiot lives in a world full of idiots and suffers no small amount of frustration. The person who makes strong demands of me likely lives in a world where the only way to get what he or she wants is to demand it. Nothing ever comes easily to them. Rather, they must scrabble for every foothold.
The natural tendency is for people to treat others as they are treated. Thus, the person who doesn't treat others well is unlikely to be treated well.
Is this the wrath of God? Does God rain lightning bolts, frogs, and hailstones down on those who fail to obey His law? Or is the wrath of God embodied in the consequences of sin built into the fabric of the universe and evident all around us? In Revelation 16, it is the former. Maybe that scene reflects some sort of reality. Or maybe it is highly symbolic and the wrath of God is more of a passive, "built-in," negative consequence of serving self.
I don't know what the reality of God's wrath is. I do know, however, that I live better when I cultivate my faith that justice is always served in some way, that, at some level, there are always negative consequences for negative actions. It's the key to peace, kindness, and forgiveness. I don't need to "get even" as long as I remain confident that God sees the wrong done and takes full responsibility for disciplining the wrongdoer.
God is love. And God is just. Righteousness brings heavenly bliss, sometimes surprisingly soon; unrighteousness brings terrible consequences, sometimes surprisingly soon. I'm counting on that.
Ironically, I find there is more risk in focusing on the love of God than on the wrath of God. I have been reminded several times that I need to "teach the truth." That "truth" would include not only the news that God is love and that there is a heaven to gain but also a strong warning that "the finally unrepentant shall suffer eternally in hell." (Manual, Church of the Nazarene, Article XVI.) Failing to include God's wrath in one's teaching is certainly not the road to acceptance, prestige, and reward where I teach! Rather, it can easily lead to accusations of being "soft on sin" and possible loss of position. Even those who want to focus on God's love for themselves like to hear and talk about the wrath coming on those who aren't walking the straight and narrow path.
Still, I don't focus much on the wrath of God. I grew up with an image of a frowning, disapproving Creator. Sure the song said: "the Father up above is looking down in love," but my experience with people who loved me provided plenty of evidence that love didn't mean an absence of disapproval and rebuke. With so few people who seemed to actually like me even when I put on my best face, how could I hope to earn the approval of a God who saw my every sin, heard my every lie and unkind word, and knew my every ugly thought? What a hopeless task it had to be to please God!
One of the stated goals of this week's lesson is "to place our complete trust in God and His mercy." As I have contemplated all this, it has struck me that, although I talk about God's love far more than His wrath, I actually place a lot of confidence, perhaps even "complete trust," in the justice of God as it is built into this world. Two verses are especially dear to me in this regard:
1. Galatians 6:7 Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. (NIV)
2. Romans 12:17 Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: "It is mine to avenge; I will repay." (NIV)
I depend on the truth of these two passages as support for an inner commitment to letting people "get away with murder." That commitment doesn't always (or even often) manage to overrule the emotional response to being wronged, but I fall back on those passages as the basis for letting go of the wrong as quickly as possible without demanding justice. Even if I do nothing, demand no apology, hold no grudge, plot no punishment, strike no blow in return, justice is built into this world. Nobody ever gets off scott-free. Sin has consequences. I depend on that. It helps me avoid a little more effectively the idea of taking justice into my own hands for fear God will overlook the wrong.
I don't need the bowls of wrath and the plagues of Revelation 16 for evidence to support my conviction that justice is always served in the end. I can observe the negative impact of sin all around me in this life. For example, the person who speaks to me in unloving tones, probably does not reserve those tones for me alone. I am likely far from the only person with whom he or she has conflict. I suspect the person who treats me like I'm an idiot lives in a world full of idiots and suffers no small amount of frustration. The person who makes strong demands of me likely lives in a world where the only way to get what he or she wants is to demand it. Nothing ever comes easily to them. Rather, they must scrabble for every foothold.
The natural tendency is for people to treat others as they are treated. Thus, the person who doesn't treat others well is unlikely to be treated well.
Is this the wrath of God? Does God rain lightning bolts, frogs, and hailstones down on those who fail to obey His law? Or is the wrath of God embodied in the consequences of sin built into the fabric of the universe and evident all around us? In Revelation 16, it is the former. Maybe that scene reflects some sort of reality. Or maybe it is highly symbolic and the wrath of God is more of a passive, "built-in," negative consequence of serving self.
I don't know what the reality of God's wrath is. I do know, however, that I live better when I cultivate my faith that justice is always served in some way, that, at some level, there are always negative consequences for negative actions. It's the key to peace, kindness, and forgiveness. I don't need to "get even" as long as I remain confident that God sees the wrong done and takes full responsibility for disciplining the wrongdoer.
God is love. And God is just. Righteousness brings heavenly bliss, sometimes surprisingly soon; unrighteousness brings terrible consequences, sometimes surprisingly soon. I'm counting on that.
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