Column for the February, 2017, Green Lake Church Gazette
It was another
morning waiting for dawn. The sky was murky. Occasionally the
crescent moon found a thin spot in the clouds. The brightening in the
east was hesitant, timid. Still, darkness retreated. Gray warmed
toward orange, then gaps in the clouds leaped to life with pinks and
purples and yellows and reds and oranges. For a brief moment the sky
was gloriously aflame.
As the day advanced,
the clouds would thicken. This was, after all, Seattle in January.
Rain would come. But I carried with me all day the vision of that
golden, fiery sky and the conviction it called up in the core of my
being: we live in an ocean of divine favor.
My central ambition
is to imbibe as deeply as possible this blessing, to take it in and
savor it, enjoy it, relish it, allow it to suffuse my entire self,
and then to share it, to pass it along, to pay it forward. This is
the essence of my religion. It is a hopeful, radiant vision.
Always, I dream of
expressing more richly the reality of God's favor and grace. I aspire
to exemplify in my own life the sweetness and generosity of the
heavenly lover which means I can always imagine better, higher,
purer. But since I am swimming in the ocean of divine grace, the
space between what I have accomplished today and what I can imagine
accomplishing does not haunt me with remorse or guilt. I have no
taste of condemnation in my mouth. I simply keep alive the dream of
living out ever more fully the divine favor that surrounds me.
That morning
watching the dawn my enjoyment was qualified somewhat by another
awareness. I know that many people who are precious to me live in an
atmosphere of divine wrath. Like me, they learned from classic
Christianity that all humanity is the target of a divine scowl. God
hates sin. All humans are intrinsically, fundamentally sinful. So God
has an essential hatred of our humanity. In this religious
perspective, the default destiny of every human is damnation, a
destiny that can be avoided only by mastering certain religious
prescriptions. For some Protestants the requirement is believing a
particular theory about the meaning of the death of Jesus. For some
old time Adventists the requirement was flawless behavior, including
eating a perfect diet. Old time Adventist perfectionists and American
evangelicals are united in their conviction that humans live in an
atmosphere of divine wrath. It is time to replace this fear of a dark
and scowling God with a clear vision of God as light and life and
love.
Hear the testimony
of the Gospels:
Matthew
Jesus pictured God as the abundantly generous supplier of sunshine
and rain. The ubiquity of these gifts of the heavens is a statement
about the character of God (Matthew 5).
Jesus pictured God as an attentive parent, someone who is aware of
children's needs and moving to supply them even before the kids
themselves could think to ask (Matthew 6).
In Matthew 7, Jesus said the ordinary instinct of a parent to provide
for the ordinary needs of their children is a reliable pointer toward
the profound goodness and generosity of God.
Mark
While Jesus was preaching in the synagogue in Capernaum, a man with
an “unclean spirit” disrupted the service, shouting fear and
belligerence at Jesus. In response, Jesus drove out the unclean
spirit and left the man whole (Mark 1).
Jesus and his disciples crossed the Sea of Galilee. In the wild
country on the far side, they encountered another victim of an
“unclean spirit.” Like the man in the synagogue this man raged
his fear and hostility. And like Jesus in the synagogue, Jesus
rescued him, giving him back his sanity and his life. Without
request, without permission. That's just the way Jesus was. As
Christians, we insist, that's the way God is. (Mark 5)
Luke
In just one chapter, 15, Jesus gives three pictures of God. God is a
shepherd who will not rest until all sheep are safe in the fold, a
woman who will not rest until all her treasures are back in her
possession, a father whose door is ever open to his sons. The
shepherd is not scowling while he hunts his sheep. The woman is not
frowning as she sweeps her house in determined pursuit of the lost
coin. The father is not a “hazard” to be crossed in pursuit of
“safe-at-home.” In each of these pictures, the “lost one” has
nothing to fear from wrath. Because there is no wrath. Instead we
observe divine hunger for restoration and return.
A young man was being carried out for burial just as Jesus was
entering the town. Jesus did not ask permission. He received no
request. He stopped the procession and resurrected the young man. It
seems Jesus can't help himself. It is his nature to heal and save.
Indiscriminately. Prodigiously. As Christians we agree that Jesus is
the best picture of God. It is the nature of God to heal and save.
God is like the dawn.
I have discarded the
dark doctrines of total depravity, “the close of probation,” “not
one in twenty,” divine wrath, universal guilt, and “salvation
only if _______.” (You can fill in the blank.) I have replaced all
these gloomy conceptions of God with the Gospel picture of God as the
radiant sun and vivifying rain. Let's bask in God's light. Let's
marinate our souls in the heavenly rain. Let's enjoy this ocean of
divine favor and pass it on.
2 comments:
However, our actions and habits and relationships have a very real impact on our lives here-and-now and on the lives of others... also the well being of the planet and all that is on it.
I love the way you express the truth found in Luke. This divine search for what is lost is not some angry pursuit but a determination to find what has been lost. Thanks for painting that picture.
Post a Comment