Revisioning Prophecy

This is a repost of something I've published here and elsewhere before.

Revisioning Prophecy

By John McLarty

For October, 2015, Gazette

The recent visit of Pope Francis to the United States occasioned a flurry of Adventist commentary. Some saw the visit as evidence of the looming end of time. A representative example of this thinking was published on the web site, Advendicate. This article gave particular attention to the pope's statement about climate change. Since President Obama and other world leaders also think climate change is a serious issue this is supposed to prove the pope is now wielding increased global power. The article also quoted a number of statements by the pope advocating Sunday-keeping. These were cited as evidence that the United States is moving toward the enactment of a National Sunday Law. The article can be readily summarized in these sentences:

Prophecy is being fulfilled. Pope Francis represents the first beast of Revelation 13:1, whereas President Obama represents the second beast (13:11). Revelation 13:11-17 informs us that in the closing moments of time, the second beast (USA) will promote the first beast (the Papacy), and finally enforce its “mark.”

(http://advindicate.com/articles/2015/9/27/pope-francis-sunday-and-seventh-day-adventists)

Other Adventist commentary has discussed the mass mailing of 170,000 copies of The Great Controversy by Ellen White to addresses in the Philadelphia area. Some argued Adventists should similarly blanket every city in the United States with the book. Others express embarrassment because the book is very blunt in its telling of the documented abuses by the Catholic Church in the past and its assertion that the Catholic Church will again act as a persecuting power. Many of these Adventists who are embarrassed by the book nevertheless believe Last Day Events will play out just as the book describes—a union of Protestants and the papacy will foist a National Sunday Law on America that will ultimately impose the death penalty on anyone who opposes this Sunday law. But they think we should keep this belief secret.

I largely ignored the hubbub until a student asked me about a sermon preached at Andrews University detailing “The Pope's Agenda for America.” The sermon talked about the “leopard beast” of Revelation. What did I think? Here is my response to all the commotion:

Adventist concern about the pope flows from the End Time Scenario found in chapters 35-39 of The Great Controversy. The scenario outlined in The Great Controversy is in turn rooted in the interpretation of Revelation 12-13 worked out by the Reformers, especially Martin Luther. Most Adventists believe that questioning any detail of the prophecy in The Great Controversy is tantamount to rejecting the prophetic gift of Ellen White.

The specific predictions in the book assume that Protestant churches will have irresistible influence in American political life and that those churches will partner with the Roman Catholic Church in persuading the American government to enact a National Sunday Law. Ellen White believed all these events would happen within her life time. (She died in 1915.) Given the steady decline in church attendance and church influence in American life and the passage of a hundred years of American history that Ellen White did not envision, some Adventist theologians are questioning whether the scenario mapped out in The Great Controversy will ever happen. Perhaps, the enduring relevance of the prophecies in these chapters will come from the principles of spiritual life and theology elucidated through the narrative. These principles are relevant in every historical setting, in every political environment, in every religious conflict. These principles continue to offer godly wisdom even as the world described by Ellen White morphs beyond recognition.

Curiously, one of the Bible prophets, Ezekiel, also wrote a detailed End Time Scenario. Just like Ellen White in The Great Controversy, Ezekiel names the enemies of God's people, talks about the work of the Holy Spirit to purify God's people, and outlines the stratagems of the wicked. The grand climax of his prophecy is an overwhelming, supernatural intervention by God. God blasts the armies of the wicked and establishes his people in safety and righteousness forever. The final chapters of Ezekiel provide dizzying detail of the architecture of the new temple—storage rooms and worship areas. The prophet details the clothing and scheduling of the priests. He writes about the specific liturgical practices. There is even a description of land distribution for the priests and the tribes.

But none of it ever happened.

What are we to do with this? The New Testament, especially the book of Revelation, reinterprets the vision of Ezekiel. In the book of Revelation, Ezekiel's earthly Jerusalem constructed of stone in Palestine becomes the New Jerusalem which will descend from heaven. The chief enemy of God's people in Ezekiel—a local figure, “Gog, of the land of Magog, the prince of Rosh, Meshech, and Tubal”--becomes in Revelation “Gog and Magog, the nations in the four corners of the earth.” Ezekiel writes about a river that flows from the stone temple in the earthly Jerusalem. In Revelation, the river flows from the throne of God and of the Lamb. Ezekiel writes about a fusion of the Nation of Judah and the Ten Lost Tribes which had become extinct as distinct people groups two hundred years before Ezekiel's day. In Revelation this fusion is echoed in the vision of the 144,000–12,000 from every tribe (including the Lost Tribes)--which then morphs into the international multitude so immense it cannot be counted. Every detail of Ezekiel's vision is reinterpreted. No detail is fulfilled in a literal, historical sense. It turns out that it is the spiritual heart of the vision that matters.

The truth in Ezekiel that the New Testament reaffirms is the rich promise that God will finally turn the world. He will supernaturally give us new hearts that are reliably pure and holy. He will vanquish the enemies of God's people. He will save all his people—including the lost Ten Tribes, that is the people who are utterly invisible to any human system of accounting. God will visit the Valley of Dry Bones and recreate a living people. The “take away” message of Ezekiel is God wins. Righteousness wins. God carries his people to victory. The details of Gog, the architecture of the temple, the assignments of the priests and the liturgical practices of the temple prove to be unnecessary for the accomplishment of God's purposes. And so, we let them go.

Similarly with The Great Controversy. There are eternal principles in chapters 35-39. Note these quotations:

God never forces the will or the conscience; but Satan's constant resort--to gain control of those whom he cannot otherwise seduce--is compulsion by cruelty. Through fear or force he endeavors to rule the conscience and to secure homage to himself. GC 591

A religion of externals is attractive to the unrenewed heart. The pomp and ceremony of the Catholic worship has a seductive, bewitching power, by which many are deceived; and they come to look upon the Roman Church as the very gate of heaven. GC 567 (To state the obvious: “pomp and ceremony” are not copyrighted by the Roman Catholic Church. They are not even copyrighted by religion.)

It is Satan's constant effort to misrepresent the character of God, the nature of sin, and the real issues at stake in the great controversy. His sophistry lessens the obligation of the divine law and gives men license to sin. At the same time he causes them to cherish false conceptions of God so that they regard Him with fear and hate rather than with love. The cruelty inherent in his own character is attributed to the Creator; it is embodied in systems of religion and expressed in modes of worship. GC 569

These quotations articulate principles that are relevant in every era and in every political situation. To evaluate the continued applicability of Ellen White's prophecy, it's helpful to understand her historical setting. The doctrine of papal infallibility was voted at the First Vatican Council while she was at work on the book. America was in turmoil over the mass immigration to the U. S. of people from Ireland and Italy and other Catholic countries. Protestants were afraid that through these immigrants the Catholic Church would acquire in America the kind of political clout it had exercised for centuries in Europe. Given the power of Protestant churches in America and the potential power of the Catholic Church, Ellen White's caution about the dangers of a union of churches was entirely reasonable. If the Protestant churches had united with the papacy in support of an agenda for the nation, the agenda would have passed. At the time she was writing, there was legislation being pushed in Congress for a National Sunday Law. If the end had come at that time, Ellen White's scenario would have played out.

But the end did not come. The nation changed. Churches changed. Atheism has become a far greater challenge to our faith than any conceivable challenge from other Christian groups. In today's America, if the leaders of Protestant churches issued a proclamation, would it make any difference? If the pope issued an encyclical, would Americans obey?

There are contemporary threats to the integrity and authenticity of Christianity. But the pope and the errors of Catholic theology are hardly leading candidates for the greatest threats to faith. It's time for us to let go of the details of Ellen White's prophecy and give attention instead to the principles—a true understanding of the character of God, a radical commitment to religious liberty, a deep recognition of the seductive potential of pomp and ceremony, status and stardom. These principles are relevant always.

The final sentence of Ezekiel is this: “And the name of the city from then on will be: The Lord is there.” The final sentence of The Great Controversy is, “From the minutest atom to the greatest world, all things, animate and inanimate, in their unshadowed beauty and perfect joy, declare that God is love.”

In both cases, the grand final vision transcends every imaginable outcome that could be reached through natural historical process. You can't get there from here—except by a magnificent singularity, a grand divine interruption. The ultimate fulfillment of the prophecy is possible only through the direct, miraculous creative work of God. And he will do it. It is this conviction that turns up in every vision and in every reinterpretation of the vision. What the American Congress votes or the pope says is not ultimately determinative of the course of history or the fulfillment of God's dream.

Questions My Kids Ask

Article for Green Lake Church Gazette

August 2014

Occasionally I have the honor of conversation with people young enough to be my children. I meet these young people inside and outside the church. They ask hard questions, good questions.

Why would a good God—who knew the future and was perfectly free—create a world in which most people would be lost? Did God deliberately decide that the loss of most humanity was an acceptable price to pay to acquire the kind of world he wanted for himself?

Did God create rainbows to encourage our faith and fossils to test our faith?

How can a good God (who is omnipotent, omniscient, and ubiquitous) be reconciled with suffering which is visible, palpable and randomly distributed?

Since most religions claim we are right and all those others are wrong, why should the claims of any religion be taken seriously? How can we prove the Bible is true? How can we prove the Bible is the best (or only) source of information about God?

Would a good God really condemn to eternal hell fire people whose primary “crime” was an incomplete or incorrect opinion about Jesus?

Why should I reject science, which has demonstrably increased longevity, in favor of religion which promises eternal life (but offers no proof)?

Some of the young people asking these questions call themselves atheists. Others call themselves Christian. Whatever label they apply to themselves, the questions are significant. All these questions evince a deep regard for justice and truth. Young people ask these questions because of they care about goodness. Their questions are an expression of their active moral compasses, their lively sense of conscience. So, they deserve our respect.

Why would a good God—who knew the future and was perfectly free—create a world in which most people would be lost? Did God deliberately decide that the loss of most humanity was an acceptable price to pay to acquire the kind of world he wanted for himself?

I grew up hearing preachers quote three statements by Ellen White, the Adventist prophet, that implied more than ninety-five percent of humanity would burn in the lake of fire. Similarly gloomy opinions can be found across Christianity. When I googled “How many will go to hell?” The first piece I pulled up was titled, “Billions of People Are Going to Hell.” The author figured that at least ninety-nine percent of humanity would be burned in hell. Other sites offered similarly depressing assessments. This is not the universal conclusion of Christian preachers, but it is not rare.

As a teenager, I unhesitatingly believed what I heard about the difficulty of being saved. Getting into heaven was certainly harder than getting into Harvard (current acceptance rate >5%). I resolved to be part of that tiny remnant of good-enough people. I cultivated a devotional life. I rigorously observed Adventist rules regarding snacking, movies, caffeine, slang, flesh foods, mustard, fiction, smoking, alcohol and drugs. I am happy for the discipline and structure of that childhood religion. However, I emphatically reject its gloomy picture of God and humanity. Is it really possible that God created a system which he knew would be a disastrous failure for most of humanity? No! Not if God is good.

If I knew I carried a gene for a severe disorder that would doom ninety-five percent of my progeny, I would not have had children. You would probably make the same decision. And we are not more tenderhearted than God. When our children ask, “Would a good God accept the damnation of most of his children as an acceptable price for acquiring the world he wanted?” we know the answer is NO! We don't have to do fancy exegesis. We don't have to know Hebrew and Greek. We don't have to argue the merits of varying translations. The answer to that question is NO! When our children ask this question, we should commend them for seeing clearly.

Did God create rainbows to encourage our faith and fossils to test our faith?

Nature is not a book of tricks. Rainbows really are caused by the interplay of raindrops and sunlight. We can remember the words of Genesis and find reassurance of God's beneficence in the splendor of the rainbow, but we don't imagine that rainbows are a magic show. Fossils really the result of natural processes. They are not a tricky test given by the great teacher in the sky to see who is willing to ignore the evidence available to their senses. The God who created rainbows and inspired the Bible prophets is the same God who was present at the creation of the fossils. Physics and chemistry may seem to be more accessible to our understanding, and less controversial than geology, but the rocks don't lie. We cannot expect our kids to believe in God and God's Book and disbelieve God's rocks.

How can a good God (who is omnipotent, omniscient, and ubiquitous) be reconciled with suffering which is visible, palpable and randomly distributed?

Across the centuries Christians have offered various explanations of suffering. Adventists have given special attention to a narrative explanation called “The Great Controversy.” These explanations can be helpful, but every explanation asks us to skip lightly over huge imponderables. How do we calculate the weight of pain? Until we have lived long in that gray space where praying for the release of death is easier than asking for healing we ought to speak very humbly and quietly in our attempts to make good sense of suffering. I think our children will have greater respect for what we do say if we acknowledge there are some questions beyond any possibility of answer in this life.

Since most religions claim we are right and all those others are wrong, why should the claims of any religion be taken seriously? How can we prove the Bible is true? How can we prove the Bible is the best (or only) source of information about God?

Many Christians devote a lot of energy to insisting that our way is the only right way to speak of God. We would do better to invite people to do taste tests. Come and experience God with us. Experience for yourself the value of our religion. If someone tries our religion and finds it useless, why would we keep insisting it is the perfect religion for them. On the other hand, if we persuaded a person intellectually that our religion was the best and they never actually lived it, what would be the value of our persuasive effort? Winning arguments is difficult. In the realm of spirituality, winning is probably pointless. Instead, let's invite people into the sweetness of our life with God. Encourage them to experience God for themselves. Let's offer our testimony about what we believe and how religion works for us. If this is not attractive, there is little to be gained from argument.

The New Testament offers many anecdotes illustrating the power of direct experience: Jesus' first disciples (John 1:46), Pentecost (Acts 2), Cornelius' household (Acts 10), the Blind Man of John 9. When we invite people to make direct experiments in spirituality we are in line with the New Testament. Trying to establish a theoretical basis for the superiority and uniqueness of Christianity is misplaced effort. Rather, let's exhibit its attractiveness and invite people to test its effectiveness. If the Bible is the living Word of God, we don't need to argue the point, we can simply invite people to read it for themselves. Their experience will be far more persuasive than any words we can offer.

Would a good God really condemn to eternal hell fire people whose primary “crime” was an incomplete or incorrect opinion about Jesus?

No. God is concerned with justice more than with ritual or linguistic precision. Certainly there are texts in the Bible that could be cited in support of a very narrow view. People can be saved only if they meet certain criteria—faith, works, compassionate care for the needy, keeping the commandments. Fortunately, there are also passages that speak of the openness of God to all humanity. There are formulas for salvation in the Bible. Yes, of course. These Bible formulas are not to be construed as constraining God—as though God himself could not operate outside a simple formula he gave for our edification. Rather these Bible formula are best understood as aids to humans for cultivating spiritual and moral life.

Why should I reject science, which has demonstrably increased longevity, in favor of religion which promises eternal life (but offers no proof)?

This question offers an open door for exploring the complementary value of both religion and science. It appropriately presumes the value of life. But how do we know life is better than non-life? Science cannot even speak to that question. Scientists are humans, of course. They have human values and valuing life is a fundamental human value. Science provides tools for furthering life and for ending life, for easing pain and causing pain. But science itself offers no language or taxonomic categories for valuing life over non-life. When we talk of the value of life we have moved into the realm of religion and spirituality or at least into esthetics. When we ask how can we extend life and ease suffering, most of the time we will find our answers in the tools and insights of science, but when we ask why should we extend life and ease suffering, our answers will have the ring of religion. Appreciation of life will lead us to respect both science and religion. Neither on its own is sufficient for responding to the wonder of life.

When we give proper respect to the questions asked by our children, we are likely to gain for ourselves clearer insights into God. Together with our children we may discover better ways of speaking of God and better ways of honoring the incredible gift of life. We will learn to work together not only to extend life, but to enrich it.  

Romantic Logic

Sermon manuscript for Green Lake Church of Seventh-day Adventists

August 17, 2013

A few weeks ago, I watched the movie, The Mask of Zoro. My daughter assured me I would like it. It was swash buckling and romantic. It had a satisfying ending. I'd like it. So I settled down with my computer to watch. But in the first few minutes, I wondered if this time Bonnie had made a mistake. After a rollicking opening scene with Zorro riding to the rescue of some hapless peasants, the movie suddenly portrays a deep, heart-breaking, irremediable tragedy. Zorro is ambushed in his castle by the evil Governor Montero. Zorro's beautiful wife is killed and the despicable Governor Montero takes Zorro's daughter to raise as his own an ocean away. Zorro, himself, is consigned to a filthy dungeon.

I almost turned off the movie. Being sent to prison was dark and terrible, but I could imagine an escape, a parole, some kind of redemption. But Zorro's loss of love was unbearable. In the movie, Zorro and his wife were obviously deeply in love. Their affection for their daughter was naturally rich.

How could a man endure the loss of both his beloved wife and his precious daughter to the machinations of an evil man? What possible twists of plot could lift us above the soul-crushing ache of grief and loss? How could our sense of outrage at the horrific injustice be assuaged? I was tempted to turn the movie off, but Bonnie had assured me I would like it, so I kept watching.

The story sucked me in. It pulled me along. And sure enough, not only was justice done, but in the end, even Zorro's heart found a measure of rest. Finally, everything was all right.

The Bible tells a similar story. It's going to be all right. Goodness will triumph. God will triumph. No matter how chaotic, tragic, or cold the world seems to be, there is a story being written that will be so sweet, so grand and wonderful, that in the very core of our being we will find ourselves cheering.

This hope consoles us in the face of great loss. It fires our drive and determination as we work to ease suffering, to build a healthier, happier world. When we pour our lives into making things better we are cooperating with the grand goal of the cosmos. We are partnering with God.

One way the Bible tells this story of the triumph of God is to picture God as a lover pursuing his beloved. God is a great king seeking to win the affection of his beloved. Humanity—we, people like us—we are his beloved. Sometimes people respond to God's desire and God is happy. Other times people spurn him and God is grieved or gets angry. Then he rouses himself and again pursues his beloved. At times as you read the Bible story, you despair. There is no way this story can turn out right.

Then other times, it looks hopeful. We get caught up again in the promise of romance. Surely love will win. This is the central conviction of our church. It is the most precious claim of the Bible. In this view of the cosmos, there is a purpose, an intentionality permeating reality. Life and love are not accidents in a universe that could have gone many other directions. Rather they are expressions of God who ultimately shapes the universe.

In our scripture reading we heard the words from Revelation 19:

I heard what sounded like a vast crowd in heaven shouting, "Praise the LORD! Salvation and glory and power belong to our God. His judgments are true and just. . . . the twenty-four elders and the four living beings fell down and worshiped God, who was sitting on the throne. They cried out, "Amen! Praise the LORD!" And from the throne came a voice that said, "Praise our God, all his servants, all who fear him, from the least to the greatest." Then I heard again what sounded like the shout of a vast crowd or the roar of mighty ocean waves or the crash of loud thunder: "Praise the LORD! For the Lord our God, the Almighty, reigns. Let us be glad and rejoice, and let us give honor to him. For the time has come for the wedding feast of the Lamb, and his bride has prepared herself. She has been given the finest of pure white linen to wear."

Throughout the book of Revelation the language oscillates between pictures of doom and gloom and boisterous, ecstatic worship. The forces of evil harass and torment the people of God. The people themselves vacillate between loyalty and infidelity. But finally, here in chapter 19, we come to the grand turning point. The wedding is announced. The Great King has won the heart of his beloved. She is going to become his bride. It's going to happen. For sure. Sweetness engulfs us. Everybody is happy.

This vision of a happy ending is perhaps the most important difference between atheism and theism. Christianity, in particular, imagines a bright future. Not just the possibility of a bright future, but a definite, sure triumph of goodness and light. This glorious, triumphant future is not merely one of an infinity of possible futures. We claim that God guarantees the final cosmic celebration. We affirm a future that all creation will judge to be sweet, good and satisfying. The universe has a story that comes out “right.”

Atheism does not offer this kind of confidence. Certainly, a bright future is one of the infinite possibilities among the infinity of universes imagined by mathematicians. But its likelihood is vanishingly minuscule.

Atheism asks weighty questions. Those questions deserve our respect. Some of the questions atheism raises are the same questions we Adventists pose to conventional Christianity: How could a good God torture people, even really bad people, for billions of years? For an atheist, it's a rhetorical question. For Adventists, it's a good question and we answer it: A good God could not do such a thing. The notion of eternal hell fire is bad theology.

Atheists and Adventists together ask how God could have written the verse in Psalms that celebrates war time brutality against children (Psalm 137:9). Adventists answer the question: God did not write that verse. No such thought ever entered his mind.

Atheists ask difficult questions. We owe them a measure of respect for voicing out loud questions that occasionally haunt even the most devout among us. No matter how many different ways we try to explain the relationship between the goodness of God and the suffering of the world, in the end, our explanations fail to provide a rational map of the connection between a good God and a suffering world.

We run out of words. No formula works. We cannot answer the question using logic and rational analysis.

Still we are believers. We believe the story will come out right. We believe the troubles and pain, the injustice and tragedy of the human story will be more than matched by the glorious climax. We arrive at this conviction by paying attention to way our hearts respond to stories.

Some of us are more cerebral than others. But no one can live on reason alone. I have been reading Frans de Waal's book, The Bonobo and the Atheist. De Waal pokes gentle fun at philosopher Peter Singer who made great show of being ruthlessly logical in his ethical reasoning based on first principles. When Singer was challenged about the great inconsistency between his pompous claims about the rationality of his ethics and his emotionally-driven, exceptional care for his mother. Singer replied, “Perhaps it is more difficult than I thought before, because it is different with it's your mother” (de Waal, p.184).

To be human includes reason and rationality, of course. It also includes heart. And our truest response to stories comes from our hearts not through logical analysis.

One of the great stories in the Bible opens like the Zorro movie. The first scene is happy enough. There was a recession in Israel. Food became scarce. A Jewish man named Elimelech moved his family from Bethlehem to Moab.

It looked like a smart move. Elimelech found work. Things were going well. Then he got sick and died, leaving Naomi with their two sons to fend for themselves. Mom and boys did okay. They were making it. The boys, Mahlon and Kilion, got married. Naomi, loved her new daughters, Ruth and Orpah. She began hoping for grandkids. Then Mahlon and Kilion got sick. Real sick. It was scary. Then it wasn't scary. It was terrible. Both young men died, leaving the three women to fend for themselves.

Three women alone was not viable in that society. Naomi told her daughters-in-law that she was going back to her family in Bethlehem. She urged them to go back to their parents' homes. Maybe they could find husbands again. Both daughters-in-law insisted they would go with her. They loved her. She was a real mother to them.

Naomi insisted. “Look,” she said, “You are young and beautiful. You have your whole lives in front of you. And I can't help you. I cannot give you husbands. I have no money. I have nothing. God is against me. You better go.”

Orphah, finally, reluctantly, headed back to her parents' home. But Ruth was adamant.

"Don't ask me to leave you and turn back. Wherever you go, I will go; wherever you live, I will live. Your people will be my people, and your God will be my God. Wherever you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. May the LORD punish me severely if I allow anything but death to separate us!" Ruth 1:16-17

So the two of them traveled to Bethlehem.

They arrived about the time of the barley harvest. Custom was that poor people could glean in the grain fields. That meant that after a harvesting crew had moved through a field, the poor folk could go and pick up any stray grain that had been dropped. They could cut any stalks that had been overlooked by harvesters moving efficiently and fast.

Ruth told Naomi she was going to go glean and off she went.

That night when Ruth came home, Naomi was there to ask how her day had gone. Ruth was full of news. First, she had brought home a full basket of raw grain, plus some roasted grain that had been left over from the lunch the owner of the field had given her.

Then Ruth, full of giggles and amazement, told how the rich man who owned the field had talked to her and urged her to work only in his field because he thought she, as a single woman, might be harassed in other fields. Oh, and he told the men to be kind to her. And he said she could glean right among the sheaves. He said he knew about her, that he had heard about her sticking with Naomi after the death of their husbands. He had invited her to rest in the shelter with the work crew and to help herself to water the men had drawn from the well. And he was so good looking.

Naomi was listening and nodding and smiling. When Ruth slowed down enough so Naomi could get a word in edge-wise, Naomi said, “That man is a relative of ours. He, too, is single.”

So Ruth worked through the barley harvest. Then she spent the wheat harvest also working in fields owned by Boaz.

Some time near the end of the wheat harvest, Naomi had a mother-daughter talk with Ruth. “Look,” she said. “It's time you got married again. You're not getting any younger. Neither am I. Here's what you do. You know that nice man Boaz you've been telling me about all harvest? Well, tonight he's going to be winnowing late. So here is what you do.

Now do as I tell you—take a bath and put on perfume and dress in your nicest clothes. Then go to the threshing floor, but don't let Boaz see you until he has finished eating and drinking. Be sure to notice where he lies down; then go and uncover his feet and lie down there. He will tell you what to do. Ruth 3:3-4

Ruth did just what Naomi told her. She waited until Boaz had sacked out, exhausted and full of food and drink. Then she sneaked up, pulled up the bottom of his robe and lay down at his feet.

About midnight Boaz roused and discovered there was a woman lying at his feet.

"Who are you?" he asked. "I am your servant Ruth," she replied. "Spread the corner of your covering over me, for you are my family redeemer. "The LORD bless you, my daughter!" Boaz exclaimed. "You are showing even more family loyalty now than you did before, for you have not gone after a younger man, whether rich or poor. Now don't worry about a thing, my daughter. I will do what is necessary, for everyone in town knows you are a virtuous woman. Ruth 3:10-11

Boaz told her to be sure and keep their secret. “Don't let anyone know you have been here with me at the threshing floor.” He gives us a large basket of grain as a present to Naomi and sends her off before daylight.

Boaz was obviously thrilled. But even though he was rich and single, there were still hurdles to be cleared related to the way that people and land were connected. But nothing was going to stop Boaz now. He worked out a deal. He bought Naomi's ancestral land and in the process gained legal right to marry Ruth.

So Boaz and Ruth got married. She became pregnant. The baby was born. Life was good.

Then the women of the town said to Naomi, "Praise the LORD, who has now provided a redeemer for your family! May this child be famous in Israel. May he restore your youth and care for you in your old age. For he is the son of your daughter-in-law who loves you and has been better to you than seven sons!" Naomi took the baby and cuddled him to her breast. And she cared for him as if he were her own. The neighbor women said, "Now at last Naomi has a son again!" And they named him Obed. He became the father of Jesse and the grandfather of David. Ruth 4:14-17

If you had been there and watched Naomi cuddling her grandson, you would have smiled. You would have felt the story came out right. That sense of happy ending in no way would have trivialized the pain and grief both Naomi and Ruth had suffered. They had carried years of grief. And in their new lives, I'm sure they would still sometimes feel the ache of their losses. But, their story is not about loss and grief. It is about the happy ending. It is about the triumph of love.

I am reminded of the words of a country song, “God bless the broken road that led me straight to you.”

In a romantic story, there are always obstacles, hindrances, disappointments, apparent impossibilities. Then when the lovers are finally together, all of that becomes faded memories, hazy behind the glow of the joy of their union.

And our hearts declare that this is right. This is how it should be.

As believers we declare our confidence that the entire human story will come out right. God, the great lover, will triumph. Somehow history will come right. God and his bride will host a grand wedding celebration and the cosmos will be glad.

As we are approaching the beginning of another school year, I encourage you students to remember the ultimate romance, the romance of the triumph of goodness. As you take classes, prepare yourselves professionally and engage with other students, ask how you can help move God's story forward this coming school year.

Parents, God is dreaming with you of the sweet ending of the broken and crooked road that sometimes trips up our kids. Work to respond to your kids in the light of the triumph of goodness. Sure, some of them will break your heart. Some may even do stupid things. (Is that a surprise?) Keep loving. Try not to freak out over the detours and mistakes that seem to be an inescapable part of the story.

The triumph of goodness is sometimes unbelievable. Atheism seems to agree with what we see around us. It asks good questions. Still every time your heart thrills at a movie that comes out right, listen to your heart. It may know something wiser and truer than can ever be contained in formulas

Love wins. And when we train ourselves to be skillful in love, when we practice compassion and justice, we are cooperating with God. We are moving with God in the grand triumph flow of history toward triumphant goodness.