Made Whole

… [A]n inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God's power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.  In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials … 1 Peter 1:4-6

We might think of it this way, just for an exercise, that the unity of the cosmos was shattered at the Fall.  What we need, as humans – as the keepers of creation we were meant to be, is a restoration of that perfect, primordial communion.  Salvation means that we become whole.  The break is healed. 

I am beginning, slowly, to understand why there is so much chicanery and silliness associated with Christianity and enlightenment in general.  It’s very difficult to talk about the relationship between selflessness and tribulation without sounding as though the problems of life are illusions or that God is some kind of sadist or something. 

We are going to grieve in this world, and our grief and our pain are real.  God does not waste our suffering if we are willing to hand it over to Him.  We do not ever have to “go through all this for nothing”.  He will order the broken and jumbled, seemingly random chunks and pieces of life into a stairway that we might ascend. 

The inheritance that is being kept for us is exactly that wholeness or oneness and the barrier to heaven is the self to which we are so attached.  My fear is that an end to my “self” is the same as non-being.  It isn’t.  The one who enters heaven has detached only from the illusory persona, the mask of thoughts and emotions and attitudes that is the old carnal mind.  We mistake the mask we wear and the character we have come to create and inhabit for our being. 

Shatter my illusions, O Lord, that I might be unbroken.

Starman's Lullaby

The road does not go ever on
Here beneath this yellow sun
It's a dance that soon is done
But it's not the only one

I knew a girl with golden hair
Who kissed me sitting on a Frigidaire
We were in love but I was young
I did not know it could come undone

There are worlds where we still love
Bright and hot as the stars above
With so much cold space between
Filling the darkness I have seen

Now I wander 'til the light is green
Sealed in a suit of might have been
Sins so many, chances few
Hoping for a changing hue

I met a man in my blackest night
With his heart he could split the light
Gave me a beam to take me home
To the golden sun from which it shone

This is where I fall asleep
Her eyes catch me from the deep
A new and holy kiss we share
Forever goes for ever there

Consignment

For God has consigned all to disobedience, that he may have mercy on all. -- Romans 11:32

Consign is a verb meaning 1) to hand over, give up or deliver (consigned to prison); 2) to put in the care of another, entrust; 3) to relegate or assign to an undesirable position; 4) to send or deliver goods to be sold.

Various translations, notably the NASB, say "shut up", as if imprisoned.  Wuest's Expanded Translation says, "God included all within the state of unbelief".  Translators split in choosing "unbelief" versus "disobedience".  There really is no difference.  To truly believe is to obey. 

We all -- Jew or Gentile, male or female, aristocrat, peasant, scholar, barbarian -- start out locked down, shut up in the dungeon of unbelief.  We open our eyes in this world, learn its rules, how the system works and how to work the system. 

I would go so far as to say that being so consigned is not a bad thing of itself.  Isn't it a little like hide-and-seek -- that best of all children's games played across wide yards in the long twilight of a mid-summer's evening?  Or maybe it could be compared to that great schoolyard game of dare-base.  Consigned to the prisoners' base, we need a swift and true friend to outrun the opposition, touch us and set us free. 

But, we say, this is not a game.  This is life and death.  Yes, we might want to think about that for a minute.  Life and death, heaven and hell -- we could end up tormented forever because we fooled ourselves into believing the lie and turning away from the truth, because we clung to something passing away -- took this world's game, and ourselves, too seriously -- even as we rejected that which can never pass away. 

It's not a good idea, not when there is mercy poured out upon us all.  He dares, calling out and challenging those that would keep us shut up.  Through their midst, He dashes.   For by thee I have run through a troop; and by my God have I leaped over a wall.  There is the hand of God reaching out, stretching toward us.  All we have to do is stretch out our own hand, lean a little His way.  He's the one who took the risk, takes the risk.  He's the one who runs like a warrior to the battle, to reclaim, redeem, and liberate us. 

He bowed the heavens and came down;
thick darkness was under his feet.
He rode on a cherub and flew;
he came swiftly on the wings of the wind.
He made darkness his covering, his canopy around him,
thick clouds dark with water. (Psalm 18:9-11)

He brought me out into a broad place; he rescued me, because he delighted in me. (Psalm 18:19)

You Are Here ╬

…For they will see what has not been told them, and they will understand what they have not heard. – Isaiah 52:15

The old joke is that some folks from the city were driving through our part of the country. They became lost and stopped at a farmhouse to ask directions. The travelers explained that they are trying to reach a particular destination. The farmer scratched his head and replied, “You can’t get there from here. You’ll have to go some place else and start over.”

Reason is a lot like that. Where you can get to depends on where you start. Reason cannot validate itself. It can only be used to validate based on some assumptions. Both Euclidean and non-Euclidean geometries are based on axioms – certain assumptions that form the foundations on which proofs can be built. That there is more than one geometry is the evidence that proofs are dependent upon the initial axioms.

I have a point of view, a starting place. I believe that God is and is good. I believe that God does not merely exist in the sense that the material world exists, but that He is Real, and, that He is real Good.

Because I start from that point my destination will not be the same as the atheist or the pantheist or the animist. I really have some empathy for those groups because there is a certain appeal to a god who is not real. It is quite convenient to float up science or dryads or fairies when one is in a certain frame of mind – especially when one wants someone else to “play by the rules”. It is equally convenient to be able to ignore the unreal god when one finds it to be a hindrance to one’s own desires. Notice I’m not claiming science doesn’t exist. I’m not even claiming nymphs, fauns, and satyrs don’t exist. I am saying that none of those things are real in the way God is real.

The last few verses in Isaiah 52 begin to speak of the Messiah as the Suffering Servant. Here it is, in verse 14, that we read of Christ’s disfigurement. It is said that He does not even look like a human. If you watch Mel Gibson’s The Passion, you can see this depicted in that painful scourging scene. However, I don’t believe it is sufficient to interpret Isaiah’s statements in terms of the Lord’s physical appearance. When Jesus hung on the cross, the Father hid His face from His Son. He did so, not because the flesh of Jesus was torn, but because Christ was spiritually disfigured by bearing all of our sin. As horribly as the Lord’s body was ripped and battered by Roman whips, it is only a metaphor for the maiming of His spirit by the relentless tooth and claw of sin.

Yet from this rending came redemption -- so He will sprinkle many nations. Kings will shut their mouths because of Him, for they will see what had not been told them, and they will understand what they had not heard.

If we want to get where we need to be, we have to start at the right place. Go to the Cross. We can get home from there.

A Reason for Liberation

And when they came nigh to Jerusalem, unto Bethphage and Bethany at the Mount of Olives, He sent forth two of His disciples and said unto them, “Go your way into the village opposite you, and as soon as ye have entered into it, ye shall find a colt tied, whereon never man sat. Loose him and bring him. And if any man say unto you, ‘Why do ye this?’ say ye that the Lord hath need of him, and straightway he will send him hither.”

And they went their way and found the colt tied outside by the door at a place where two ways met, and they loosed him. And certain of those who stood there said unto them, “What do ye, loosing the colt?” And they said unto them even as Jesus had commanded, and they let them go. – Mark 11:1-6

This is how the triumphal entry into Jerusalem began. Jesus knew who He was. He knew His position, His authority, and His destiny. He was born a king. By entering Jerusalem seated on a donkey that had never been ridden, He was proclaiming the initiation of His rightful rule over mankind. He did not come on a great warhorse as conqueror. When the kingdom passed from David to Solomon, David instructed that his chosen successor should be seated upon his own mule, signifying the peaceful and voluntary transfer of authority from father to son.

The Bible does not say, but it is interesting to speculate that the colt was not only one that had never been ridden – but that it was a first-born colt. If that were the case, it would belong to the Lord. The first-born male of a clean animal had to be sacrificed according to the Law, but the first-born male of an unclean animal, such as the ass, could be redeemed – have a price paid for it in exchange for its life. An animal the owner did not wish to redeem had to have its neck broken. It was understood that these animals did not belong to the person but to the Lord Himself. This would go well with the instruction Jesus gave to say “the Lord hath need of him”.

I have a lot in common with that lowly donkey. Like it I have been redeemed, but most of the time I seem to just be going about the mundane affairs of everyday life, hauling loads, packing someone around, or standing tied to a post. My life appears quite ordinary and untouched by the Divine. Yet, again like that colt, I still belong to the Lord. Though I was redeemed, it only means that the price was paid that I might live, but this life isn’t mine. You are not your own; you have been bought with a price.

I am allowed to pursue my own ends most of the time. My life is not given fulltime in service to God as we normally think of it. I can do my secular job to please my earthly employer, to gain money and status for myself. Or I can take the approach Paul recommends: And whatsoever you do, do it heartily, as unto the Lord and not unto men (Colossian 3:23). I can see that because my life is redeemed and truly belongs to Christ, my thoughts, words, and actions take on a new significance. The trivial becomes profound, the profane is made holy, and the common is injected with glory.

The other thing I have in common with the donkey is that when the Lord had need of me for some special purpose, I am set free. Nothing will be able to hold me back. When the Lord calls, I have no excuse. I am free to bear His easy, light and joyous burden.

Baby Talk

We have spoken of the need of revelation, of faith and of consecration, if we are to live a normal Christian life. But unless we see the end God has in view, we shall never clearly understand why these steps are necessary to lead us to that end. ... What is God’s purpose in creation, and what is his purpose in redemption? Watchman Nee from The Normal Christian Life

Creation and, consequently, redemption have a goal. God, it says, knows the end from the beginning. In the same chapter as the initial quote above, Nee relates the story of meeting an old saint who told him, “Brother, do you know, I cannot do without him? And do you know, he cannot do without me?” The Father will not be satisfied without His children. We are as important to Him as He is to us.

Jesus taught us to pray, “Our Father.” Paul says we have the Spirit of adoption whereby we cry, “Abba, Father.” Abba -- not to be confused with that dreadful ‘70’s pop group for which Sweden owes us reparations – ‘abba’ is the familiar Aramaic name for father, equivalent to ‘dada’ or ‘daddy’ in English, one of the first words a child says. Interestingly, the use of abba or daddy is not derived from the adult so much as from the infant. Babies make all sorts of ba-ba, a-ba-ba, dah, and mah noises. The parents encourage and reinforce these sounds helping the baby to string them together and make everyone happy by saying at some point “mah-mah” or “dah-dah”. We get excited and the baby no doubt thinks, “Cool. I wonder what brought that on?”

So it is with the Father. There is nothing unnatural or formal about our relationship to God in Christ. Through faith we are adopted. The Son of God is our elder Brother and the Father is our Daddy. Our relationship to Him is as loving and close as any parent-child relationship. In a good relationship, the parent is understanding and forgiving; the child is obedient and respectful. As a child I realize my Father has knowledge and wisdom that I do not possess and that there are things I can’t handle.

When I read the story of the Prodigal in Luke 15, I usually think of the son – his errors, his suffering and his restoration. But, as Watchman Nee points out, the story is really about the father who say, “My son who was lost is now found.” This is what God our Father seeks. He wants His children found and returned. God’s purpose in creation was to have sons, to replicate Himself and express His Nature through them. So, too, in redemption He has provided a way of return for those who have strayed.

Once we understand the reason why we are here – that we are created and redeemed to be sons and daughters of God – we can better comprehend why our Father requires certain things. No father likes to see his child unhappy, but no wise father makes a child’s way too easy. Maybe that’s why God is our Father and not our Mother.

As we get the proper perspective, some of the things that happen along the way matter less while others take on greater significance. Our journey begins to make sense. We begin to see how the Father took our mumblings and stumbling and gave them meaning and direction. We see that there was a Hand supporting and steadying us as we took a few steps. We see the Father smile at our childish pride in the “help” we gave Him lifting a load. When I tried but became too weary He carried me.