Today as I write, there is an unarguably smelly man sitting next to me in the public library. In addition to not voting for Obama, he believes Mexicans are the root of a lot the United States’ labor problems, and thinks if we sent all “liberals” to North Korea, we’d solve a lot of problems. I am not sure if he has a home, I am not sure if he has a job, but what I am fairly certain of is that I wish he’d sat at another table. Any table, but mine.
He doesn’t look like me. He doesn’t think like me. Does he share my education level? Possibly … in his rants you can hear some genuine research. Does he have a family like I do? I don’t’ know. Is he actually a hippie that doesn’t shower on purpose? Maybe. Is he happy, sad, does he care anymore? I don’t know. Here’s what I do know: he and I stand before the Savior on equal footing. I am no more and no less than this man when I stand before our Creator, Who had creative license and immense purpose in birthing each of us into a cold world where we might have a chance at bringing a little light. Did I turn out “good” and did he turn out “bad”?
I had someone ask me once why God would allow “bad things” to happen to “good people”. I have also had people ask how God would ever harm His “children”. Do we not get it? Let me make something very clear: we don’t get to write the rules of the God of the Universe. Do we get to define “good” or “bad”? Can we say that those living in third world countries and living a life for Christ that will surely bring death and destruction to their families just got the short end of the stick? Are we so pompous as to decide only those who look like us, eat like us, breathe like us have gotten the “good”. Who are we, in our tiny … tiny … and again for emphasis … TINY world, sphere, limits – to decide that God is harming a plan we are not the authors of? There is no “good” or “bad” within our limits of understanding, there is only that which is of God and that which isn’t, and I am not so sure we have the ability to consciously decipher the two.
And how can God dare touch His “children” with hardship? Dear Friends, who calls himself a child of God? For me, there is protection and assurance that whatever I face, “… we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28). But for you? I cannot say. It is not as simple as assuming all humans are His children. Again, we are pompous creatures. Let me propose the idea that all I can say for humanity, as with the rest of the world, is that we are His creations. There is a difference. He will do what He wishes with his creations, in the same way you would with your little pottery trinkets, your painting, your doodles, your tinfoil balls. We are loved by Him, yes, but not by obligation. He owes us nothing. We are but dust in the wind, filthy tags before His thrown. And we question, form this position, why He doesn’t serve us. How can God possibly send a whole peoples to hell?, I’ve heard. How would God allow war?, I’ve head. Why isn’t He saving us from pain?, I’ve heard. Because, regardless of what my pea-sized brain allows, Friends, God is God.
This illness of believing we ought to serve only a God who serves us first, who makes us His “children” because our mere existence isn’t as simple as a prevalence among those trapped in disbelief (which, of course, has to be of their sheer personal will, because a “loving God” who must look like our earthly understanding of a Father surely cannot predestine or control a man’s salvation!). It runs through our churches, thickly ingrained in our newfound “praise songs” and sermonettes. Have you listened closely, lately, to the words that escape your lips as you lift your hands in praise? Lift them to what? Praise what? Searching your heart and humbling yourself to what? Pay close attention to the lyrics of this popular David Crowder Band song, “oh how He loves us oh how He loves us how He loves us all how He loves yeah He loves us oh how He loves us oh how He loves us yeah He loves us yeah He loves us how He loves us oh how He loves all”. What?
Does He love us? My goodness, more than we know. Do I find my salvation in meditating on how awesomely awesome I have been awesomely blessed? No, and I’ll tell you why; because the moment I am disfigured, the moment I am stripped of my wealth, the moment my family is harmed, the moment my friends turn their backs on me, the moment I lose my job for standing up for my faith, the moment my country isn’t Top Dog … those lyrics will begin to haunt me and my God is suddenly not all I have focused on and my religion is in sudden stark contrast with the life I associated with it. I do not serve God for the gracious love He bestows on me. I serve God, I praise God, I worship God … because I have to.
I was reading a little publication the other day, called “Daily Bread”. It’s a great publication full of snippets of wisdom and Scripture, no doubt a blessing and service to many who read it. That said, the particular devotion I read referred to a modern-day song, by Jonny Diaz, and it’s a beautiful one. In fact, I’ve cried to it before (though, if you know me … all songs make me cry, but still). The lyrics talk about pressures a female in our society faces to be “beautiful” and alludes to the sexual pressures used to fool us into false worth. The chorus, “There could never be a more beautiful you. Don't buy the lies, disguises and hoops, they make you jump through. You were made to fill a purpose that only you could do. So there could never be a more beautiful you”.
The writer of the devotional proceeded to make the connection with an ancient author who shared the same message. David, in the Psalms, “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made”. Woah. Just woah. Can I curse in a piece giving glory to God? If I can; what the hell? If not; gee – what the heck? Here is why David’s song is not a parallel to Jonny Diaz’s. A little English lecture: fearfully and wonderfully are adverbs, not adjectives – they are describer words for the verb, “made”, and therefore painting compliments not to the created, but to the Creator.
So, who cares? Does it make me a cynical jerk to decide God can do without us if He chooses? Am I hardened to not try and explain away the proverbial African tribe that stands the impending venture into hell because they’ve never heard the Gospel? Will realizing earthly “good” and “bad” don’t hold eternal definitions cause me to ignore those temporarily hurting?
Quite the opposite, Brothers and Sisters. It is only when I realize my disposability that I can truly come to the Father in a genuine awe that begs the question, “How could you love me this much?” It is only when I realize I deserve nothing I have, and cannot choose my blessings that I will fall before Him through “good” and through “bad” with the same heart and appreciation. It is when I realize only His blood bridges me from a humble creature to a beloved daughter that I can see why a stinky man who wants to send Mexicans to North Korea is of the same making and needs to hear that God loves Him through the smile I give and eye contact I will refuse to avoid. It is through this understanding - that I am nothing, but that God is everything - that I stop chasing answers to meaningless questions, but fear not delving into the complicated ones.
Quite the opposite, Brothers and Sisters. It is only when I realize my disposability that I can truly come to the Father in a genuine awe that begs the question, “How could you love me this much?” It is only when I realize I deserve nothing I have, and cannot choose my blessings that I will fall before Him through “good” and through “bad” with the same heart and appreciation. It is when I realize only His blood bridges me from a humble creature to a beloved daughter that I can see why a stinky man who wants to send Mexicans to North Korea is of the same making and needs to hear that God loves Him through the smile I give and eye contact I will refuse to avoid. It is through this understanding - that I am nothing, but that God is everything - that I stop chasing answers to meaningless questions, but fear not delving into the complicated ones.
“This is my Father's world, and to my listening ears all nature sings, and round me rings the music of the spheres. This is my Father's world: I rest me in the thought of rocks and trees, of skies and seas; his hand the wonders wrought.
This is my Father's world, the birds their carols raise, the morning light, the lily white, declare their maker's praise. This is my Father's world: he shines in all that's fair; in the rustling grass I hear him pass; he speaks to me everywhere.
This is my Father's world. O let me ne'er forget that though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet. This is my Father's world: why should my heart be sad? The Lord is King; let the heavens ring! God reigns; let the earth be glad!”
JNACK
