When I read through the Old Testament (OT), which is very often, I find the pictures of God painted in many of the texts to be confusing at times. God’s commands to wipe out entire populations of people (men, women, and young children) are disturbing, if not downright offensive, to me. Have any of you ever felt that way reading about some of these things?
But the OT, too, is replete with example after example of aspects of God’s character that point to His awesome and genuine Heart of loving-kindness.
The portraits of God painted by David in the Psalms are, I think, some of the most beautiful I’ve ever beheld, and I know that millions of people have been inspired similarly by such things…
Your love is better than life.—Psalm 63
Many, O Lord my God, are the wonders you have done. The things You planned for us, no one can recount to You; were I to speak and tell of them, they would be too many to declare.—Psalm 40
Your word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.—Psalm 119
The Lord is my Shepherd…I shall not be in want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures, He leadeth me beside the still and quiet waters, He resotreth my soul.—Psalm 23
The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life, of whom shall I be afraid?—Psalm 27
I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in Whom I trust.”—Psalm 91
Surely goodness and loving-kindness shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever and ever and ever.—Psalm 23
I have seen you in the sanctuary and beheld your power and your glory.—Psalm 63
I waited patiently for the Lord. He turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit—out of the mud and mire. He set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God.—Psalm 40
I will sing of the Lord’s great love forever; with my mouth, I will make Your faithfulness known through all generations. I will declare that Your love stands firm forever, that You established Your faithfulness in heaven itself.—Psalm 89
My soul clings to You; Your Right Hand upholds me.—Psalm 63
By day, the Lord directs His love; at night, His Song is with me—a prayer to the God of my life.—Psalm 42
In the day of trouble He will keep me safe in His dwelling; He will hide me in the shelter of His tabernacle and set me high upon a rock.—Psalm 27
And then there’s Hosea, who was commanded by God to marry a prostitute to demonstrate graphically to the Children of Israel the pain God experiences when His children turn from Him and pursue adulterous relationships with man-made gods. For those of you who are or have been married, can you think of anything more painful or devastating than to learn that your husband or wife was or is having an affair? Having experienced what it's like to have a spouse fall into an affair, it's hard for me to imagine anything more painful, and, yet, that is what God feels when those He loves so tenderly dessert Him and pursue other loves.
And then there’s Jeremiah, who gives great voice to the very Heart of God…
“For I have loved you with an everlasting love.”
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord. “Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you a hope and a future.”
I’ve wondered sometimes if part of the reason Jesus came to earth was to show us what God is really like (even at the risk of confusing us more) and, perhaps, to clear up some of our wildly divergent misunderstandings from the past.
Throughout His teachings, Jesus sought to emphasize how important we are to God as individuals and as a family of human beings. He sought, also, to remind us that each of us are eternal beings intended to be a part of God’s eternal family. Central to His message, too, was the fact that we need God to do for us something that we cannot do on our own.
My understanding from my limited study of history is that Jesus lived on earth about 2,000 years ago, claimed to be God in human form, did and said things no one else ever did or said before him (or since), predicted his death and resurrection, was killed by the Romans and religious establishment of the day, rose from the dead three days later, and commissioned his friends to spread the news of God’s great love and plans for humanity. It is my understanding, too, that many of his closest friends were murdered, not for their belief, not for patriotism, not even for a cause, but for what they’d seen: This Jesus, who had been brutally murdered just a few days before, alive once again. Was Jesus Who He said he was?—God in the flesh? I believe He was, but, under my own admission, this is my belief and is not intended to be a statement of fact. Please understand that I am not trying to convince you of anything—because I can’t. I just want to give you a glimpse into the perspective from which I draw most of my conclusions about life, death, God, and eternity. And, to be perfectly honest, I am very interested in understanding your perspective as well.
It was suggested to me once, many years ago, that, to find true illumination in life, I needed to give up my concept of God and of life eternal. (By life eternal, I mean my continued existence [beyond death] and my eternal consciousness of that unique existence.) Quite honestly, to give up my concept of God and of life eternal does not feel enlightening at all; in fact, it feels like a pathway to complete and utter despair.
And here’s why…
If there is no God or life eternal, then life has no meaning, and, as Bertrand Russell, the great atheistic philosopher and humanist wrote, “When I die, I rot.” While I appreciate his honesty, I can think of no greater place of despair than to conclude that there is nothing more to life than this physical world.
If there is no God, life has no meaning, includes no design, and has no ultimate purpose. If there is no God, then the notion of human life having value and dignity is a joke. You and I are no more than just hunks of primeval slime evolved to a higher order. You, my friend, are a good-looking accident, and that is what I am (regarding me, some might argue otherwise!).
If there is no God, then don’t talk to me about morality. Don’t talk to me about injustice or the slaughter of innocent human beings as being absolutely wrong. Don’t talk to me about the sex-trafficking of children being absolutely wrong. Don’t talk to me about rape being absolutely wrong. If there is no God, then morality is totally relative, totally subjective. Morality is really just a matter of personal opinion. You have your opinion, and I, of course, have mine, and mine is just as valid as yours. Maybe you think that rape is wrong, but maybe I have an uncontrollable sex drive. And maybe I think rape helps me to release my sex drive. And, since there really is no right or wrong, my beliefs are just as correct as yours. (I’m just being brutally honest here.) Maybe you think it’s good to give, but maybe I think it’s better to get—and to get as much of whatever it is I want as possible. For you see, my atheistic/agnostic friend, statistically speaking, I probably have no more than 60-80 years here on planet earth, and when I die, I’m not taking any of it with me.
Friends...I can think of nothing that will lead to greater despair than such a world view. To me, living in accordance with such nonsense is, I believe, a lousy response to the evidences of created purpose, value, and design that life provides all of us. For some of us, perhaps, we just need to wake up and smell the cosmos.
I believe in God because I have concluded that there is sufficient evidence to point to His existence. I believe in Jesus because I believe that the evidences of His life, teachings, death, and resurrection point to His being the Truth. And, if He is the Truth, than everything He said is true (and anything that's said that contradicts Him is a lie!), and, believe you me, I take GREAT comfort in the Truths He’s spoken. One of those Truths, perhaps one of His most famous, is recorded in John 3:16, which reads as follows:
For God so loved the world that he gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.
I, my friends, take great comfort in those very Words.
The Bible teaches that God is Spirit. Quite honestly, I’m not really sure what that means. I do believe God intends for me to have a consciousness of Him as a Personal Being. He doesn’t necessarily have to have a physical form on which I can focus the eyes of my mind, but I do think I need a concept of Him. I can’t see air, but I know it’s there when I breathe or when I’m running and can feel its invisible substance as it moves past me.
I’m very invested in me as a person and in my relationship with God and with those I love in my life. I don’t want “me” to end, you know? Yes, someday I will die. How much of “me” will be in the “I” that dies, I have no idea. I believe and, I think, NEED to believe (perhaps even desperately so) that, when I die, a part of me will live on and that I will be conscious of the “me” that does live on. Jesus spoke of heaven often. He called it His Father’s house, and He said He would go there ahead of us to prepare a room for each one of us. Again, I find His Words to be so very comforting.
As far as my own person hood is concerned, I do believe that I am the result of an idea birthed in the very Mind and Heart of God. But I am an idea farther down the line than just the idea of human. I am the unique idea of Dave, a sub-idea somewhere under the idea of human.
Jesus promised that, when we die, our souls will be united with new bodies. What does that mean to you? I’ve spent a lot of time observing nature. It’s interesting, to me, that nature really has no garbage, that everything is used and reused again and again and again. Will I, as Dave, be recycled too? And if so, will the consciousness I have as Dave be lost in that recycling? I don’t believe so, but, again—and I’m just being honest, here, this is probably one of my single greatest fears: that the unique idea of Dave will be gone forever when I die. I don’t want to lose my consciousness.
Jesus commanded us to love God and to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. And Jesus said that loving others is just like loving God. To love myself and my neighbor is to love God, for He is alive in all of us. To love another is to cherish and honor that person and to wish for that person the highest good. To love myself is to cherish and honor who I am and to wish for me the highest good, too. And what is that haighest good? The highest good that I can wish for me or another? I can think of nothing greater than life eternal in the presence of a loving God, family, and good friends. I so do not want to lose what I have in being me in my spirit and consciousness. Do you feel these kinds of things, too?
As much as I am in love with the Lord Jesus, and as much as I believe Him to be the Truth, I know (and God does, too) that I am quite fragile as a person and that I am one who still carries within him some very real questions about things. I’m not sure if I’ve succeeded in painting a complete picture of the things stirring within my soul, but, it is my hope, that I have succeeded in letting you know that while I am a man of deep faith, I am, also, a man fraught with a multitude of human frailties. When you get a chance, I would love to hear your perspective on some of what I’ve tried so very hard to put into words. Thank you for, at least, taking the time to read through what I’ve written.
God’s peace to all of you, and may your celebrations of Holy Week, this year, draw you close in to the embracing and loving Arms of Jesus.
Your friend,
Daver
Regarding the apologetic nature of the above, I wish to express my deep gratitude to Cliff Knechtle (http://givemeananswer.org), my brother in Jesus, who was, at one time, an evangelism specialist with Inter-Varsity Christian Fellowship. Cliff has had a huge impact on my life since I first met him at Virginia Tech in the spring of 1985.
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