Category Archives: Goodness

Hierarchy, patriarchy and the veil

The centerpiece of worship in the Old Testament was the Temple in Jerusalem.

As you travel to Jerusalem, you are singing the Psalms of Ascents with the other pilgrims. No matter where you are coming from, you are going up. Anywhere towards Jerusalem was considered up.

You walk towards the place where David offered the sacrifice that stopped the God’s angel from destroying any more Israelites. It was in that place that Abraham’s arm was prevented from offering Isaac as a sacrifice.

He lifted up his eyes and saw a ram caught in a bush. “In the Mount of the Lord, It will be Provided”.

And now you are heading towards the Temple. When you arrive, you first enter the court of the Gentiles. This is where anyone could enter. Tourists, gentiles, all who wanted just a quick glance at the Great Temple.

But Gentiles, the unclean, the lepers, the emasculated, those who touched dead bodies – could enter no further. Barriers and signs were up. No Gentiles allowed. No admittance. Unclean.

If you were clean, you could proceed into the court of the women. Here the women and children would gather and pray.

But only the men could go any further. In the outer courts of the temple, the sacrifice was offered, the great basin for cleansing sat waiting for the cleansing of the priests, and the men could watch the priests come and go.

In the temple itself, the outer room was the Holy Place. Only the appointed priests could enter there, and then only if they had business there and were wearing the right garments and had cleansed themselves by water and blood.

And in the center of it all was the Holy of Holies, the most holy place of all. It was here that the pillar of fire and the pillar of cloud representing the presence of God settled, and God dwelt with his people. But only the High Priest could go in there.

And only one time a year. The rest of the time a thick veil separated the Ark of God’s Covenant from the world of sinful man. God’s face was hidden, only to be hinted at by the mediation of priests.

No one just walks into God’s throne room, where he “dwells between the cherubim”.

The whole form of worship was an enforced hierarchy. The way into God’s presence was hinted at by shadows and types, but not yet made clear.

We all long to be part of something great, something beyond ourselves. We naturally long for the exclusive clubs, the inner circles, the greetings in the marketplaces.

No one wants to be kicked out. No one desires to be excluded.

Many of us know the feeling of being on the outside. When large groups gather, like after worship on Sunday Morning, circles form. Friends laugh and joke. And some (like me) would try to join the circle. But it would tighten up. My brother or his friends would move to block my access.

Eventually I gave up and pretended it didn’t matter. But it still hurt and I still feel that hurt, because we all long to be a part of something, to be included.

Admit something to me. When you were reading the description of the temple, did you feel as if it wasn’t fair that the gentiles, the unclean, the women, the children were kept out?

This is the emotional response to your yearning to be in God’s presence, in the holiest place of all. No matter how close you could go, you couldn’t just walk past the veil. Imagine the longing to see, the longing to be where all of mankind longs to be.

When men and women were kicked out of Eden, they were removed from God’s presence. “No one looks upon my face and lives”.

THIS is the longing. And no amount of exclusive clubs, golf resorts, circles of friends, membership cards can ever solve it.

There is only one solution. The way to God’s presence must be revealed to us.

When Jesus died; when he cried out “It is finished”, that veil that separated the Holiest Place from sinful humans was torn in two.

The hierarchy was smashed. The gatekeepers were out of work. Eventually the temple of stones was destroyed because God now dwells in the hearts of his people. YOU are the temple of the living God.

And how do you enter into his presence? Just come. Everyone is invited. The blood of Christ has made that way clear.

Yes, God is still holy. Yes, we are still sinners. But Christ has covered you with his blood and washed you with his spirit, and calls you right into his very presence.

19 Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, 20 by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, 21 and since we have a great priest over the house of God, 22 let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. (The New International Version (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011), Heb 10:19–22.)

But here is the difficult part for so many people. If all of this is true (and it is) that means that anyone at all who wants to come in may enter. No one will be denied. Everyone has access to Christ, therefore everyone has access to the throne room of God through the way – the blood of Jesus.

Which means that it isn’t exclusive to men. It isn’t exclusive to the rich, the white, the Jew, the ruling class, the righteous, the religious.

It means ANYONE can come.

And so, so many people refuse to truly come to Christ because they see the riff-raff and say, “Nope.”

And they desperately try to build the hierarchy again. The try to sew that veil together so that – even though they can’t really get to God – at least they can get closer than those people who are outside.

So they step over the velvet barricades held up by the stanchions that they erected and say, “See you, suckers”.

Look at all the losers outside.

But if the temple they are entering is exclusive and shuts out the riff raff, then it isn’t the temple of God.

The temple of the living God dwells in the heart by faith, not by position, wealth, genders, status or selective morality. It is Christ’s righteousness or it is none at all.

This is what bothers me so much about the patriarchalism of modern America and the dominionism of “Christian” politics. It is absolutely dependent upon building the curtain to separate us from them.

The sinners, the women, the children (who are to be beaten until they become useful to me), the immigrant, the poor, the ignorant, the foolish, the sinners – no thanks. If that is what this is about, I’m out of here.

Matthew tells us that Judas made the deal with the Sanhedrin when Jesus told him to leave Mary alone. “She is anointing me for my burial”. If that public display of completely inappropriate behavior, that waste of good money, that lowering yourself to the level of a woman who is a sinner – is what this is about, count me out.

And for all who say, “If God’s grace is for the wrong kind of sinners, I’m out” – eventually the door will be shut.

You stayed away from the feast and couldn’t even sit down to eat because there were too many sinners there. So now you are outside, where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth.

Notice that the anger hasn’t diminished. Even outside the feast, the anger continues, the unfairness of it all.

I’ve worked and I’ve slaved for you and you never gave me anything.

But you are going to feast with THAT GUY???

Don’t you know that he doesn’t vote right? Don’t you know that she is a woman and is supposed to wait for her man? Don’t you know that children are vipers in diapers and not worthy of the feast?

If you are tired of the continual jockeying for position, Jesus says, “Come unto me and rest.”

And he also said, “Whoever comes to me, I will never, ever under any circumstances, cast them out.”

Instead of being angry that Jesus eats and drinks with sinners, it should cause us to rejoice greatly. For that means he eats and drinks with you and me.

That is exactly what the gospel is.

Quit trying to sew the veil back together.

The Spirit and the Bride say, “Come”.

Yes. Sinners. Yes. You. Yes, your children.

Yes, you who have been outcast and excluded, who know the pain of being cast out, who know what it is like outside the camp.

Go outside the camp. Inside the camp is where they are frantically trying to keep you out. They are sewing up veils everywhere to block access.

But outside the city there is a cross and an empty sepulcher. And even greater than that, outside the city is Jesus. He is gathering together all of the outcasts and building a new city. And all you need to do to enter that city is come.

And yes, when you get there there will be sinners and other riff-raff there. Just like you. But they have been washed, cleansed, justified, and made beautiful by the Lamb of God – Just like you.

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Filed under Encouragement, Goodness, Gospel

Is God still Good?

We see the announcement of a pregnancy, and we rejoice. “God is so good!”

God hears our prayers and a job opportunity arrives and we rejoice. “God is so good!”

We recover from the disease. We heal from the surgery. A care package arrives and we rejoice. “God is so good!”

He is good to us, isn’t he? We see the sun and the moon and the stars and we rejoice. We taste the apricot and the wine and the olive oil and we say, “God is so good!”

But what happens when you are on hour number eight- again – in the Emergency Room, fully expecting, “All your tests were normal. Follow up with your regular doctor tomorrow.”

What happens when the specialist that your wife REALLY needs to see as soon as possible can possibly squeeze you in in October?

What happens when you spend year after year watching the one that you love suffer so much and there is nothing anyone can do about it?

What happens when your friend is dying from cancer?

Is God still good then?

Is God still good when the baby is born blind?

Is God still good when your children turn their backs on God?

Is God still good when your friends are suffering and you can’t help at all?

When you are outside the wall of the best health care in the world but you can’t get access?

Is God still good then?

And all you can say is “Lord, save me!” and you know above all that God is good.

It goes deeper than “he has a plan”. That too often just seems trite.

I think it is more like silver in a furnace. Like a launderer’s soap.

Even then, though – that doesn’t really speak of the goodness of God.

What language shall I borrow? What words can I stammer? When “Lord save me” doesn’t quite cover everything, what else can I say?

And yet, there he is. In the bottom of the well. In the depths where I cry. There he is, because he is good.

And if I didn’t spend hour after hour in the emergency room, if I we didn’t suffer together, we wouldn’t have seen it. We would have thought that the goodness of God is the same as oil and wine and bread and new babies.

They are great gifts of God. But they are not God. And when we suffer in the depths, that is where we most often meet him.

He is there when the dross is burning away, where the last remnants of self-help and our arrogant pride and self-assurance are being burned away in the fire, when we are exhausted from the race, and just want to throw in the towel….there he is.

In the valley of the shadow of death. He takes us through because he knows it is the only way to the green pastures.

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Filed under Goodness, Hope

Whispers

There is much that we could get worked up about.

It doesn’t take special insight to know that this world is twisted, broken, oftentimes ugly.

But briefly there are glimpses of justice. Not much, but enough to remind us of perfect justice to come.

Briefly, there are glimpses of beauty. Never enough to quench our thirst, but enough to remind us of beauty beyond our imagining.

Briefly, you might glimpse like a shifting shadow out of the corner of the eye – an echo of Eden. A reminder that God has not cast us off.

An ethereal tune that you can’t quite catch, but it causes deep sighs of longing.

A touch of a lover that reminds you that you are desired

A shimmer of a cool breeze with the hint of jasmine that reminds you of spring

The hint of another country never traveled

The whisper of citrus and plum and berry on the nose of the wine…

The grandkids are laughing.

When you look at the glimpses from one angle, you might be tempted to think that they are God, rather than gifts of his bounty.

You miss the good because you are always searching for the better.

But from another angle, you might miss those glimpses because you are too angry that the world isn’t what it is supposed to be.

So the jasmine goes by unnoticed.

The music goes unheard because you don’t like her politics.

The wine isn’t French or Napa so you miss its bouquet…

You’re too afraid of lust to notice that her hair is shimmering in the sunlight.

You’re too afraid of catching sin to smile and be kind.

You miss the joy of the kids because you demanded idols to justify your wisdom and strength, and instead you got kids with their own minds who mystify you.

Don’t miss the joy. Don’t miss the beauty.

It isn’t God. But it is from God.

It points to God.

Jesus will come again and when the marriage supper of the lamb is served it will be perfect.

Justice will be perfect. Beauty will be perfect. Contentment will be perfect.

Fellowship will be perfect.

So smile. Listen to that beautiful music. Sit and smell the jasmine. It fades quickly.

The whispers go away quickly. We fade and die. But He remembers our frailty…

So teach us to number our days.

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Filed under Encouragement, Goodness, Light

Things for the New Year

Things to do for 2021, in no particular order:

Meditate on things that make you smile.

Think about things that are beautiful.

Sit on the porch and look for birds.

Listen to a kind of music that you have never listened to. Put the effort in to appreciate something different. Beauty is worth the effort.

Listen to someone who has different political views without viewing them as an enemy to be destroyed. You might learn something. At least you will be stronger in your own conviction. You might actually change your mind about something.

Understand that changing your mind about something is absolutely necessary for spiritual growth.

Kiss your spouse every day.

Quit thinking all the time about who is in charge and simply enjoy the ride.

Slow down. Smell the wine. Swirl it around the tongue. Try to understand what the label is talking about.

Think about the people you are going to hug when this is all over.

Call someone who is lonely and ask them how you can pray for them.

Stop being afraid of everything.

Go outside and walk beside a river.

Find a bird sanctuary and sit and listen. Leave your phone at home.

Give a cold bottle of water to a homeless person on a hot day.

Quit dividing the world into us and them. Reject all notions of the “repugnant cultural other”, and learn to honor the dignity of the image-bearer of God in front of you, no matter who they are.

Buy a coloring book and crayons.

Forget the label and just have chips and queso. Just know when to stop.

Clean out your closets. You might find a memory.

Wear the clothes that you like to wear.

Buy a pair of fabulous socks.

Pray for your pastor every day.

For each of the things above, for the crisp air, the fabulous wine, the birds in the sanctuary, the sound of the river, the flowers in the grass, the chips and queso, the colors and sounds and textures – just stop for a minute and give thanks to our great God and Father, who makes all things.

And give thanks to Christ who has redeemed us by his blood and made us kings and priests.

And give thanks to the Holy Spirit who breathes life into us so that we can see and hear and taste and touch and marvel and the wisdom and beauty and faithfulness of our Father.

O that men would praise the Lord for his covenant faithfulness, for his works of wonder among the children of men!

Happy New Years!

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Filed under Goodness, Hope, Thankfulness

A Loathsome Vermin?

Jonathan Edwards’ sermon, “Sinners in the hands of an angry God” taught generations of American church-goers that God views us as disgusting vermin, barely tolerable and loathsome in his eyes, as revolting as a spider on a thread.

I believe that sin is far, far worse than we can even fathom, but it is precisely because of the exaltation of mankind as the image-bearer of God (Psalm 8) that sin arouses such wrath in a holy God.

If we were disgusting vermin, sin would not have aroused God’s pity and compassion. It is precisely because of God’s love for us that he is determined to deliver us from the bondage of sin, so much so that he gave his only begotten son, and delivered him up for us all.

The truth is that our sin nature is not part of God’s original design, but a result of man’s fall. God has provided a redeemer because of his great love wherewith he loved us. Christ came to restore that which was lost. (John 3:16)

If you do not believe in the Lord Jesus, come to him to find your value and worth in him. No one that comes to him will be cast out. He calls you to himself because you are created in his image and sin has defaced that image and made it ugly. Come to him for cleansing and healing and forgiveness. You are a great sinner in need of great grace for the wrath of God is coming. But that is different than saying that you are a disgusting vermin. God desires that you be all that you can be and he calls to you to be free from the bondage of sin through faith in the Son of God.

If you are in Christ, you are also not a disgusting vermin, barely tolerable by God. You are a child of his love, a first-born heir of eternal life in Christ. You are a special treasure, a royal priesthood, his bride, his body and he loves you with an infinite love that surpasses anything we know on this earth.

The goal of the Christian life is not to try to make yourself less loathsome to God. The goal is to rest in his love, believe in his promises, understand his compassion, and grow in his grace.

It is the language of a reviler and an abuser – the language of the devil – that tears down the image of God in a person. The devil reviles. “You are loathsome. You are disgusting. God barely tolerates you, you revolting worm. He can’t wait to throw you into hell.” This motivates no one to good works, to love, to worship. We become what is expected of us. Religion is turned into a crowd of groveling worms trying to outdo each other in false humility.

But this is not the good news. The good news is that no matter how great your sin is, you have a far greater savior, who loves you and gave himself for you. He is restoring his image in you that you might finally be free and clean and stand before him whole and complete. His compassions don’t fail. His mercy is everlasting. His love is infinite.

His love for you calls you out of hiding, and says to you, “Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more.”

Rather than viewing us as loathsome, revolting insects, he is a friend of sinners. This knowledge calls to us, invites us to him and drives us to confession, worship and adoration.

“And this is eternal life, that they might know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent.”

Imagine a young woman. She grows up in an abusive environment. Suppose her church was tremendously influenced by Elisabeth Elliot, Joshua Harris, and the purity culture – as an example. So she was taught that purity is the same as holiness, and when you loose your virginity, you spoiled your “rose” so that no man would ever want it.

She has been repeatedly raped and molested for years. Or just once. The dynamic is the same. Her abusers have impressed upon her that she is worthless, ugly, loathsome. That she deserved it.

Her worst fear is that God also finds her to be a loathsome vermin.

She has “lost her virginity” and can never get it back so she makes the connection.

No one will ever want me. I am loathsome. I am a vermin, disgusting to God and man.

She might dare to hope that one day, all of those good things that she hears about will apply to her – but for the most part, love and joy, peace and rest, intimacy and glory – those things are for the others, not for her.

And then she reads “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God” and discovers that the “greatest theologian in American history” has validated her conclusion. She is indeed loathsome and disgusting, a spider or other loathsome insect dangling over hell.

I wonder how many other suicides took place in New England after that sermon…..

Should not the message of the church be “Jesus, the friend of publicans and sinners” who touches us and says, “I am willing; be clean”.

You are washed, cleansed, purified, whole, complete and loved by your father in heaven for the sake of Christ, if only you accept such benefit with a believing heart.

Come to him and rest. Jesus doesn’t find you disgusting. He came to seek and to save that which was lost. He hates sin and desires all men everywhere repent and believe.

But he doesn’t find you disgusting.

He is angry at rebellion and sin. His wrath abides upon the unbeliever so long as they are not converted. But he doesn’t find you disgusting.

He is calling you with open arms, with goodness and mercy and compassion, as a nursing mother has compassion on her child. Come to him. He won’t cast you away.

He will clothe you in his righteousness, he will glorify you with the same glory that he is glorified with himself.

You are not “barely tolerable” in the eyes of God. Rest in his love.

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Filed under Abuse, Faith, Goodness, Gospel

Let not the sun go down upon your wrath

Many of us were brought up with the influential book Competent to Counsel by Jay Adams.

In that book, and the companion book The Christian Counselor’s Manual, Adams sets forth his system that became known as Nouthetic Counseling, which became tremendously influential. Many, in fact, teach that Nouthetic Counseling is the only true Biblical counseling. I have heard many pastors and professors teach that anyone who seeks another kind of counseling should be disciplined by the church.

Harsh treatment, indeed.

The first book is now almost 50 years old, and I wonder if it has brought forth good fruit or bad fruit. Theology has consequences.

But even more than that, now that I am older I am starting to see some of the problems. I am wondering if it is biblical. It is my position that “Biblical Counseling” is neither biblical, nor is it counseling.

But that thesis is too great for one blog. I would like to simply look at one example: Adams treatment of Ephesians 4:26.

Be angry, and sin not; let not the sun go down upon your wrath.

Adams’ interpretation of this passage is found in Competent to Counsel beginning on page 220. He alludes to this interpretation throughout the book. Reconciliation is a big theme with Adams. In fact, I do not believe that it is over-simplifying his theory by saying that he contends that virtually every inter-personal conflict of every kind can be resolved by following the steps of Matthew 18. (See The Christian Counselor’s Manuel, page 52 and following).

His interpretation of Ephesians 4:26 fits into his thesis. He writes on this passage,

…Paul says that Christians must not allow one single day to pass with unresolved anger stored in their hearts. The principle is clearly set forth: “Do not let the sun go down upon your wrath.” In other words, every day Christians must handle the problems that have arisen. This does not mean that others must be confronted about every sin which they have committed. There are many matters that can be covered over by love…Yet there are some things that cannot be set to rest simply by covering them with love. They continue to rattle around down inside; they fester and eat away. Such problems need to be settled daily by personal confrontation. (Competent, 222)

At first glance, it seems practical and even Biblical. We all know those people who carry anger around with them and divide and destroy one another each day. The scripture is clear that we are to lay aside resentment and wrath and malice. Walking in love does indeed separate us from the world.

But at a closer glance, and now 50 years later, we see problems emerge. He does not define which problems are big enough to “confront” and which to “let go” except the ones that one cannot just let go must be confronted.

Suppose a woman has not gotten dinner on the table on time, and her husband, who loves to bully and threaten, decides that this is something that must be settled by personal confrontation. So he rails, reviles, threatens his wife, refusing to let her sleep until his anger is dissipated, only to start it again the next day – because they have to be reconciled daily.

Before you say, “That never happens”, just stop. It does. All the time. Until 2 or 3 in the morning, or all night. The favorite tactic of a son of the devil is to deprive his target of sleep, and Adams gives him the perfect excuse. He gets to define what sin must be confronted all night, and he must resolve it or she cannot go to bed.

To be sure, Adams would not condone abusive behavior. In fact, he might even confront it harshly. His disciples often do. But the heart of the issue remains, and the husband asserts his right to vomit his anger on his wife again the next time he feels like it.

Is this truly what this verse is telling us? Is the problem the practice, or is it the interpretation of the verse? It is saying that my anger is the fault of another who must be forced to bend to my will before I go to bed? This is how many tens of thousands of Adams disciples take it.

One of the problems with this interpretation is Psalm 4. Some, like Hendrickson, simply say that Paul quotes the Psalm and uses it for his own purposes. But there is no attempt to explain why Paul quotes this Psalm if his purpose is to teach about personal reconciliation.

Psalm 4 has nothing whatever to do with reconciling personal relationships. It has to do with worship. And Paul is using it the same way, being faithful to the text. The Ephesian Christians were also subject to injustice and wickedness and persecution.  Here is Psalm 4:

Hear me when I call, O God of my righteousness! You have relieved me in my distress; Have mercy on me, and hear my prayer.
2 How long, O you sons of men, Will you turn my glory to shame? How long will you love worthlessness And seek falsehood?
3 But know that the LORD has set apart for Himself him who is godly; The LORD will hear when I call to Him.
4 Be angry, and do not sin. Meditate within your heart on your bed, and be still.
5 Offer the sacrifices of righteousness, And put your trust in the LORD.
6 There are many who say, “Who will show us any good?” LORD, lift up the light of Your countenance upon us.
7 You have put gladness in my heart, More than in the season that their grain and wine increased.
8 I will both lie down in peace, and sleep; For You alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety.

This is a Psalm of David, ultimately fulfilled in Christ. David was hounded, persecuted, driven from home, slandered, and greatly abused.

Christ also, as our mediator, suffered greatly at the hands of wicked men. And it made him angry.

It is true that when he was reviled, he did not revile in return. It is true that he didn’t carry resentment around. But he was angry at hard hearts. He was angry at death, the old enemy. He was angry at the hatred and envy and lying and murder that the religious leaders stored up in their hearts.

But being without sin, Christ used that anger to worship God and to deepen his trust (according to his human nature and office of mediator), and that is what this Psalm is about.

The Lord sanctifies and sets apart. The Lord has not abandoned us to the rage and hatred of bullies and oppressors, but has promised redemption. He is coming in judgment.

And he allows us to sleep at night because he loves us. “I will lay down and sleep because the Lord makes me dwell safely.”

So at night, when your anger is bubbling over; when the blasphemy and oppression and injustice of the wicked one seems far too powerful, far too brutal, far to great for someone like you to handle, remember this: It isn’t too small for God. He puts gladness in the heart. Put your trust in his promises and sleep, dear ones, for God is faithful and true and just. And he sees.

He sees Hagar fleeing with her son. He sees Moses in the wilderness. He sees David in hiding in the cave. And he sees you.

Instead of anger at night, meditate on that and be still.

You see, Paul is not talking about personal confrontation. That makes your anger (whether it is just or unjust) someone else’s problem. Further, why are you so angry with your children or your spouse that you are trembling with rage (which is the word in Psalm 4) at them. Are they truly your enemies?

Enemies, though, can cause great fear and helpless, despairing anger. And the way to put it off is not to shut off your feelings. It is to turn to the Lord in worship.

Be angry. Injustice, reviling, blasphemy, crime, slander, destruction, senseless crime, abortion, immorality, is ugly and hateful.

Be angry at the things God is angry over. Don’t be angry that moths and rust destroyed what moths and rust destroys. That’s what happens in this cursed world.

Be angry, but sin not.

And when you are angry and what God is angry at, take heart that his anger is perfect. His justice is perfect. He will take care of it. “Vengeance is mine,” saith the Lord.

So leave it in his hands. The injustice and wrongs of the day, the folly and slanders of the day, the attacks of the day – be angry. But when the sun goes down, go outside. Look at the stars. See if you can count them. Remember God’s promise to Abraham. He doesn’t lie.

And then take a deep breath. Open up a bottle of wine. Kiss your wife. Hug your children. Get out a board game.

Cut some pie. Put some whipped cream right on it.

Look back at the sky. He who created those stars hates injustice far more than you do.

He who spread out that black canvas to paint the galaxies on hates the slaughter of infants more than you do

He who feeds those coyotes that you hear howling and he gave the crickets their song hates theft and murder and greed and adultery more that you ever could.

So finish your pie. Kiss your wife again.

Don’t let the sun go down on your wrath. Don’t let your anger consume you. Don’t let it grow into that little ball of hatred that poisons everything.

Don’t let your anger consume you so much that you miss talking to a friend, you miss the smell of the night sky, the autumn night, the beauty of the creator, the calling of the dove and the hoot of the owl.

Be angry. But sin not.

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Filed under counseling, Goodness, Pastoral ministry

The goodness of God

17 Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines; the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls:
  18 Yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will joy in the God of my salvation.
  19 The LORD God is my strength, and he will make my feet like hinds’ feet, and he will make me to walk upon mine high places (Hab 3:17-19).

God’s people were suffering under tremendous injustice. The kings were wicked. The princes were wicked. The judges were wicked. But God is still good.

God is about to punish the wickedness of the nation with the invasion of Chaldeans. It would be brutal, harsh, deadly. Most would not live. But God is still good.

Some times fig trees don’t blossom. But God is still good.

Some times the grapes don’t grow. But God is still good.

Sometimes the wheat fields fail. Sometimes the flocks die. Sometimes plague takes away the cattle. But God is still good.

God is sovereign over sickness, cattle, fig trees, olive trees. If they don’t blossom, it is by God’s decree. If they die in the field, it is by God’s decree. When children get sick, it is by God’s decree. A God who has no power over sickness and health is not a God to worship at all.

God is beyond easy answers, mindless platitudes, memes with pretty pictures, and viral sloganeering. He doesn’t fit into your boxes. But he is still good.

We only see part of the tapestry. He sees the “end from the beginning”. And he is still good.

We see only a little bit of the tapestry and we are inside of it. We are a part of created order, creatures of time and space and limits. But he is outside seeing the whole – and it fits into his perfect decree. Not one fallen hair out of place. And he is still good.

His goodness is seen in the beauty of the fig tree, the joy of the olives, the delights of good wine. In the perfectly cooked roast and the wondrously spicy curried lamb.

His goodness is in the children around the table like shoots of an olive tree. In full larders and green meadows and the sound of surf on a spring morning in Oregon.

But he is beyond easy answers. Because sometimes the fig tree fails. Sometimes the olives don’t blossom. And he is still good. He prepares a table for me, but I am still in the presence of enemies. God’s goodness is seen even in suffering, if we have the eyes to see.

I suppose that certain theological persuasions are trying to be helpful when they tell me that it is not God’s will for people to be sick. But it really isn’t helpful because it isn’t true, and lies are never comforting. Sometimes the truth is hard, but it is always better than a lie.

Who’s will is it, then, that there is sickness? Is there something outside of God’s decree? Is there something outside of God’s control? Is there someone or something that is in charge of illness that isn’t good? Of course not. There is only one God, only one Lord, only one Creator. Only one sovereign.

But the hard truth is this:

Crops fail, and God is still good.

Children suffer, and God is still good.

Death still happens, and God is still good.

He isn’t ignoring suffering. He isn’t delighting in the suffering of his people. But he isn’t out of control either.

Not one hair falls, not one sparrow falls, apart from God’s decree. But hairs and sparrows still fall.

And God is still good. And I can’t sort all of that out, but I can cry out to him. I can’t sort it out because I am in the tapestry of creation and I don’t see everything. But I know he does.

And here is what I know. He hears me when I cry to him. He loves me and receives me as his child in Christ. He has washed away my sin.

I will walk on high places and my feet will one day leap and dance like an antelope.

And until that day, even in suffering, I know I can trust him.

Because he is still good.

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