Creeping New Age

I recently exchanged a couple of emails with a thoughtful person in my church who has spent some serious time mixing Christian faith and New Age philosophy. It really forced me to articulate the Truth as it relates to, er, resides in Jesus… Check it out
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Hi Seth,
Thank you for the invitation to email you with some questions/thoughts I have had for quite some time.
 
Yesterday when you discussed by believing in Jesus we receive a deposit of the Holy Spirit that then dwells within us, it got me thinking.  I have a very naive way of looking at things and try to make them as simple as possible, and my knowledge of the scriptures is by no way as extensive or expansive as yours, and I wonder if I may oversimplify things.
 
To begin, I mentioned that I view God as the Creator of all things, and being such, when he brings things to life;  creates us, would that not equate to his spirit being deposited in us? Meaning, are we all created with a deposit of God’s Spirit; a divine spark or potential, that waits to be ignited,?  When I think of this I remember scriptures that say that we are a temple and God’s spirit dwells within.  But to think of unity among all men, I think of the scripture we are all one in Christ; and not to consider ourselves seperated by creed, sex, race.  Which I think also speaks to the possibility and hope of reconcilation between Gentiles and Jews; all mankind.
 
Having said that, Jesus is the truth, the life and the way.  So here I think about the maturation of our spirit; our spiritual journey, through which we have to decide  to use the free will God gave us, and make those choices in life that show our obediencne to God and  surrending to His Way/Will. 
 
You mentioned duality and I enjoy analyzing that and the duality that exists in each of us, the stuggle between flesh and spirit.  I also think about the importance of the covenant of marriage, and the idea of one flesh.  And after learning to love God first foremost, then learning to love our spouse with a perfect love, and serve them before ourselves.  Again the duality; one of selfishness and selflessness.   Jesus did this so perfectly, and I believe we are all called to do the same, let Christ’s love shine through us.  A Chinese proverb I believe that pops to mind is ” We come to love, not by finding the perfect person, but learning to love the imperfect person perfectly”.  I really feel in my heart this is where the foundation for unity flows from.
 
Also, my ideas of the reflection of the Trinity within us;  body, mind and soul/spirit, and in pyschological realms the id, ego and superego and learning to bring things into harmony is something that gets my mind going.  Just food for thought.
 
Seth,  these are just some ideas I have formed over the years.  I have read all sorts of things, attended different churches, read lots of New Age and metaphysical stuff, and I try make sense of what feels like the truth. But unity is a big thing for me and God’s truth in all things and every aspect of life.  I would welcome any scriptures you would recommend to address these, or opinions, because I think I may over simplfy some very complex things.
 
I hope this makes sense, and I didn’t ramble, but I welcome any insights or thoughts you have.  Thanks alot and have a blessed day…
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Subject: Re: Questions from last night
Thanks for your thoughts,
I don’t think you’ve oversimplified anything, nor do I think they’re so complex that you should be in fear of doing so. I think the crux of understanding God’s Spirit is understanding God’s story – the uniquely true story of redemption that is found in the Jewish and Christian scriptures. All other versions of truth have elements of it, but fall short of the definition of truth, which/who is a person – Jesus. All that he said and did, all that he embodied, was more than an example of a metaphysical truth identifiable in all things and/or all faiths . He was the Truth. I think that moment when Jesus stood before Pilate is important (Jn 18). Pilate was looking for truth as some disembodied reality that guides or ascribes meaning to humanity and goodness. The irony is that Jesus was standing there not just as an example of true humanity and goodness by the life he lived, but as the only MEANS to it. Not a path to truth, but Truth itself. Metaphysical truth is not in some way bigger than Jesus, which is what a lot of New Age philosophy teaches. Truth, which is about authority over all falsehood or partial truth, is contained in him (Rev. 19:11). It emanates from him. That’s really what faith is about. It says, “My search has found it’s conclusion in Christ alone. All that can be known about the meaning and value of creation is answered in him.” The questions we ask, the search for truth, have come from God. And so has the answer and the object of our seeking. That’s why the idea of the knowledge of Christ is such a key theme for Paul and Peter (2Cor 2:14, Eph 4:13, Titus 1:1, 2Peter 1:3) All true knowing is in Him – sometimes it’s the simple confidence that Christ is on the throne – a reality that can permeate our decisions and attitudes if we desire it. It may not give us intellectual light, but it does empower us to BE. And I think that’s the nature of truth: Not that it always informs, but it transforms us to be agents of Truth in a world replete with confusion and doubt.
 
So what makes him the Truth? He reveals both the central problem of humanity and is its singular solution. Humanity is fallen. Jesus is it’s redemption. The world is in utter darkness. Jesus is the one true Light of the world. Humanity is lost. Jesus provides the one Way back to the one place of our richest belonging – the Father’s house, the “garden” of his presence – yet again.
 
Scripture teaches us that every person has inherited a completely sinful nature from Adam (1 Cor 15). The image and likeness of God has been marred utterly by sin and separation. The spark has been snuffed out. In fact, there is no wick remaining. To believe in Jesus and receive his Spirit is to have the flame of true humanity and God’s image and likeness (even His righteousness) recast and “reignited”. Yes, we all have the potential, but God’s presence is not in us whatsoever by his Spirit before we accept the truth. We’d all like to believe that humanity is inherently good and needs just a little spiritual tweaking. But Scripture tells us we must be recreated as something entirely new. Born again (John 3). On a new order. Of a new “material,” even.
 
While love is a learning process as you’ve said, the perfect love we strive for comes only by our transformation through a relationship with Jesus – an acceptance of not only his ethics, but our inadequacy without him and his empowerment (weakness/strength). It’s not that we need what he teaches so that we can love. It’s that we need HIM.
 
As for unity, I think the essential unity of all humanity is our common need for redemption and our commonality as objects of God’s love. Whatever the creed, race or ethnicity. What being human tells us is that we are none of us better than others. That’s our equality. Not equally good, but equally fallen and yet loved by God. Worthy of equal dignity and respect and redemption in the sight of everyone. And so grace is what unifies even the believer and the nonbeliever because it is not our doing that saves us, but God’s alone. Our need for God. When I think of a spiritual unity between all people I think only of our need for God.
 
I hope this helps. Thanks for trusting me with your questions.
Seth

Stereophonic Guilt

That’s right. The kind that hits you from all sides. In my case, it’s the guilt of putting away my laptop and/ or leaving the office dancing on my right temporal lobe, while the guilt of arriving home later than hoped bombards my left. It’s inner guilt, not imposed by my wife or one of my superiors. I feel like the quality of my investments is in a stranglehold to the quantity of my investments. I want to do more and every bit of “more” makes something else “less.” I just read an article about “Saying No.” It went, “Blah, blah, so on and so forth.” Same old blathering on.

The problem is this: Ministry is about inputs (not outputs) and unless you’re shallow enough to feel satisfied with large attendance numbers, you’re going to hate saying “no” when you feel you could (should) have studied harder, prayed longer, connected more deeply, drove the nail deeper into the paradigm that church stuff just has to be adequate, not excellent. Beyond this, I have some genuine friendships with people who do not know the Jesus I know. And I don’t have time for them. Then there’s the second “secular” job. I could blame the tyranny of my income needs and my time constraints on my standard of living, but its not that simple. The bottom line is 2 people in my home have to work - and our kids (2 yrs/ 9mos) go to day care to be raised by people who don’t love them - or 1 of us has to have 2 jobs. I could cut my mortgage in half, drop back to one car, drink Folgers and use cloth diapers with those enormous pins. We still can’t make it on one income. We crunched the numbers.

I’m convinced that God is teaching me something. I wish I knew what. There is a part of me, though, that thinks things are exactly as he’s intended for me. I’m not doing this to get rich. I don’t give a flying flip what the Joneses think anymore. I’m not trying to find myself. I don’t have a blind sense of duty. I don’t have a ”saviour complex.” I’ve been around enough amazing people to know I’m not as special as my Mom thinks I am. And I don’t romanticize church growth one iota. Evangelism is hard. If anyone implies otherwise, they’re probably on TBN and/or selling something.

I just wonder if this is my journey. If all the hard work it takes to still be a great dad and husband along with being able to be moderately productive and prolific in spite of it all is right on the money for this season of my life. Truth is, I’m driven. I care. And I’ve taken the time to be a student in life and of life, which means I’ve been given an exhausting opportunity to use what I’ve learned - to work hard and make a difference.

So maybe the guilt should stay. It reminds me how much my life is motivated by the difference it can make. As for the frustration, it may be that my life is a bit of water slowly agitating the rock in my path while it drives me flipping crazy.   

The Gospel According to Slim Goodbody

He was the camel that broke the last straw. As a sermon illustration, I showed a YouTube video of Slim Goodbody, the cheesy, nutrition superhero from 80’s PBS shorts who sported an “anglo” (think afro, but on a white dude) and danced around in a bodysuit with innards painted on one half and bones on the other. Remember him? The video helped me relate how important inner health is to the proper functioning of a “body in motion,” the Church – with the race of Hebrews 12 in view. It was a meaningful ice-breaker. And an older couple left our church over it. Apparently, a humorous video meant to help people think about the importance of their inner life – their feelings, thoughts and motivations toward living in spiritual health outwardly -was just too much. It makes me sad, but also mad at religion and how it has helped people starving for truth to fill their bellies up on forms. It’s like opening a bag of Doritos by eating the bag first.

I honestly think they believe I violated something sacred or time-honored by using a silly video in a sermon. What happened to the Puritan preacher standing there in a collar up to his ears, peering over a lectern, sounding like Che Guevara for Jesus? What happened to the sweaty brow, the podium slamming and the urgent pacing? And why are these young preachers always talking about their own shortcomings? They’re supposed to be “reverends.” It pains me, but I know they don’t get it. I’ve asked myself several times if I made a mistake with that video. Was that a bit too much? Was I overstepping, considering some people are still wearing ties at our church while others wear flip-flops? Did I far overshoot the middle? Maybe.

But I know that Jesus ministry was pretty base by some standards. He often used everyday stories to “get around to” the Torah (insert sarcasm). He showed them stuff and then said stuff. He made no sense to the masses sometimes, provoked thinking, asked hard questions, wrote with his finger in the dirt and often kept scandalous company. He used food (and other objects) to symbolize the significance of his life and teaching. He just didn’t fit into the religious forms of the day.  Then again, he performed miracles. But apparently not the kind of “signs” that would satisfy and convince the religious types. Goes to show you can’t polish the apple’s core.

Point is, even “video illustration > sermon > nifty Powerpoint” equation is a form and not the Gospel itself. This too shall pass. But I hope the folks who are rebirthed in our community of faith will be able to tell the difference in 30 years when the next jackleg like me stands up there and tries to poke his finger into their temporal lobes.    

Consumerism (and Humor-ism)

Watch this…

http://www.comedycentral.com/motherload/?ml_video=84033

They Might Be Grease Spots

When I worked and studied at Wheaton College, I got sick to death of people talking about being “intentional.” It was “intentionality” this and “on purpose” that. But the further away my life moves from that season, the more I hear sense and beauty in the song that broken record played. I’ve got a second child about to enter this world and my son, Silas, is already beginning to mimic me when I yell at distracted drivers who perform the same idiotic maneuvers I am prone to making. On some levels, his attention to my life petrifies me, I kid you not. I don’t want to have to think about everything I say and do, but I have no choice do I? My life is writing on his in much the same way I am now pecking out letters to form words which are constituting a transfer of my ideas into your consciousness.

 I am a pastor. One of those people everyone expects to be an example of polished piety. I had lunch with a guy last week who jokingly said he needs a pastor who’s a better person than him so that God hears my prayers for him when he offers only unworthy ones, and he’s not sure if I’ll do. Then the conversation shifted to nihilism (That’s another post. I’ll get to it.). So I feel the burden of intentionality, not just because I’m a pastor, but because there are people buzzing around my life like the Japanese Beetles that are swarming my shrubberies right now. I’m not polished. Or pious. But I feel better about that when I know I’m being myself on purpose. I’m so busy and it’s a challenge to stop, zoom out, ask “why,” etc. I don’t feel better about it because I’ve exercised discipline and therefore been more responsible. I feel better because I sense the presence of God in the absence of my impulsiveness. I think I’ve discovered that intentionality is at the core of redemptive history. God wastes no word or action. The layers and layers of meaning in Scripture that all point toward Jesus coming back tattooed and on his horse are ”on purpose” to enlighten our hearts when they bog down in the mud of religious activity and hearing the same stuff all the time but rarely feeling anything consequential as a result of it.

So I guess Colossians 3:23 is asking us to consider our ways in light of the fact that in the end they are “unto God” and not men, rooting their value in eternity. They are deliberate matters of the heart, not reactions. I don’t know about you, but that gives me pause. If God had simply reacted to the events of his creation, we wouldn’t simply be fallen. We would already have met our sudden stop.    

Dirty Hookers in the House of God

An insatiable desire for the infinite comes standard with a human body. You don’t even have to look under the hood. Our cravings make us swim mouth open in a constantly renewing stream of material goods, shallow relationships and experiences. Much of it is simple substitution for the pleasure we were made to find in God. Unfortunately, most of us don’t know that’s what is driving us into the arms of every lover with a promising bankroll of satisfaction or fulfillment. Centuries of unfaithfulness by God’s people, leading all the way to my living room, can best be described as one thing, really. Prostitution. Jeremiah, the weeping prophet, says it poetically: “On every high hill and under every spreading tree you lay down as a prostitute” (2:20b). Ezekiel slaps Jerusalem harder than a ruthless pimp: “You adulterous wife! You prefer strangers to your own husband! Every prostitute receives a fee, but you give gifts to all your lovers, bribing them to come to you from everywhere for your illicit favors” (16:32-33). Yikes! The list goes on. Elijah, Isaiah, Amos…

As sensual people, we’re simply willing to give ourselves away for the hope of a payoff. Last night, my brother used a term I was surprised to have not yet heard. It was “transactional spirituality” To sum it up, if we do something of value, we get something of value in return. Our gods – money, sex, power, respect – promise a payoff if we’ll do such and such to get it. And we paint God in those colors, don’t we? If we do good things, we’ll get to heaven. If we repeat the words the preacher tells us to right after he scares the begeezus out of us, we won’t have to go to hell and roast forever. If I sow the thousand dollar seed that the dude on TV with obvious dental veneers is calling for, I’ll “break the back of poverty” and possibly have my own Learjet one day. Excellent. Can’t wait. Maybe I can hire John Travolta to fly me around. Oh yeah, I didn’t have $1000 to give. I suppose maybe $100 will give poverty a nasty case of scoliosis.

David’s great great grand-mom, Rahab, was a prostitute, and one of two women mentioned in Hebrews 11, the “Faith Hall of Fame.” She was also an ancestor of Jesus of Nazareth. Interestingly enough, she was the first woman known to have put on a red light (think “red light district” and “Roxanne” by the Police) when she put her scarlet cord out the window as a sign of her faith and her pact with Jacob’s spies at Jericho. Apparently the glaring red symbol of a prostitute has ancient roots. The Gospels record in detail Jesus interacting with two, possibly three, sexually deviant women: A woman caught in adultery, the Samaritan woman at the well, and Mary Magdalene (Church tradition holds that Mary was possibly the woman caught in adultery or a demon-possessed prostitute). On one level, you could say that these were yet more examples of the grace of God in Jesus extended to the margins of society. On a deeper level, this is very symbolic. Jesus, God’s true and faithful Vine who would become Israel for Israel, meets compassionately with an adulterous woman who deserves death for her legal trespass, rejection for her cultural defiance and shame for her personal defilement. Yet he pardons her, sending her to be something else entirely. A flagrant example of grace. An undeniable testament of God’s mercy. A new covenant retelling of how God feels about his unfaithful wife. Rewind… read Hosea and try not to be awed by God’s desperate love for his dirty hooker wife!

And then there’s “Roxanne.” Listen to the words and maybe you can hear God, in Sting’s piercing register, calling out to you when you drift into the comforting arms of a high-paying job that requires low-lying ethics. “You don’t have to wear that dress.” When you’ve learned to savor the bitter lips of unforgiveness and the warmth of the resentment you swear you deserve to feel and can’t sleep without. “Those days are over.” When a steady visual diet of entertainment (now in high definition) offers you fading glee and you might otherwise devote your attention to getting some wisdom and revelation from the Scriptures. “You don’t have to sell your body to the night.” Need I even mention lust? (My favorite line: ”I loved you since I knew you. I wouldn’t talk down to you.”) It’s not a gospel song. Or is it?

Roxanne
You don’t have to put on the red light
Those days are over
You don’t have to sell your body to the night

Roxanne
You don’t have to wear that dress tonight
Walk the streets for money
You don’t care if its wrong or if its right

Roxanne
You don’t have to put on the red light I loved you since I knew you
I wouldn’t talk down to you
I have to tell you just how I feel
I wont share you with another boy

I know my mind is made up
So put away your make up
Told you once I wont tell you again
Its a bad way

Roxanne
You don’t have to put on the red light
Roxanne
You don’t have to put on the red light

The Solomon Paradox

I’ve always thought it interesting that Solomon wrote Proverbs, the everyday handbook for discipline, prudence, discretion and discernment. His life story is evidence that his wisdom seemed to reside mostly in the realm of ideals, not in the core of his character. Here’s a guy who absolutely disrespected his father, David’s, life, kingdom and devotion to the one true God. I can’t help but think of Paris Hilton and a hypothetical scenario where, upon the death of her father, she is suddenly charged with running his mammoth hotel chain and humbly runs to God for help. God gives her heaps of business acumen, she writes inspiring books, but spends most of her time slurping rum-laden Jell-O shooters, shopping for handbags and sunglasses with other trust fund babies, and collecting chiseled boy toys from every household in Beverly Hills. Contrary to the wisdom of Proverbs, Solomon not only hung out with bad company, but he lived with bad company. He had sex with bad company. Lots of it. He built the temple his father only dreamt of, but it ended up in the shadow of altars to pagan idols, Chemosh and Molech, erected on the hill east of Jerusalem. And that was only two of the many high places he built and only two of the many idols of his many pagan wives. He didn’t stop there. His idolatry divided a united kingdom of Israel and left her spiritually in ruin. I’m currently teaching a series called “Imperfect People of a Perfect God” and last night Solomon was on the “hot seat.” We were looking into his life to find ours. I pointed out that he steadily processed through the 3 steps toward idolatry. Toleration > Comfort> Participation. Instead of eating an elephant one bite at a time, I suppose the elephant (the rare carnivorous kind) ate him bite by bite.  And of course, it happens so easily to us as we pander ourselves to modern-day pleasures.

The most interesting part of the story is also the most necessary. God is so gracious toward Solomon from beginning to end. Even at first, when he was running to God for help, Solomon offered sacrifices on a pagan altar in direct disobedience to divine decrees found in Deuteronomy 12. God still answered and blessed. Even when Solomon began participating in ritual pagan worship along with his wives and God’s anger burned white-hot, the Lord chose to “tear the kingdom away” from his son and not Solomon himself. What’s more, God ensured Solomon that one tribe (Judah) would remain for
Jerusalem, the lineage through which Jesus would arrive to address the idolatry in us all. And it was an enormous affront to God that he had personally appeared to the wise king twice, yet Solomon still went passionately into the laps of dead gods. I suppose it’s a sad story, though in the end the flickering pilot light of redemption withstood another stiff gust of spiritual infidelity exhaled by a chosen people. And now, for us in Christ, the flame of God’s righteous love is incinerating the bones of sin and scorching the lungs of death as it scrambles to stay out from under Jesus’ feet. 

I’ve come to discover how different God is from us in the way he relates truth and wisdom. His words and commands don’t originate in his thoughts and sensible ideals. They originate in his character. In who he is. That’s a fundamental difference between us and him and a great reason to be in relationship to him. His talk is his life, but he can’t be reduced to the sum of his words, as is often done to make him a tablet-wielding dictator of the cosmos issuing job descriptions instead of love letters. Most of us, as N.T. Wright says, want a General at the foot of our beds in the morning telling us, “Do this and do that” instead of the God revealed in Jesus of Nazareth who is there actually saying, “Once upon a time…” Our eternal lives don’t begin by morally ascending to principles and dictates. They begin by ascending to relationship. It’s probably more like descending, coming down off our ladders stretched between reality and manufactured moral high ground to see and hear something far more worthy of our lives. The vision and voice of David’s God. Maybe what Solomon needed was a lonely pasture, a deadly enemy, a forsaken cave, or a constant stream of wars to discover that he need more than God’s blessing and wisdom. He needed God himself. Maybe we need those, too.

Reality’s Translucence to God

“Again and again, faith has risked being suffocated in the embrace of power. The struggle…to avoid identifying Jesus’ Kingdom with any political structure is one that has to be fought century after century. For the fusion of faith and political power always comes at a price: faith becomes the servant of power and must bend to its criteria.”

No, it’s not an N.T. Wright diatribe on empire. This is a quote from Pope Benedict XVI’s just-published book, “Jesus of Nazareth.” Newsweek (May 21) just did a spread on the pontiff, Joseph Ratzinger, and his broad treatise. And I have to tell you I was very inspired by their conveyance of some of his insights. It’s easy for us Protestants to write off the Catholic sphere of devotional and inspirational life, but check this out: In addressing the historicity of the miracle of the wedding feast of Cana, Benedict XVI proposes that we look deeper at the meaning of the story to discover its authenticity, as our Enlightenment minds and methods are apt to avoid doing. He says that, as a sign of God’s “overflowing generosity,” the “superabundance of Cana” is the first signal that “God’s feast with humanity, his self-giving for men, has begun.” He suggests that the Gospels, read critically and with love (a Pope-proposed duality of attitude), show us “reality’s translucence to God.” I love that thought. God sees clearly through our alleged constructs of reality and in Jesus “explodes all the categories” we use to dissect truth and assign our convenient meanings to life and circumstance. Apparently this Pope has a lot to say, urging us to “trust the Gospels.” And he’s got my attention.

If Peter Parker can forgive…

…well then so can we. Aside from the fact that Warner hired someone from Kraft to consult on just the right amount of cheese to inject in the weenie that is “Spider-Man 3,” they actually take a stab at providing their viewers with a moral. And that moral is forgiveness. Except not really forgiveness, but something they call forgiveness. I know some people will find great reasons to like this movie (special effects, deliberate quirkiness, yada…), but they will all pale in comparison to the “Shut Up!” that any thinking person should be feeling after throwing your $9 into this orifice. 

 Here goes: Peter Parker finds out that the Sandman didn’t mean to kill his grandfather. It was a terrible accident. And then Harry the Hobgoblin’s son finds out that Peter didn’t actually kill his father. It was a terrible misunderstanding. Peter treats Mary-Jane like trash, but then finds out that it was the fault of a terrible alien thing that flew in on a meteor and possessed his Spidey-suit. Then they all get together, make silly cry faces and declare their “forgiveness” for one another. And Peter spells it all out for us by telling us how important forgiveness really is. But wait a minute. Don’t you have to have actually done something to be forgiven for it? You see the problem. Need I write more?

 I recently read N.T. Wright’s “Evil and the Justice of God,” which is another excellent book that doesn’t provide any answers to the question of why pain exists if God loves humanity so much. And that’s why it’s good. Essentially, it provides an understanding of evil in terms of what God has done, is doing, and will do about it. It doesn’t presume to make sense of suffering, but to show how suffering is not the “final word.” Read it. He writes some things that are really potent, not least of which is that forgiveness doesn’t try to minimize the weight of an offense or the degree of pain that is inflicted. It doesn’t say, “Well you didn’t mean to” or “It’s not as bad as maybe I think” or some other disingenuous hogwash. It actually takes every bit into account and has to let it be as offensive or vile or demeaning as it really is. Then forgiveness says, “Although this is how bad I’ve been treated, this is my response. I forgive it all. Not part of it or some of it by degree. All of it.” Point is, forgiveness doesn’t find a way to say the bad stuff is less bad. It says it’s as bad as it really is. And then addresses it tit for tat. For it to really be forgiveness, it has to really be something to forgive.

We’re truly forgiven by God. Not because he overlooks our selfishness and idolatry. He stares it right in the face, feels the betrayal all the way to his holy kidneys, and points to the finished bloody work of Jesus on the cross. It’s bad stuff. Really bad. And so it’s forgiven at that depth and to that power.     

Heart Transplants for Mannequins

The reason humans exist is to show what God is like. Sounds crazy, but it’s just plain true. According to Moses, God made Adam in his image and likeness. That might mean a lot of things, but at the very least it means that when you encountered Adam, you encountered something of God. And of course, Adam (and Eve) ate the forbidden fruit. It must have tasted like dust, because that’s what humanity has been biting ever since. You might say that whatever God intended went terribly wrong. But that wouldn’t be entirely true. God was deeply pained and responded to their betrayal by allowing Adam and Eve the break they desired from the life they knew. They had knowledge unparalleled just by virtue of their relationship to Him. They had access. But they wanted knowledge for themselves, in themselves, from themselves.

Nevertheless, God continued to show what he is like through humans. Like a sick Buddy Rich fill, God melted into 5/8 from 4/4 without missing a beat. It’s called grace. Grace is the opposite of rejection. Grace is who God is. And humanity is where he shows it. Grace from God is like a surgeon who puts human hearts in mannequins, the creepy department store ones from the 60’s that always look like they’re doing “the Robot” in a crooked wig. And they transform into real people when he has sewn them back up. God is a fantastic surgeon and the only way we know that is because we are the mannequins.

The reason God the Son became human after centuries of trying to make it clear to the Israelites, his chosen people, is to show humanity what humanity is like. Real humanity. Real reflection of God. Jesus was God’s new-fangled multimedia presentation and it went over with the Jews not unlike some of what I try to do goes over on a slow Sunday morning. Many of them just didn’t get it. But there could be no clearer picture or more effective teaching tool. Hebrews 1 says, “The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being. Jesus is the “last Adam” according to Paul in 1 Cor 15. The Son didn’t wear a dusty wig and he didn’t model polyester suits on broad plastic shoulders. He was real. He was pre-Tree. He bit the dust hard enough to kill it, not him (for very long, that is). And because he was real, a real heart became available to us. Real humanity with real skin is all over us. God is evident through us. I love the fact that God never stops showing who he is through what he has made, even when what he  made became terribly disfigured, painfully fake and poorly dressed.