“The Shack”: P’s and Q’s–uh, I mean Q’s and A’s

My mother often said, especially when I was waxing smart-mouthed, “Mind your p’s and q’s!”

I think the expression originates with young apprentices in the old-technology printing trade.  They needed to pay attention when they were setting p’s and q’s, which are so easy to confuse, especially when one is viewing them in the reverse, as type appears.

So I am about to be careful how I answer the following questions about William P. Young’s The Shack. “Oh, Lord, keep me from being an impertinent smart-mouth!”

Q: Read it?

A: Yup.

Q: Recommend it?

A: Can we save that question for later?

Q: Sure.  Do you think it’s a well-written book?

A: I do not consider myself an expert literary critic or to be particularly well-read in fiction.  (Seeing I have taught high school English for thirty years, I should have read half the library by now!)   My fiction-reading roll-call is limited to mostly hall-of-fame wordsmiths like Shakespeare, Dickens, Milton, Melville, Twaine, Steinbeck, Conrad and the rest of the college of masters.  Honestly, stylistically, The Shack cannot rightfully be mentioned in the same breath as these classics.

Q: Have you read any novels that were written in the last fifty years that you think are particularly well-written?

A: Of course, lots of authors are simply geniuses of style.  Can I add, however, that because a book is well-written stylistically, I do not read it if it will expose my spirit to offensive content.  I just don’t get enough out of such a book to endure the discomfort.  For instance, I think Toni Morrison has amazing command of English, but I do not read much of her stuff because the graphic descriptions of sin bother me.  I guess I am revealing why I haven’t read half the library, yet. 

Q: Any chance you will you be reading The Shack in your English classes?

A: Nope.

Q: Is it simply not worthy language, worthy style, for a high school English curriculum?  It is, after all, a runaway best seller from a decidedly Christian perspective.  Wouldn’t it be nice for your classes to read something fresh and Christian?

A: Its lackluster style is part of my “nope.”    There is no reason to lower academic reading assignments to mediocre style.  I think the first two thirds of The Kite Runner by Hosseini would be a worthy model for Young as far as writing power goes.  Anyone who is a serious writer ought to be able to achieve Hosseini’s level of artistic expression.  The Kite Runner (again, the first two thirds) is solid fiction style, nothing extraordinary.  To me, Hosseini’s command of English would be minimum for inclusion in the English department’s stock.  Young is simply a third-tier artist.

Q: Why are so many people loving the book even though the style is mediocre?

A: There is a gap in the popular literature when it comes to the theology of suffering.  At one end of a spectrum there is Wiesel’s Night or Kushner’s When Bad Things Happen to Good People, in which the writers depict God as powerless at best, dead at worst. At the other end of the spectrum are the rosey books, like Osteen’s Your Best Life is Now or Wilkinson’s The Prayer of Jabez: Breaking Through to the Blessed Life, which ignore the hard questions. (BTW, how can a Christian ever make a claim that his best life is now?)  That books at both ends of the spectrum are best-sellers shows that readers want to know how to relate to God in a troubled world.  The gap-filler is a book that respects the intelligence of people who are hurting in this war-zone of a world, but still affirms the control of our loving and all-powerful Lord.  The Shack has scratched this itch.  In fact, it is attempting to stop the hemorrhage and bandage the wound.  People hunger for a book like The Shack because they have not been satisfied with what their churches have served up on the topic of suffering.  I applaud Young for recognizing a need.

Q: Do you think you will read it with your Bible class or with a church reading group?

A: Nope.  But I am not going to give an easy and dismissive explanation why.  That’s why I am granting this interview.

Q: Okay.  What do you like about it?

A: I agree with the book’s position on crime, that God doesn’t want it, let alone ordain it.  Crime is something he endures because he has to for the sake of his project with us and the over-all good.  Life’s injustices are something the Lord will make right in eternity.  Please don’t misunderstand.  I am not saying I agree with all of The Shack’s message.  It turns out I don’t.  But I agree with its position on the relationship between God and our crime-filled world.  I also agree with the basic premise of the book that God is working toward having a relationship with us.   And I like the priority the book gives to God’s love over God’s power.

Q: Is the relational theology the same theology you are teaching in Not Even God?

A: Basically.  I not only deal with crime in Not Even God.  I also explain the other two great sources of suffering–natural disaster and sickness.  In contrast to The Shack, I do not enter into the ultimate realm of eternity in my discussion.  I only try to explain the inter-relations of the dynamic triangle in this life–the loving and powerful Lord, sinful man, and our chaotic world.  I exalt the Lord as perfectly dedicated to his project of love.

Q: Do you like how much Young has made the book’s outcome depend on Mack the protagonist?

A: Yes.  In my thinking, God is always doing his part.  Often, it is we who make the will of God happen or not.  God, in his love and wisdom, wants us to be genuine partners in determining what goes on in the world.  I go into this idea in great detail in Not Even God, which has the subtitle, The Curious Partnership of God and Man.

Q: I am searching for what you don’t like.  Are you, by any chance, one of those old traditionalists who have a problem with God being called “Poppa” in The Shack?

A: Hey!  I am not that old!

Q: Sorry, there Pops!    So how about calling God “Poppa”?

A: That is not my specific problem, not at all.  The Bible encourages us who have received God’s Spirit of adoption to call him (in the Aramaic language) “Abba.”  In English, the equivalent of “Abba” would be “Daddy” or “Poppa.”

Q: Do you have a problem that God the Father is depicted as a loving black “aunty,” sort of an Aunt Jemima?

A: You are getting warmer–nothing against Aunt Jemima.         I understand what Young is trying to do.  He is telling us that God will meet us where we are.  God will start by talking to us in a voice we can hear, and then he will move toward talking to us in a way that we should receive from him.  God wanted to be Mack the protagonist’s “Poppa” all along, but he temprarily morphed himself into an aunty image that Mack could accept more easily.  God is depicted as a father figure by book’s end.

Q: So what’s your problem with the Aunt Jemima depiction?

A: Young is having his God come so far toward Mack, he is not the God of the Bible any more.  In two thousand years of Bible study, Bible commentary, and Christian literature, the mainline church has not felt the need to depict God as a female.  The Bible’s reference to our God as our Father is sacred, not only because Jesus introduces the concept in “The Lord’s Prayer.”  All through the Bible, God is spoken of with great reverence as our Father.   I suspect something is not quite right when Young starts morphing God in a new way that the Bible has not done.  Even so, The Shack’s depiction of God the Father as a woman is only pointing to a much more significant problem I have with The Shack.

Q: Is there even one verse in the Bible where the Lord is portrayed as a woman?

A: I think there is one in Isaiah.  The Lord is thoroughly frustrated with his people’s fascination for female deities, so he compares himself to a woman who has given birth.  The passage is the exception that proves the rule.  We are not supposed to think of the Lord as a female.

Q: So what is the crux of your disagreement with The Shack?  It sounds like you view Aunt Jemima as a symptom, not the sickness.

A: Let me treat The Shack as Young’s attempt to teach.  In teaching there is the “Curriculum” (Let me give it a capital C.) as distinct from the “hidden curriculum.”  In English class, the big-C Curriculum includes lessons on the interpretation of texts, figurative language, grammar, vocabulary development, etc.  In contrast, the hidden curriculum includes more or less unspoken lessons on love, respect, and responsibility.  Teachers teach helpful hidden-curriculum lessons in numberless unspoken ways.  We need to allow our students to finish their thoughts during a class discussion even when they are struggling.  We also need to prepare our lessons diligently, grade papers with the right combination of sympathy and high expectation, and insist our students stay on task during the entire class period.  We also need to make time to engage our students about their lives outside of the classroom.  When we do these things, we model love, respect, and responsibility.  Classroom teachers teach the hidden curriculum by possessing a professional, knowledgable, loving ethos.  All teachers are modeling good and bad lessons via their ethos whether they try to or not.  The hidden curriculum stems from the personal connection teachers make or do not make with their students.  The spirit in the classroom teaches the hidden curriculum.  Students usually learn the hidden curriculum much more deeply than they learn the explicitly stated Curriculum.  My problem with The Shack is that the hidden curriculum is all wrong.

Q: Oh, boy, I don’t really follow you.  Can you be specific?

A: Sorry.  I sometimes get lost in an analogy.  Young wants to express that God is looking for a relationship with us and how God takes initiative in seeking this relationship.  This is Young’s Curriculum with a capital C.  I agree with it.  I teach the same thing all the time.  My book Not Even God teaches this very lesson.  My problem is with Young’s hidden curriculum, as expressed in his story choices.  One choice is depicting God as a woman.  His God is going farther than the biblical God goes.  In fact Young’s God is on an extraordinary campaign for Mack’s healing.  He sends Mack a note in the mail and meets him in the shack for a couple days where Mack’s daughter was murdered.  God cooks him breakfast.   God takes him through a series of visions and discussions to heal Mack’s inner wound, overcome his psychological inhibitions, and build his faith.  I would call The Shack misleading about God.  Young’s God is coddling.  He’s a therapist!  OK, God does speak and heal and save–absolutely–but he doesn’t send mail, make appointments for a therapy session, operate a bed and breakfast, or give tours that put the departed on display through one-way glass.  Young has created a fantasy, not a depiction of the exalted Lord of the Bible.  Young’s God is too human-centered.  I don’t suppose Young think of it this way, but he is trashing the way God really works, through people sharing the Word of God with others.

Q: Didn’t God become a man and walk among us to seek out a relationship with us?

A: Yes, and he even cooked some fish for the apostles!   But Jesus went back to heaven.  Now we have to believe in the invisible God by hearing the Spirit of God that comes through God’s Word, the Bible.  I am reminded of Jesus’ story about Abraham’s conversation with a rich man in hell (see other comments on this blog).  The rich man told Abraham to send a dead man back to his living brothers with a warning about the judgment to come.  Abraham refused such an extrordinary idea.  Abraham informed the rich man that his brothers were going to have to “hear” the Bible.  Jesus’ story establishes the pre-eminence of God’s written word. 

Let me put it another way.  God has already come to us in the person of Jesus.  Now we have to come to him on his terms.   Young’s God does not have nearly the strong terms that the God in the Bible has.  They are different Gods.  Again, Young is misleading us.  I think, in his effort to be fresh, he has stretched his God out of true shape.  I can’t tolerate that.

Q: Aren’t you lacking poetic sensibility?  Don’t all writers create “worlds” when they write?  Aren’t all fictions fantasies?

A: Yes, a writer is the creator of a world.  He certainly has the freedom to put God in “the world of his book” or even leave him out.  If he chooses to put a God in the world of his book, he can make the God any way he wants him to be.  My point is exactly that the God of The Shack is not the God of the Bible.  Young’s God is too plastic and too humanistic to qualify as a representation–figurative or literal–of the Lord of the Bible.   It is not true to the Spirit of the biblical God.  I am not saying Young was not free to create such a God.  I am only saying that I am going to exercise my freedom not to promote such a book.  Am I being smart-mouthed?

Q: Only a little.  Do you mean that Young’s God displays expectations for man that are too low?

A: Partly.  I do indeed smell an inclusivist social agenda that is not biblical.  Young is on a campaign against a God who has any expectations for man.  Somehow, according to Young, love is supposed to be the abandonment of all expectations.  Ironically, while so much of his relational theology is the same as mine (the same as that in Not Even God), Young’s campaign against a God with expectations is exactly opposed to mine.

Q: You say partly.  What can you add?

A: I guess, to give Young as much credit as we can, we can say he is creating an anthropomorphic fantasy to represent, poetically, the inner struggle a person goes through when the Lord is trying to draw him out and heal him.  I just think the vehicle of expression has become irreverent in The Shack.  Young has stretched his image of God so far as to put the effort outside the bounds of the Great Commission, which is to teach all people to obey the commands of Christ.  Young’s God doesn’t command.  So there is no need for Mack to obey.  Obedience has been pushed off the table by therapy!

Q: Wow.  Thanks.  That’s kind of interesting.

A: My pleasure.

Q: If someone in cyberland might have another question, is it ok for them to ask?

A: Of course.

On Prayer, IV

Another meditation on

“This kind can come out only by prayer.”

Don’t you believe that God is always and only doing what is best?  I do.

So why did God allow the boy (Mark 9) to be demon possessed? 

More to the point on prayer:  Why did God heal the boy only when someone who was empowered by ample prayer accosted the evil spirit ?

Apparently the best thing God can do includes allowing both despicable demons and us pitiful humans to have genuine say-so in the way life unfolds. 

We can have more godly say-so if we pray. 

IOW, God can do more for us if we pray.

IOW, God can do more for us if we pray than he can do for us if we don’t pray.

Find out more about it by reading 

On Prayer, III

Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

A model prayer, right?

But we’re supposed to avoid empty, meaningless repetition in prayer.  How can this prayer have meaning? 

Figure out what God wants, and pray for it. 

Identify what is not God’s will and come against it in prayer.

I will admit to you when my mettle has been sorely tested in serving Christ as a pastor: when I have known something is not God’s will and felt compelled to speak up about it. 

That’s not God’s will!

Why does it sometimes test my courage to say such a thing to Christians?  Because they are so happy in simply believing something is God’s will (even if it is not).  They’ll get angry, defensive, discouraged when they hear me.  I’ll feel like a spoiler.

But sometimes it’s just so.  It’s not God’s will.

I’ll pray for them.

On Prayer, II

Another thought about Jesus’ words,

“This kind can come out only by prayer.”

It appears that, in prayer, we can fight the evil, pain, and suffering in this world. 

I am ashamed to admit that we may be more likely to engage in theological wranglings which seek to explain the existence of evil, pain, and suffering rather than fight them. 

By the time we are done with our discussion, the evil, pain, and suffering are probably more firmly entrenched than ever.

I would like to think Not Even God is different because every chapter is about God at work in my friends’ lives.  Check it out:

 

On Prayer

My daughter Bethany has posted a discussion starter for us on chapter nine, “The Refugee,” of Not Even God.  (See here.)

I am remended of a passage in the Bible when the disciples fail to cast a demon out of someone, and they ask the Lord why they failed.  The Lord tells them about the need for faith, but he also tells them that

“This kind can come out only by prayer” (Mark 9:29)

I find this intriguing.  It gives me the idea that prayer is like a workout for our faith.  We’ll get stronger if we work out.  We’ll be able to accomplish more with more prayer.

Forget going to the gym.  Go to the prayer closet to get strong.

Please join us for a discussion about prayer here.

Tomatoes on the Vine in India

As my friends at Living Word Church know, Doc Bailey and I just returned from a mission trip in India.  Something happened while we were there that reminds me of chapter four in Not Even God and “the night of the thirteen.”

Doc, Pastor Bryan, and Pastor Charles in their motorized rickshaw.

Doc Bailey, Pastor Charles, and I were with three other pastors, packed into a motorized rickshaw, winding our way through the dense and dangerous traffic of an Indian city Kakinada.  In the middle of an intersection–you can believe it or not–I felt the presence of God in a very special and personal way.  The sense came without any provocation–no prayer, no scripture reading, no worship music.  The horns were beeping, the motors were roaring, the bumps were jostling my head against the roof supports of the rickshaw (These things are not built for long-waisted westerners like me!) 

An Indian policeman next to a motorized rickshaw.

Nevertheless, the Lord’s presence was unmistakable to me, and I actually began to shout, “God is with us!  I feel his presence!  God is here!”  No one surprised me when he looked at me strangely.  I knew what they might be thinking:  “Oh, no, what kind of nutcase did Pastor Charles import from the States!”  Their looks did not deter me.  I continued to repeat, “God is here!  He is with us!”  Even Doc Bailey looked at me a little surprised.

Actually, as I was feeling God’s presence, I was remembering a time many years ago when I had the same feeling.  My wife and I had only been married about a year at the time, and we had little to our name, little with which to buy the necessities for our first baby who was sleeping in the next room.  To help us provide for our new little family, we had planted a garden.  Being very busy myself, I hadn’t had much chance to look at the garden since we planted it a month before.

On this particular Saturday morning, lying in bed half-awake, I suddenly became aware of the presence of God.  I sensed he was telling me something, that there were tomatoes on the vine out in our garden.  I was so excited by the presence of God I sat up straight and shook Cathy.  “God is telling me there are tomatoes on the vine.  We have tomatoes!”  The half-worried, half-amused look on her face would be repeated on the faces of those in the motorized rickshaw close to thirty years later.

I rushed out to the garden that morning.  Sure enough, there were green tomatoes on the vine, each one about the size of a ping pong ball.  I was not surprised.  God had told me they were there.  I ran back into the house and up the stairs to the bedroom where my wife was trying to doze.  At the time, I think she was more interested in a few minutes more sleep than my testimony, but I was never to forget God’s little demonstration.

I can’t tell you how many times over the last thirty years I have remembered that morning.  Why?  Because it meant to me that God was watching over my little family.  Jesus said it this way, “God knows the number of the hairs on your head.”  I might have said it this way:  “God knows when there are baby tomatoes in your garden.”  Many times when my family was in need over many years, I took comfort in the events of that morning.

Back to India and negotiating a busy intersection in a rickshaw.  It may have been crazy or weird to start shouting that God was with us, but even I knew that I couldn’t very well start yelling, “There are tomatoes in the garden, tomatoes in the garden!”  There was little context for saying that I felt the presence of God.  Talking about tomatoes would have been so disconnected to the moment it would have seemed, well, ca-ra-zy.  I knew that.   But it wouldn’t seem carazy in another hour.

We were on our way to lunch at the home of a wonderful Christian couple.  Tomatoes were not part of the tasty seafood lunch they cooked us.  The tomatoes came next.  Only they weren’t literally tomatoes; they were souls.

A young lady, about eighteen or nineteen was also at the home.  She was a friend of the couple’s daughter.  After lunch we began sharing with her the story of Christ and the nearness of the kingdom of God.  After about ten minutes, she decided to pray with us and commit her life to Christ.   We questioned her closely about her intentions and the meaning of this step.  Still she wanted to pray.  So we dropped on our knees right in the middle of the apartment and began to pray with her.  There were quite a few of us, including several pastors who proabably like to pray loudly as much as most. 

Whether it was because of some pretty bold praying or not, before we were able to get off our knees a neighbor woman came to the open door of the apartment.  She explained she was a doctoral candidate who wondered if we would pray about the thesis paper she had just handed in for review.  I asked her if she was a Christian requesting prayer.  she replied that, no, she was a Hindu, and asked again if we would pray.  I told her we would, but I said there was another matter even more important, her soul.  I shared briefly about God’s desire to forgive her for her sins and wash her clean by the blood that Jesus shed on the cross, and asked her if she wanted to pray about that as well.  She said, “Yes!” 

It was too fast for me, too simple.  I questioned her more closely and clarified that I was talking about making a life commitment to Christ and asking Jesus to be her Lord and Savior and the Guide of her life.  “Do you want to obey the commands of the Lord for the rest of your life?  Do you recognize Jesus as the one true God.”

Once again she replied, “Yes!”

I could only understand that this very bright, educated woamn had actually come to the apartment because she wanted to commit her life to Christ.  I asked her to get on her knees to pray and she literally collapsed to her knees, buried her face in her hands and began to pray spontaneously.  Her English was so good, I was able to lead her in prayer.  When we got up from prayer, her face was literally glowing.  Hallelujah!

Then I knew why God had allowed me to feel his presence in such a powerful way on our way to this apartment and why I so vividly remembered the morning of the tomatoes.  God was telling us that there are also tomatoes on the vine in India.  In other words, there are literally many ready souls who are hungry for Christ and entrance into the kingdom of God.  They are of many ages and backgrounds.  Some are educated and some are not.  Some are in high places and some are destitute.  God sees and knows everyone of them.  They are to be his tomatoes in his garden.

Christ and Belial* Consider Dying

The shadow of death casts its shape over most of the book Not Even God–real dying, not just an abstraction that we bravely pretend to dissect with the cool detachment of a philosopher. Take inventory by chapters:

1. car wreck, genocide, the Bomb
2. crucifixion
3. shot gun blast
4. heart disease (that’s the author’s young mother)
5. chronic illness (that’s Brother Ernie)
6. the preemie fighting for a breath

Want me to go on?

Chapter Fifteen is the finale. Ten die in a gorge after the bridge washes out. Eighteen die in Jerusalem when a tower falls. Galilean worshippers die. One war buddy dies; one does not. We are all “at the brink.”

What are we talking about here? Why we die. What happens when we die.

How to die.

The fight to live.

The meaning of life.

Host a town hall meeting where the topic is death, and the believer and a non-believer are not going to get along. Christ and Belial* couldn’t be farther apart.

To the pagan**, death is the end. To the believer, it is the start. When the race official pulls his trigger and we hear the crack and see the puff of smoke burst above the starting line, the pagan and the believer push off in opposite directions.

The pagan makes his life all about his life, all about his family, all about his community–anything and everything on this side of death. His best hope, a mere flicker, is that when he dies he might have left a trail, maybe even a little treasure, behind. Mostly, though, life to him is the hording of power. He believes in survival at all costs. That’s why, for instance, the pagan keeps building a bigger and bigger bomb. He’s too dedicated to this world.

The believer says, “enough.” The pagan never does. Did you ever see one of these martial arts cat-fights that take place in an eight-sided cage? The main function of the referee is to stop the fight before unconsciousness becomes coma. The whole event is a very pagan, power-centered event because only losers tap their opponents to signal, “enough.” Or Super Bowl Sunday. Does a life-threatening injury after a crushing tackle spoil or enhance the pagan’s viewing pleasure? Survival at all costs! Winning is not the important thing; it is the only thing.

The believer has the courage to say “enough.” It’s because his greatest values lie beyond. God, eternity, all things made just–these are the ultimate realities.

Of course, Muslim fanatics are said to “look beyond,” too, and I don’t want to be confused with a Muslim fanatic. The truth is that he is not a religious man. Psychologists and sociologists have proven it. Suicide bombers do not have a history of being “good Muslims.” According to the profile, they are socially frustrated and religiously marginal. Their act is really one of frustration with the way things are. They are trying to mock their oppressors (real or imagined) with the ultimate protest. The funeral will be a political rally. It actually has very little to do with the life after death. The Muslim fanatic’s ultimate reality is on his dirty, desperate street.

The real believer is never desperate.

The real believer can make the sacrifice that really counts. In fact, this is the sacrifice only a believer can make: his pride.

Please comment.

*(define “Belial“)

**(define “pagan“)

God and an Angel of the Lowest Rank

Colossians 2:9

For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form.

 

The following story didn’t really happen, but it might have.  It takes place long, long ago, and might have even been on a December 24^th or 25^th, but, of course, there were no Decembers back then.  There were no calendars, and there were no holidays like Christmas or New Years, yet.  In fact, this story takes place so long ago, the earth did not yet exist quite as we know it.  There was such a thing as time, however, for if you remember from the Bible, there were days even before the sun and moon appeared. 

So long, long ago, as I said, Katan, a little angel of the lowest rank, was dismissed early from his lessons.  The other angels would take early dismissal as an excuse to fly to the farthest reaches of the universe, and even though they never won, they loved to race with the light that blasts from a supernova.  Not Katan.  Instead Katan loved to find a quiet place, so he could lay back in the luxury of his own downy wings and daydream.  His favorite place was a certain heavenly garden just outside of the heavenly city. 

In heaven the trees simply twist and tremble with energy as they grow an inch every moment to reach the light of God.  Vines are not like vines in our world, that tangle around healthy trees to pull themselves up, all the while strangling the trees.  Heaven’s vines spread in search of flowers that need help supporting blossoms that are so rich and full and moist, that it seems like the flower stems would have to sag or break without the vine’s help.  In Katan’s garden clear streams giggle as they frolic down stony hills, and on the banks, ferns wave a greeting to every passing neighbor.  A warm, moist breeze nurtures the many yellow, red, purple, and orange fruits, none of which look exactly like ours.  A banana-shaped fruit was purple.  Another fruit had a skin like an orange, but it was as big as a beach ball.  What looked to be grapes were in a bunch as big as a turkey and varied in color, some golden, some blood red, and bright blue. 

Katan had this habit of fluttering his wings in a way that showed his thoughts.  When he was excited, his wings would tremble.  When he was peaceful they would softly spread and flap like a butterfly’s when it is at rest.  When he was angry they would stretch straight back.

As Katan whistled and turned back towards one of the pearly gates of the city, he wondered just how old the luminescent city might be, and his wings flapped, first one and then the other.  As old as God?  No.  God made this city.  And God always was.  God the Father, God the Word, and God the Breath of life.

Katan was surprised to see the Father himself in the garden.  Katan watched, wings like rigid kites on a day with no wind.  The Father was pacing.  His face looked pained.  He was muttering to himself.  The plants would bow themselves as he passed, but the Father didn’t seem to notice.  His back was to Katan when he spoke.

“Taking a break from your lessons, little Katan?

“Yes, Father.  Are you all right?”

“Yes, little Katan.”  The Lord took a big breath.  You could almost call it a sigh.   “I am God.”

“What are you doing?”

“Thinking.”

Katan was startled, and his wings hooked in at the bottom.  “Thinking?  You are really thinking?”

The Father turned and faced him.  “What’s that supposed to mean–’really thinking?’”

Katan was only slightly embarrassed.  “Forgive me, Lord.  I didn’t know you think.”

“I won’t take that as an insult,” said the Lord with a chuckle.  He seemed to be collecting himself.

“Sorry.  I thought you were just sort of ‘present’ throughout all time, knowing everything at once.  I thought that your mind is an eternal, placid, unchanging sort of ocean of–I don’t know–an ocean of–God.”

“Sounds kind of hokey to me, Katan.  Did they teach you that in your lessons?  Maybe we should give less time for recess.”

“Come to think of it, I don’t know where the idea came from.”

The Father could correct so straightforwardly yet without demeaning someone.  “Well, it’s hokey.  I am thinking.”

Katan was still concerned because, even though the Father now seemed fine, Katan was sure the Father had been very troubled.  “What about, Father?”

“A plan.”

Katan sat on a large stone.  His wings began to create a wind with their flapping.  “Can you share it with me, Father?  It seems like a very difficult plan.”

“I am going to make another world.  It want it to express love and bounty and goodness.  I will call it earth, and suspend it the heavens.”

Katan was trying to be encouraging.  “That sounds wonderful.  Will it be hard for you?”

The Lord sat beside Katan.  “I do have it all worked out–plan A, contingencies, flow charts, what-if’s, if-then’s, the whole thing.”

“Whoa.  I only got a “C” in programming.  Your plan does sound complicated.  No wonder you were frowning.”

“You saw me frowning huh?  Well this plan is not just complicated.  On the sixth day of creation I am going to do something that is very dangerous.  I will create a partner who is a lot like me.  He is a man, and I will call him ‘ADAM.’”

Still feeling the need to encourage the Father, Katan aimed his eyes precisely at the Father’s and spoke as the one who has insight: “Ah, no wonder it’s complicated, my Father!  If you ask me, partnerships are very tacky.  “Sole Proprietor!”-that’s the way I like to run my affairs.  Why don’t you just make a world of beauty and bounty, and skip the partner part?”  His wings stretched out to the sides as thought they were trying to catch every sound of the Lord’s answer, like great, big elephant ears.

The Lord wanted Katan to get the idea he was all right.  “Tacky, indeed, little Katan!  Of course, it would be much simpler to live without such a partner,  In fact, it would make me a lot more like you daydreaming alone in this garden while all the other angels play tag around the comets.”

Katan first lowered his eyes in shame and tucked his wings behind his back, “I guess I should probably be playing with the other angels.”  Then, inspired, he lifted his smiling eyes.  “But then I wouldn’t be sitting here talking to you, dear Father.”

The Lord enjoyed the banter.  “Oh ho!  You got me there, little one!”  Katan fluffed his wings.  “But I am not a daydreamer.  I will create a partner because I AM a partner.  ”Partner”–you know, give and take; work together–is who I am.  If I am not sharing, I am not myself.  Anyway, the complexity of the plan is not troubling me.  Complicated things are easy for me.”

“Then it sounds like you do have it all worked out.  So why are you–thinking so hard?  For a moment, you reminded me of–me.”

“I am not thinking so hard because something is hard to figure out, Katan.  There’s nothing to figure.  It’s just that I don’t like everything I see.  To begin with, if I want ADAM to be a partner, I have to create a man who can disagree with me if he wants to.”

Katan was off the rock and facing the Lord, hovering, his wings like a hummingbird’s.  “No way will ADAM disagree with you, Lord.  Why would he?  He should give up anything just for the chance to be your partner.  He will listen to everything you say.”

“You’d be surprised.  You are disagreeing with me right now.”

Katan sat back down.  “But, Father, you have nothing to worry about.  You are good and right.  All you do is good and right.  All that you create is life and light and beauty.  ADAM will serve you gladly.”

“Even an angel may disagree with me, little one.  The highest angel Lucifer was created in life and light and beauty.  He wasn’t glad or thankful.  He rebelled.”

Katan’s determination sank like stone.  His chin needed the support of his hands.  “Oh, I heard about that in my lessons.  I forgot about Lucifer.  Now he only visits here, right?”

The Father’s face twisted into a sneer.  “Visit?  I wouldn’t call it that.   He comes on business.  That’s all.”

Katan sat up.  “Well, Father, it’s easy.  I have it figured out.  Make ADAM so he always agrees with you.  You can do that, right?  You are God!”

“You might think I could, but I can’t, little angel.  Sure, I know the recipe to make such a creature–a handful of bones, a portion of flesh, an organ to pump blood through his body, and a simple mind.  This sort of creature is not at all like me, though, until he has a will, until he can choose.  He has to choose what he wants to be.  I have to make ADAM free to disagree.”

“But, Father, (Oh, my Lord, here I am disagreeing with you again!) you are God.  I wouldn’t think you HAVE to do anything.”

The Father chuckled at yet another of Katan’s silly thoughts.  “Of course, I do.  I HAVE to be God, don’t I?  I have to be true to myself.”

“So you have to create a partner?”

“Yup.  As an expression of love.  You come to this garden at recess even though every other little angel is giddy with the chance to go far and fast.  Why do you do it?  Because you are through and through a daydreamer.  Yes, you love to go far and fast like the other angels, but you do it in the special Katan-way.  You do it in your mind, not your wings.”  Katan tried to hide his wings.

“And you have to make man free to disobey you?”

“Sure.  Don’t you see it?  If my partner can’t disagree with me and disobey me, he is not a genuine partner.  If my partner obeys me it should be his choice to do so, because he believes in what I am telling him to do and he trusts me.  How could I call myself “Love” ever again, if I make a man who is not free to leave me?  I do not want a toy.  I want a partner.”

“I think I understand, but I still don’t see what is bothering you.”

“Because you don’t see the future.”

“Why?  What will happen?”

“I see millions of futures-even more-millions of millions.  In many of them I see ADAM having children and his children having even more until people fill every place on earth.  I see them singing.  I see them embracing each other and sharing special feasts, visiting each other, blessing each other, and helping each other.  I see ADAM’s people exploring and learning, planting and building, inventing and prospering.  They guard my earth from Lucifer, but among ADAM’s children, happy villages without walls and guards and locks on the doors sprout up all over.  These futures are clean and healthy and good.”

Katan looked at the ground and kicked at a root.  “You weren’t thinking about the happy worlds when I came in.  You were frowning.  You were definitely frowning, and it surprised me.”

“I lot of things about me will surprise you.  You are right, little one.  Not only are there so many wonderful futures.  There are also millions of futures that displease me.  I see them as well as I see the delightful ones.  Only they are dark and violent, filled with ugliness, fear, anger, and hate.  They are the ones that make me frown.”

“Tell me, Lord.”  Again, Katan was all ears, and all wings.

The Lord chuckled.  “Katan, you are an angel of the lowest rank, but you have the heart of an archangel.”

“Tell me about the nightmares that make you frown, Father.”

After hesitating a moment, the Lord granted Katan his request.  “I see the sons of ADAM trying to ruin each other with cruel insults and threats.   Then, driven by greed, they start killing each other, Katan.  At first they do it with their hands.  Then they study ways to kill more efficiently with swords, then with throwing things at each other.  They get so good at throwing things at each other that they don’t even have to face each other in war.  They even drop fire from the sky on each other.  They try to destroy entire tribes of their enemies.  They even kill babies while they are still in their mother’s belly.  They rob and cheat, and disrespect each other. 

“Are these dark worlds what come about if ADAM disagrees with you?”

“If ADAM doesn’t trust what I tell him, and doesn’t agree to live as my partner, he will die, first inside.  Later he will even stop breathing.  Without my help ADAM and his children will be lost forever.  The rebellious angels will begin to have their way in my world-at great price to me.”

“It doesn’t seem possible, that you will stand aside while ADAM surrenders your earth to the devil.”  Katan made himself as big as he could by opening his wings wide.

“That’s just it, my little Katan.  I cannot stand by.  I will not stand by.  Even if ADAM prefers Lucifer and his wicked army of evil-doers, I will say true to myself.”

“What will you do, Father, if ADAM rebels against you?”

“I will send God the Word to the earth.”

Katan jumped up and began boxing the shadows, one, two-one, two.  “Oh, Father, God the Word is so strong, and smart, and young, and able.  He will fight the evil.  He will conquer it.  He will be a mighty warrior, and he will make the people you have created obey you.”  He began to twirl as a dream struck him.  “Oh, Father, we angels are his servants.  We will go to earth with the God the Word in fire and power.  We will defeat the wicked ones and give the earth back to you.”  Katan was off and flying, trying to impress the Father with his agility.  He dodged around trees and under bridges, up to the clouds and under garden benches.

The Father grabbed Katan’s hand to stop his twirling and look at him in the eye.  “You are a smart angel, little one.  With your insights you won’t be an angel of the lowest rank for long.  But you are in a bit of a hurry.”

“Don’t you want us to reclaim your earth, dear Lord?”

“It is no problem for me to be powerful, Katan, and put down a rebellion by force.  I can show myself a warrior.  Certainly God the Word can show himself a mighty man of war.  And we will from time to time.”

“Then why do you say I am in a hurry?”  Katan was hovering.

“You began by asking me why I was frowning.  I am filled with sorrow over what the man may become.  The truth is, I am in agony, my dear one, over the thought of sending God the Word to the earth.”

“But, Father, the Word is mighty!  No one is so strong as he is.”

“Katan, if you can imagine it, we will send him to earth, not to be mighty, but to be a man.  He will be mighty in some ways.  He will conquer diseases and demons.  He will feed thousands of people from a few loaves of bread and a handful of fish.  These things will show he is mighty.  But the real purpose is not to be mighty.  The real purpose is to be a man.  This is the part that has me in agony.”

Katan came down to the ground.  His wings were poised.  “Oh Father, will you help me?  I don’t understand.”

“Little Katan, if everything goes as planned, God the Word will die.  I am happy to send the Word to earth.  I want to.  I need to.  I must do it.  But do you hear me?  If everything goes as planned, God the Word must die.”

“Die?”  Wings folded back.

“God the Word will become a man.”

“Like Adam, Lord?”

“Someone will call him the last ADAM.  Like all the children of ADAM, he will be born to a woman, and he will feel the cold night air chilling his tender baby skin on his first night on earth.  His nose will be like a little button when he is born.  It will be red from the cold.  If you put your warm cheek against his nose, you will feel it cold.  He will grow up the way a man does fighting his own battles with rebellion and pride, lust and anger, laziness and doubt.  If all goes as planned, he will die a horrible death.”

“But, oh, dear Father, it is too much!  Why will you do such a thing?  Why will God the Word become a man and die a horrible death?”

“It is the way I will redeem ADAM and his children.  If they rebel against me, I will redeem the sinful.  I will buy them back from their sin and make a way for them to be my eternal partners.   I will  make God the Word a man like ADAM and he will give for the price of the world’s sin, his very life blood.”

Katan’s face twisted.  “Buy them with blood?”

“I am buying forgiveness.”

“Just forgive them, Father!”

“Here your thinking is not good, little one.  Do you mean I should just pretend that they have not rejected me and my good gifts to them?  Do you mean that I should just grant them life with me without paying this price.  It cannot be done.”

“You are God, Lord.  Heaven is your home.  If you want to let them live forever with you, it is your choice.  It is up to you.”  Through the next few moments, Katan’s wings beat a big rhythmic flap of an eagle in it’s majestic flight, and it is the kind of thing angels want to do when they want to strike the fear of God into a human being.  Of course, Katan was going to have trouble striking the fear of God into God.

“No, little Katan.”

“Yes, Lord.  Man will grow smarter after he has sinned.  He will learn his lesson and make himself fit to be with you forever here in heaven.”

“No, my child.”

“You will open heaven’s gate.  You will allow the sorrowful to enter.”

“Katan!”

Katan became louder and louder.  His wings beat faster, and with loud swooshing noise.  Truth be told, he spoke in love of his heavenly Father, out of simple-minded concern for the Lord.  His eyes began to water when he saw the Father’s determination to go through with the plan.  “Lord!  Blood will not be needed.  Man can climb here.  You will make ADAM strong, won’t you?  He can climb here.”

“By his rebellion, he will make himself weak.  We will have to go to him.  We will have to pay the price.”

“Make ADAM pay the price.”

“He is poor, child.”

“Don’t do this thing, sending God the Word to become a man and die.  It is will not be needed.”

“It will be needed.  I will make a good earth, fruitful and pleasant and bountiful.  Is that gift not to be respected?  Doesn’t it have a price.  I will make a good man, a man I want to live forever.  When he squanders eternal life, when he acts like an animal who does not think ahead, is he not to be held responsible for wasting the gift?  I will be his partner and walk with him and talk with him in a garden like this one.  Shouldn’t a partnership with me have a price?  Shouldn’t it be appreciated?”

Big tears were streaming down Katan’s face.  His wings had become like the hair that stands on the back of an angry dog.  “You can do it another way, my Father!  You can buy man back another way!  You can forgive man by paying a different price!”

“The life is in the blood, child.  Life for life.  I am not going to give up on my partner once I create him, even if he turns away from me.  But I am not going to disrespect my gifts to him.  If man disrespects the gifts I give him, shall we call it forgiveness if I disrespect them also?  I will make a way for him, and I will give honor to the gift of life.  We will pay the price for mankind’s sin with blood. “

“Then let the man go to hell with the devils!”  Katan was foaming with fury and frustration. 

The Lord raised his voice to break through the distraught angel’s hysteria, “Katan!”

Katan had shocked even himself.  He tried to explain.  “Oh dear!  I feel your agony, Oh Father!”

“You do not.”

“I do, Lord, I do!  Oh, such a price!  But pay it you must!  Oh, dear, dear price!”  Katan was nearly spent.

“Ah, little Katan, I feel no agony at the price.  I am love.  I am ready to forgive.”

“Oh, Lord, the price, the price, the blood, the blood!”

“Katan, you haven’t begun to understand.”

“Oh, Lord, Oh dear God!  Oh, dear Word!”

“Child, you have insisted.  Now you will hear the whole of it.  I am not in agony at visions of a million terrifying futures in which ADAM and the children of ADAM disagree with me and disrespect the gifts I have bestowed on him.  I am not in an agony over my needing to make a way for him back to life and goodness.  The thought of forgiving him or paying the price of blood do not trouble me.”

“I have been very foolish, dear Father!”

“I have told you already, but you have not shaken loose from your own busy thoughts to hear me.  I have said it many times, “If all goes as planned…  It is the IF that troubles me.”

Katan didn’t understand, but he didn’t answer quickly.  He thought and thought.  He so wanted to be a good angel, a good servant to the Father.  His desire to be good held his tongue in check for a long time.  But he finally gave up.  He confessed, “I am so sorry, Father, I still don’t understand.”

“I know,” replied the Father.

“I am blind, Lord.”

“God the Word must become a man to die, to shed his blood for the forgiveness of his fellow man’s sin.”

“I understand.”

“God the Word must be a genuine man and a genuine partner, so he may present a worthy price for the forgiveness of sin?  Do you remember what it takes to be a genuine man and a genuine partner?  Did you learn?”

“He must have not only bones, and flesh and blood in his veins.  He must have a will.”

“Indeed, child.  And that’s is what troubles me.  God the Word will become a man named JESUS.  It means “Savior.”  If all goes as planned, he will sacrifice his life to save the world from its sin.  But what if all does not go as planned?”

“Will Jesus be able to rebel?  I mean, he will be God the Word, right?”

“Yes, but he will be a genuine man and a genuine partner, so he, too, must be made with the ability to disagree and reject the plan.”

“Jesus can sin?  Can you protect him?”

“I will protect him.  But with only the same protections that I give to any man.  Jesus will have to pray.  He will have to study.  He will have to be careful where he goes.  He will have to be careful where he looks and on what he allows his mind to linger.”

“What if he sins?”  Katan’s voice was shaky.  He had made so many errors in speaking up to the Father.  He didn’t want to make another.  But suddenly a darkness was before his imagination, so deep and so fearful as he had never thought could be.

“I don’t want to imagine.  He will be God.  But he will be tempted in all the same ways that any other man is tempted.  And believe me, if he is tempted, it is only because he really is free to choose rebellion and sin.”

Katan wasn’t sure if he should ask some more questions.  He was afraid.  “Can Jesus still save the people if he sins?”

“No.” 

“Can Jesus still be God if he-makes a mistake?”

“No.”

“Can you save Jesus?”

“I don’t see how.  I myself won’t be the same any more.”

“What do you mean?”

“I will have failed.”

“You’ll still have God-power.”

“No.  Might doesn’t make right.  It’s the other way around.  Right makes might.  God will have lost the right.  I will be two thirds of a God.”

“Two thirds?”

“Without God the Word, two thirds.  And do you know what is two thirds of a God?  Because I don’t.  Maybe it’s a weed.  Or a worm.  I have never seen two thirds of a God.”

“You won’t do it, will you, Father?  You won’t risk it?”

“Sending God the Word to become my Son Jesus?  Yes, I will risk it if ADAM rebels against me.”

“Father!”  Katan was too humiliated already to throw any more tantrums.

“I must, child.  I have a will, too.  And I choose to be true.  I am love.”

“Then you must not create ADAM.  It all begins with that sixth day of your plan.  You must not create the man.  He is the first cause of all this dangerous journey.”

“No, little Katan, he is not the first cause.  Love is the first cause.  I am the first cause, and I call those things which are not as though they are.  I declare the end of things from the beginning, so that all my counsel will stand.”

“Lord?”

“I will create this earth I have told you of.  On the sixth day I will create ADAM, and at ADAM’s request I will make him a helper, EVE, to be his wife.  If ADAM disagrees with me and rebels against me, I will send God the Word to become my Son, Jesus, Savior of the world.”

The tears were rolling down Katan’s eyes, but he was silent.  His face was hot and he was exhausted from the fight in this favorite garden of his.  He fell to his knees and lifted his hands in worship and reverence for the great and brave Father of all.  He lifted up a broken voice through lips all gummed up with emotion: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”

The Father, so calm and strong, reached out his hand and laid it on Katan’s head.  “Katan, here is what I see:

“A great search will be made for a man who is worthy to open the seal of the book of life, a book that holds the names of the children of ADAM who are to be found worthy because of their faith in me.  The search will look all over heaven, earth, and hell.  The greatest general and the most famous musician will be considered, but they will not be found worthy.  The wisest statesman and the greatest athlete will be considered, but neither will they be found worthy.  All will be considered-the richest man, the greatest inventor, the most brilliant mathematician, writers, artists, philosophers, men, women, children.  It would be a heart rending disappointment if no one can be found to open the book of life, which has the names of those who should be saved.  But a great angel of high rank will lift his voice, ‘There is one who is worthy.  He is God the Word, but he became a man.  Like a Lamb he was led to the slaughter.  He shed his blood for his people, people from every tribe, every people, every language, and every nation.  He has redeemed them before God by his blood!’  The angel will step back and there will be such a shout raised in heaven!  Angels, beasts, and the elders of the children of ADAM will fall down on their faces in worship of the Lamb of God.  Millions of angels-even you, little Katan-will cry our to Jesus, ‘Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and praise!’

“Little Katan, do not fear, child.  We will be all right.”

The Master

The Galilean mosaic (see “Rachel’s Poem” below) and the Van Gogh (see discussion page for chapter one) are not just decorating cyber space with something pretty.  I love workmanship.  I love to think about how beauty came about. 

Take the work of the impressionist painters.  They wanted us to see each brush stroke.  They left the paint globby and unblended on purpose.  They were begging us to appreciate the process as well as the product.  It wasn’t enough for them to transport us to a lovely evening in a meadow or into a raucous night at a tavern or near the quiet of ballarinas limbering in a dance studio. 

The painters wanted us to get to know them by viewing the painting process.  We can often tell, when looking at a Van Gogh, the order that he applied the paints, how much he had on his brush when he touched the canvas, what applicator he used, or the painter’s color recipes.  The painting gives clues to the movement, pressure, speed, and angle of Van Gogh’s hand and arm while painting.  We can almost see him raising his chin, tilting his head, crouching a little while he painted.

The Artist's Garden at Giverny - Claude Monet (1900)

The Galilean mosaic is like that, too.  It’s a mystery where the artist could find so many precisely calibrated colors in natural stone.  But his use of that stone is transparent to us almost two thousand years after he laid them one at a pain-staking time.  I mean, look closely, and you will find that each stone is just that, an ordinary little stone.  No single tile is perfect.  The crafstman had to break them, after all!  But he was able to lay a collection of oddly shaped stones in a tender, glowing portrait that begs the observer to touch the beauty’s rosey cheek.  I feel like the artist is still perched above the work, face close to her one minute while he places a tiny triangular stone in just the right attitude, and then standing the next minute to see if it looks human enough from the vantage point of his full height.

God is an artist, too.  See:

Isaiah 64:8 Yet, O LORD, you are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand.

Genesis 2:7  The LORD God formed the man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.

Song of Solomon 7:1 How beautiful your sandaled feet, O prince’s daughter! Your graceful legs are like jewels, the work of a craftsman’s hands.

Exodus 32:16 The tablets were the work of God; the writing was the writing of God, engraved on the tablets.

Psalm 19:1 The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

Human lives are his medium–his paint, his tiles. The Bible is his portfolio.   Jesus is his masterpiece.  In fact, Jesus is him, not in an image, not just in a metaphor.  Jesus shows us God.  In Christ, the fullness of the Godhead dwells in a body.

When it comes to reading the Bible we can stand back a little and see God’s purposes or we can stand more closely and appreciate the process.  In appreciating the process we can actually come to know the Lord of life.

Of course, when it comes to people the Lord has a tougher medium to work with than oil paint or natural tile.  When Van Gogh laid a smear of paint or the anonymous tile man placed a smooth piece of stone, he could count on it staying put.  People have proven a lot more rebellious.

It is our love, trust, and obedience to Jesus that enable us to a worthy part of God’s art.

Rachel’s Poem

Called "The Mona Lisa of Galilee" this mosaic is found in the ruins of the Galilean town of Sephoris. It is made of hundreds of tiles of very subtle variation in color.

As you all know by now, I am big on stories.  That’s why Not Even God: The Curious Partnership of God and Man is filled with the stories of my friends. I believe that stories, like pictures and actions, communicate far beyond the words used to tell the story.  It is my love of story that drew me to Christ when I was Rachel’s age.  I began to utterly love Christ as I learned about what he did.  It looks like the same story has also inspired Rachel.

 

Rachel is an eleventh grade Bible student of mine, and she has written a compelling poem that I am honored to post on my blog.  She wrote the poem for an assignment in which the students were to recount the Bible’s meta-narrative.  This meta-narrative is the thread that runs through the entire Bible, a plotline that reveals the will and work of the Almighty through history.  Please feel free to congratulate her with a comment at the bottom of her poem. 

 

 

WHAT WILL YOU DO WITH JESUS?

by Rachel Weimar

 

Come now and see the Man who came

From distant Galilee.

Who gave us truth and life through death,

And came to set us free.

He lived for God and died for us,

Then went to God in glory,

He loved us then and lives for ever,

The climax of this story.

 

There once was nothing, only God,

Our world did not exist.

He made the earth and all within

He spoke man out of dust.

The world was lovely, bright and good,

He said “I give you all,”

One fruit one tree you mustn’t eat,

‘Cause that can damn your soul.

 

But man and woman wouldn’t heed,

They ate the fruit, and then

God cast them out, someday they’ll die,

They’ll toil forever more.

Throughout the long years after that,

The earth was filled with sin.

The Lord just stopped, began again,

With Noah and his seed.

 

The flood God sent wiped out all life,

All evilness was gone.

The only people left on earth?

Good Noah and his sons.

Years later though sin still abounds,

God knew He’d have to make-

A way for us to come to Him,

A price, He’d have to take.

 

The price our sin demands of us,

One we can’t ever pay.

A price He’d have to pay for us

So from Hell our souls could stay.

Though some reject His gracious gift?

A chance he’d have to take.

But God looked down and said “not yet”,

It’s not the time, just wait.

 

Until that time, until that hour,

God walked and talked with man.

Those righteous and who’d do His will,

He’d show for them a plan.

Abraham was a righteous man,

Who God called to a land,

Far from his home, far from his town,

A place God did command.

 

Abram followed God and His lead,

God stayed with him always,

And gave him many progeny,

Who served Him all their days.

Now Abe’s descendants they became,

His people “Israel”,

Named for his grandson Jacob who

Did fight God’s great angel.

 

The Lord used Moses, old and gray,

To lead His people from

Great Egypt where they were the slaves,

And represent His son. 

Years later in the Promised Land,

They had their ups and downs.

And understatement when you think,

Of how they turned God down.

 

They fought Him time and time again,

Forgot what He had done.

He sent them men to tell them of

The Promised One who’d come.

Who’d die for man and take the blame

Our sinful hearts retain.

 

Isaiah saw it clearer then,

Then some saw when He came!

He told them of their sinful ways,

“Repent!” for God will judge!

But they would not just heed his words,

They thought God couldn’t see

The sinful things that they did do,

The places they would be.

 

The paths their feet made in the dirt

The trodden way they took,

From low to high they disobeyed,

They thought God didn’t look.

 

Then later came the future that,

God said he would reveal

His only Son, our Jesus Christ

Who came to save the world.

Our sin entraps us in a snare

That pulls us down to HELL,

God knew we couldn’t be with Him,

Until a price was paid.

 

Our Jesus walked upon this earth,

Was sinless as a lamb

Of Mary born, so Godly she,

Inside a stable’s trough.

The virgin-yes, she was foretold-

Gave birth to Christ our king.

Who shepherds saw and kings did praise,

Our King and Lord of Lords.

 

Upon this earth our Jesus walked,

Preached truth and life to all,

He healed the sick and raised the dead,

To His feet all men will fall.

He preached and taught the way to God

Was God in human form,

But one thing was still to be done,

He knew that all the way.

 

Why did He come, our Lord of Lords?

Men think and some do say,

That price we owed, and couldn’t pay,

He came to take OUR PLACE!

The price is DEATH, no life in God

Torment always in HELL,

Our Lord knew and he took our place,

Within each hand a nail.

His death paid for all of our lives

He hung upon a cross.

His death paid for all of our lives

Our king and Lord of Lords.

 

Our Lord was gentle, like a lamb,

Carried the cross for us.

No words He yelled at all of them

Who nailed Him on that cross.

Spit at and beaten, whipped and nailed,

Punched at and laughed at too,

He took it all, in silence bled

For us, for me and you

 

With his last breaths, he prayed for them

For those who nailed Him there

“Forgive them, Lord, for they don’t know,

The evil that they do!”

When He gave up His spirit then,

And finished the work for us,

The heavens darkened, veil was torn

He’d done it all for us.

 

Now don’t be sad, it’s not done yet

For after that he rose!

Three long days later in the tomb,

No one could find his bones!

Now that’s for certain, yes it is,

This first century tomb, uncovered just outside the ancient walls of Jerusalem, was found tantalizingly EMPTY!

He did it all, went all the way

We know He’s really God!

 

So many saw Him after that

A new body He had

He will not die He won’t be hurt

He’s God our Lord Supreme,

And there’s a future, it’s not done

We have a part to play.

 

So now He made a way, what now?

How can we all escape?

Our doom in Hell apart from God,

The curse upon our souls

He paid the price, believe on Him,

His sacrifice for YOU

So when you die you’ll go to Him

And live with Him in heaven

You must be faithful, live for Him

And you’ll see Him someday

 

‘Cause guess what?-someday He’ll come back

He’ll come take all His saints

Until then, though, He said He’ll send

Another Comforter,

His Holy Spirit gives us power

To just say NO to sin!

It gives us peace and tongues and FIRE

So He’s with us always.

 

 

So in the day that He comes back

It’s near, His second coming,

He’ll take the saints who’ve lived for Him,

They’ll live with Him in glory.

 

And if you haven’t lived for Him

Then you’ll be left down here.

Seven years of plague and trouble

And never ending fear.

 

Even that will be best for you

If Him you don’t believe.

‘Cause that’s the second chance for man,

At least who’s still alive.

And if you die and don’t repent,

To HELL your soul will go.

Forever torment, far from God

A lake of burning fire.

 

And in that Tribulation time,

The converts will be killed.

Evil will reign upon this earth,

Satan will have his way.

 

But even that is not the end,

‘Cause when that time is done,

We’ll ALL come back, saints with our Lord

A BATTLE will be won!

The Lord in splendor He will fight

The evil left on earth,

And we’ll be with Him, you and me

If His death you accept

In that day when the Lord will come

And slay all of His foes

We’ll be with Him on that great day,

 On horses white as snow

 

The Lord will win the battle then,

He’ll have the final say.

You don’t want to be on the side

That loses in that day.

 

So where will you be, o you man?

On YOUR day of judgment?

It could be NOW we never know

If we will have tomorrow.

 

For someday you will stand before

The Lord upon His throne

And answer why you didn’t just

Accept Jesus His SON.

 

WHAT WILL YOU DO WITH JESUS?

 

Jesus would often climb to high ground by the Sea of Galilee and pray in solitude.