Articles

Whether loved or hated, Israel is a magnet. Although no larger than the state of New Jersey, she draws journalists, statesmen, and tourists from all over the world to a few acres of the most contested real estate on earth.

Arriving from many nations, Jewish, Christian, and Muslim pilgrims stream through Ben Gurion airport in Tel Aviv to see with their own eyes the cities, mountains, and valleys that are home to some of their deepest thoughts and hopes.

The People of This Land

Most of those who come to Israel discover a common bond with the people of the land. Almost everyone they find here traces their ancestry back to the same father. Although the region was occupied before and after by people of other family groups, almost everyone claims to be related through a man named Abraham. Ironically Abraham, whose name means “father of many,” was childless until the age of eighty-five.

Arab people see themselves as the children of Abraham’s first son, Ishmael. Jewish people trace their lineage through a second son, Isaac. And Christians see themselves as the spiritual children of Abraham (Galatians 3:7).

From within this family tree, however, God chose the line of Isaac to be the “branch” through which He would reveal Himself to the world. In time, it became apparent that this branch would bear not only the fruit of God’s blessing but the burden of heaven’s correction as well.

The Story of This Land

The unfolding drama of “the chosen people” is more than the greatest story ever told. It is also the longest running show in history. For the last four thousand years the curtains of time have risen and fallen on a land that has been like a great stage positioned on a land bridge and the trade routes between Africa, Asia, and Europe.

With timeless significance the people of this land have told the story of a great King who let His own Son die in order to save the lives and future of His people.

The times and people of this story have made the land into an enormous national museum of history. Here thoughtful visitors climb steps and walk corridors carpeted with the hopes and dreams of a nation. The irony is that this national museum is not designed to showcase the treasures of a royal dynasty. Instead, its halls and steps wind their way to a main exhibit built in honor of a lowly rabbi-carpenter from Nazareth.

The Messiah of This Land

There has never been another man like Him. Known in His day as a rabbi from the wrong side of town, His miraculous life, profound wisdom, premature death, and astounding resurrection have given Him a status greater than Abraham. Calendars of the world count from the year of His birth.

Jewish prophets anticipated His coming. They spoke of a King who would bring peace to the world (Isaiah 2:1-4). They foresaw that this “Anointed One” would be conceived within the womb of a virgin (Isaiah 7:14). He would be called “Mighty God” (Isaiah 9:6). He would be born in Bethlehem, the city of David (Micah 5:2). They also predicted that this Servant of God would die as a lamb led to the slaughter, to bear the wrongs of others (Isaiah 53; Daniel 9:26; Zechariah 12:10).

The Witnesses of This Land

In the region of Galilee’s great freshwater lake, the Jewish and Gentile people from shoreline communities met this teacher face to face. Together they saw Him heal crippled bodies. Some saw Him walk on water. They saw Him feed thousands of people with four loaves of bread and a couple of fish.

The Messiah they saw has left His impact on every generation since. His answer to our spiritual needs is what led Blaise Pascal, a seventeenth-century physicist, mathematician, and Christian philosopher, to say, “There is a God-shaped vacuum in the heart of every man which cannot be filled by any created thing, but only by God the Creator, made known through Jesus Christ.”

The Real Importance of This Land

The real importance of this land is that it bore the footprints of our God as He walked among us. It bore the weight of the best man who ever lived as He hung on an executioner’s cross. It gave us witnesses who reported His resurrection from the dead three days later. Then the cumulative evidence of this land asks us, “What are you going to do with Him?”

Each of us needs to answer this question. The witnesses of this land invite us to come closer. The gospel writer Luke brings us close enough to overhear a conversation that occurred as the long-awaited Messiah hung dying between two criminals being executed at His side. While one of these men mocked Jesus because He was dying as they were, the other was more thoughtful and introspective. The second criminal said to the first, “We receive the due reward of our deeds; but this Man has done nothing wrong.” Then he turned to Jesus and said, “Remember me when You come into Your Kingdom.” Jesus said, “Today you will be with Me in Paradise” (Luke 23:43). By a simple act of trust, a condemned, dying criminal received heaven’s pardon and everlasting life.

All of the chapters of Israel’s history point to the death and resurrection of the One who made that promise to a dying man. As the Messiah of Israel was dying, He used a condemned criminal to show all of us how we too can be with Him forever. His words were for all of us. He will bring to His eternal home all who say from their hearts, “I’ve done wrong. I believe You died for my sins. I accept You as my Savior and entrust myself to You.”

Those who make this decision understand why Israel cannot be ignored. It’s no wonder that, whether loved or hated, Israel is a magnet. This land is the stage for the greatest story ever told. It is a national museum of history and theology. It is one great archaeological dig for the land of the Bible. This is the battlefield for our souls, our hearts, and our minds.

Bad blood in the Mideast flows from generation to generation like an ancient river of oil and water. From the days of Abram to our own breaking news, there seems to be no end to the fatal rivalry of Ishmael and Isaac.

The conflict that began with patriarchs of the Arab and Jewish people affects all of us. It costs us at the gas pump. It divides us at church. Some of us think our faith leads us to be pro-Israel. Some think a good Samaritan theology favors the Palestinians.

An Inclination to Side with Israel

My pattern has been to side with those who are sympathetic to the Jewish struggle for a homeland because:

• we remember that the God of the Bible gave the “promised land” to Israel.
• we are embarrassed by the anti-Semitism of our church fathers and want to disassociate ourselves from any hint of the hatred seen in Haman or Hitler.
• we believe the events of the Holocaust show the Jewish people’s need for a homeland.
• we see in Israel’s rebirth not only evidence for the God of the Bible but for our view of prophecy as well.
• most important, we hear God saying to Abram, “I will bless those who bless you, and I will curse him who curses you; and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (Genesis 12:3).

A Tendency to Forget Arab Interests

It’s easy to forget that:

• as people of the gospel we are to bless all and to curse no one (Romans 12:14); and
• while supporting Israel’s need for a homeland, we need to remember the non-Jewish families whose ancestors have lived in the Holy Land for centuries.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to betray the trust of our Jewish friends. I just deeply regret that I have heard the cries of Sarah and Isaac while being blind to the tears of Hagar and Ishmael. I haven’t done well in distinguishing between what God is doing in Israel and what Israel herself is doing without God.

The Unequal Legacy of Ishmael

From the beginning, Ishmael seemed to be the son of a bad idea. Although he was born into the home of Abram and Sarah, Ishmael was conceived as a result of his father’s relationship with an Egyptian woman named Hagar.

At Sarah’s suggestion, Abram had a child by her live-in housekeeper. But the solution itself gave birth to trouble. Later, when Sarah miraculously conceived a son of her own, the stage was set for conflict between the two boys and their mothers. At Sarah’s urging, Abram put Hagar and Ishmael out of the house.

According to Genesis 21:17-20, heaven responded tenderly to the tears of Hagar. The angel of the Lord gave her son a name which means “God will hear” (Genesis 16:11). God Himself was with Ishmael (Genesis 21:20) and promised to make him into a great nation (Genesis 17:20).

In the process of befriending Hagar and Ishmael, however, God seems to warn of the painful consequences that will result from Abram’s actions. Of the child he and his wife threw into the wilderness, God said, “He shall be a wild man [literally wild donkey]. His hand shall be against every man, and every man’s hand against him. And he shall dwell in the presence of all his brethren” (Genesis 16:12). Ishmael seemed destined to show us that hurt people hurt people. Being thrown out of the house probably contributed not only to his own approach to life but to a survival attitude that became a part of his legacy.

The Need for Balance and Fairness

Several factors can help to balance our understanding of what God was doing with Isaac and Ishmael:

• God’s choice of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob as the “line of promise” was intended to be for the good of everyone, not just their own children. From the beginning God made it clear that He was choosing one nation for the sake of all (Genesis 12:1-3).
• Although Ishmael was predicted to be a “wild donkey,” there were equally unflattering names and predictions in the Jewish legacy. Jacob, father of the twelve tribes of Israel, was given a birth name that meant “betrayer, or deceiver.” Later the prophets of Israel described their own nation as a “lusty donkey,” as a “prostitute” (Jeremiah 2), and as a community that made Sodom and Gomorrah look good by comparison (Ezekiel 16:48-52).
• The legacy of the chosen people was a heavy burden. They were chosen not only to show the whole world the power and goodness of the one true God, but also to show all the nations of the earth what happens when people ignore and wander from the love and wisdom of their Creator (Deuteronomy 28-30).
• Even if God’s hand can be seen in Israel’s presence in the land, we need to remember her spiritual condition. Israel today mirrors what the prophet Ezekiel foresaw in his vision of the dry bones. Hundreds of years before Christ, God predicted that in the last days Israel would come together physically before being reborn spiritually (Ezekiel 37:1-4).
• Israel’s efforts to secure her borders are like Abram’s and Sarah’s attempts to have a son by Hagar. History is repeating itself. Human solutions once again are multiplying into human problems and pain.

And how are we to respond? We can respond with awe, because what God has chosen to do and to allow is unfolding before our eyes. We can respond with discernment, because there is a difference between what God is doing in Israel and what Israel herself is doing without God. And we can respond with goodwill, because the God who has promised to take care of us has asked us in turn to bless all and to curse no one (Romans 12:14).

In the last days, all nations of the earth will turn against one small state. As this present age comes to a close, the Bible says the whole world will be united by their shared hatred of the nation of Israel.

What are the implications for ourselves? Are we obliged to take sides with Israel now? Are we bound by our faith to line up with the political struggles of the Jewish people, not only because God will rescue their homeland in the end but because God told Abraham, “I will bless those who bless you, and I will curse him who curses you”? (Genesis 12:3).

The answer is not what we might think. People of the Bible cannot afford to be caught cursing anyone. We have no reason to choose sides against any people, Jewish, Arab, or otherwise. We are called to be peacemakers, lovers of all, and messengers of a gospel that is blind to national and ethnic distinctions. Our calling is to bless people of all nations by our prayers, concerns, and compassion.

Does this mean we are to have no opinion when Palestinians call for the destruction of the State of Israel? Do we ignore the plight of Arab families whose sons die under the fire of Israeli artillery? No. In all matters, we are to be motivated by issues of justice and compassion. Even as we pray for the peace of Jerusalem, we have reason to pray for the peace of Damascus, the peace of Cairo, and the peace of Baghdad.

To the extent that we are people of the light, we will be impartial in our love for all people, while knowing that there is no other nation on earth like the nation of Israel. While being one of the smallest countries in the world, she is one huge national museum of theology. Her antiquities are stage and props in an unfolding drama of ethics, philosophy, and history. Her land is a battlefield for the war of the gods.

But what is even more important is to recognize that God has a plan for Israel. It is not just a matter of past history or present survival. The Scriptures tell us that there will come a day when God will reveal His Son to Israel, and they will look upon Him whom they have pierced (Zechariah 12:10). They will mourn for Him as one mourns for an only child, and their mourning will turn to joy as they recognize Him as their Messiah.

This future recognition will be a turning point not only for Israel but for the whole world. The prophets tell us that the law will go forth from Zion, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem (Isaiah 2:3). The nations will come to worship the King, the Lord of hosts, in Jerusalem, and His kingdom will extend over the whole earth (Zechariah 14:16-19). This is the future that awaits Israel and the world.

As we consider these things, let us remember to pray for the peace of Jerusalem and for the fulfillment of God’s promises to Israel and the nations. Let us ask God to hasten the day when His will shall be done on earth as it is in heaven, and when the knowledge of the Lord shall cover the earth as the waters cover the sea (Habakkuk 2:14).

And then, to understand the Bible’s answer to the problems of our own personal identity, listen carefully to its message about a life-changing relationship with the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, a relationship that is built upon the realization that He alone has offered a Sacrifice adequate to pay for the worst of our sins, that He alone is willing to forgive as a gift, in exchange for the simple offer of our own surrender and trust.

Scientists tell us that our galaxy is home not only to our own sun and its family of planets, but to billions of other stars. They tell us that our disk-shaped galaxy is about one hundred thousand light-years wide and about two thousand light-years thick. Yet, astronomers tell us that this “cosmic disk” (itself made up of billions of stars) is only one of billions of galaxies known to exist in the universe.

It seems that thinking about such a creation should cause me to praise its Creator. But I have other emotions. I find little comfort in a God whose creation can be measured only in light-years and in billions of galaxies, each made up of billions of stars.

Don’t get me wrong. I know that if God were not greater than that which He has created we might all succumb to a creation that is out of control. But what some see through a telescope doesn’t awaken my heart in praise until I also think about what others have seen through a microscope. Through a microscope we see the infinite attention to detail that the God of the universe has given to the “little things of life.”

The inexpressible systems and details of microscopic life allow me to find great comfort and credibility in the One who reassures us that the hairs of our head are all numbered (Matthew 10:29-31), that a sparrow doesn’t fall to the ground unnoticed, and that we are of much more value to Him than many sparrows.

Yet, once again, as I think about the God of little things, the praise slips back into my throat. In His attention to detail, there is danger. Jesus said that we will have to give account for every careless word we have spoken (Matthew 12:36). King David said God not only knows when we stand up and when we sit down, but also what we are thinking (Psalm 139). Solomon said that on a final day of judgment God will examine the secret motives of our heart (Ecclesiastes 12:13-14).

Once again my heart grows cold, until I think of the cross. It is at the cross that my heart finally seems to find wholehearted praise. At Calvary, I can think about the greatness of the God of the galaxies, the One who counts the hairs of my head and the steps of my feet. At Calvary, I can remember the price that it took for Him to pay for the least and worst of my sins, to buy my salvation, and to call me into His undeserved kindness. At Calvary, the God who formed the galaxies becomes the God who loves me, as much as I need to be loved. And for that, I want to praise Him. Now, and forever . . .

I’m looking forward to long walks with good friends, shared meals without rushing, and endless laughter at no one’s expense.

I’m anticipating meaningful work with plenty of time for reading, photography, fishing, and community service. For occasional entertainment, I haven’t written off stadiums and ballparks. If my hunch is right, competition between friends will be healthy in heaven. I’m wondering if there might even be hockey without fights, soccer without brawls, and basketball playoffs where losing well is valued as much as winning. There may even be a safe form of boxing and NASCAR.

Frivolous speculation? Maybe. Insulting to God? I hope not. I’m trying to imagine a heaven that builds on the good we know while leaving behind the evil.

As a child, I feared heaven would be boring. I missed the point of gold streets and pearly gates. As a ten-year-old, what I really liked doing most was playing baseball, collecting fossils, and hunting frogs.

In the years that followed, the deaths of family members and friends have changed the way I think about heaven. But I still have questions. What will we do after enjoying long embraces, tears of laughter, and catching up? My mind still locks up like an overloaded computer when I try to weigh imponderable questions about a hereafter that will last forever.

Ironically, what gives me the most peace of mind is not cutting loose my imagination, but rather learning to trust. I find rest in the thought that God doesn’t want us to know what He has planned for us. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear such a God say something like, “If I told you, I’d have to take you.” Or, based on the apostle Paul’s experience, “If I told you how good it’s going to be, I’d have to make life more difficult for you now.”

Paul seemed to imply as much when describing what he thought might have been an out-of-body experience. By his own admission, he wasn’t sure what happened. But he said he was caught up to paradise where he heard things he wasn’t allowed to talk about (2 Corinthians 12:1-4). Apparently, whatever Paul heard was so exhilarating that it would have distracted him from an ongoing dependence upon the grace of God. So, for the duration of Paul’s time on earth, the Lord of heaven let him suffer at the hand of Satan to keep him on his knees (2 Corinthians 12:7-9).

I’m convinced that the God who taught Paul to depend on Him one day at a time is now teaching us to rely on Him for an eternity that is beyond our ability to understand.

So how much does He want us to know?

Heaven in the Jewish Scriptures Moses and the prophets tell us only a little about heaven. Asaph, the worship leader of Israel, tells us as much as anyone when he says to his God, “You will guide me with Your counsel, and afterward receive me to glory. Whom have I in heaven but You? And there is none upon earth that I desire besides You” (Psalm 73:24-25).

Later the prophet Isaiah predicts a new relationship between heaven and earth. He foresees a day of international peace, when God will live among His people on earth, when even wild animals will no longer prey on one another (Isaiah 2:4; 65:25). Isaiah envisions the eventual renewal and restoration of earth and sky when he quotes God as saying, “For, behold, I create new heavens and a new earth; and the former shall not be remembered, or come to mind. . . . The voice of weeping shall no longer be heard in her, nor the voice of crying” (Isaiah 65:17-19).

Heaven in the Teachings of Jesus Jesus spoke often of the kingdom of heaven. It was His way of speaking of the realm of God’s rule. In prayer, He taught His disciples to say, “Your kingdom come, Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:10).

Our Teacher, however, described heaven as more than the seat of divine government. He also called it His Father’s house. He told His disciples He was going there to prepare a place for them. “That where I am, there you may be also” (John 14:3). This will be a place of happiness and everlasting reward where treasures don’t rust, wear out, or get stolen (Matthew 6:19-20).

Heaven in Revelation The last book in the Bible brings together into one great vision many themes of God’s original creation. In Revelation, heaven comes to earth. The city of God descends to us. God lives among His people and wipes away every “tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away” (Revelation 21:1-4).

Now and Forever So do I still warm to the possibilities I mentioned earlier? Only in a limited sense. Competition where everyone wins might be the equivalent of gold streets or pearly gates. I don’t know. I want to hold those lightly. What I’m more sure about is that our God wants us to hold tightly the anticipation of living with Him forever.

I’m convinced that God is planning one surprise after another, and that heaven will be far more than we ever imagined, not less. And whatever it involves will center on the One who assured His friends with the words, “Let not your heart be troubled . . . . I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also” (John 14:1-3).

Teachers of creative thinking sometimes say, “All things are connected. Try to find relationships where you’ve never seen them before.”

The exercise might raise questions among those who are more committed to “living by the book” than to “thinking outside the box.” On the other hand, it could be that no one has a better reason to believe “all things are connected” than those who take the Bible seriously.

Let me give you an example. You decide whether you think “the connection” is real or imagined.

Could there be a parallel between the creative process God used to make the earth and the process He now wants to use to reorder our inner world? The case sounds like this.

The God who created the earth made something out of nothing. He brought order out of chaos and spoke light into the darkness.

Thousands of years later, this same Creator is still speaking light into the darkness. Now, however, He is speaking into a world of darkened hearts that, for many generations, have been turning their backs on Him (John 1:1-14). The God who now wants to re-create our inner world comes with the assurance that, in Christ, He gives us everything we need (2 Peter 1:1-4).

Thus, Peter, a close friend and apostle of Christ, writes, “For this very reason, giving all diligence, add to your faith virtue, to virtue knowledge, to knowledge self-control, to self-control perseverance, to perseverance godliness, to godliness brotherly kindness, and to brotherly kindness love. For if these things are yours and abound, you will be neither barren nor unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ” (2 Peter 1:5-8).

Now see if you hear echoes of Genesis in the connections Peter calls for.

The Spirit of God Moved Upon the Waters In your faith, virtue, Faith works in the darkness of what we cannot see. Virtue, in turn, involves a desire for moral excellence that has its origin in God. When the whole earth was dark and under water, the Spirit of God moved to replace the chaos with something good. Today, in our own darkness and confusion, God asks us to open our minds to a goodness that is better than anything we can presently see or imagine.

Let There Be Light In virtue, knowledge, When our hearts are ready for a new vision of goodness, Peter urges us to pursue knowledge. In context it is clear that he is referring to knowledge that has its source in Christ (vv. 1-3). His counsel resonates with the insight of another apostle who wrote, “The God who commanded light to shine out of darkness, . . . has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Corinthians 4:6).

Even if we cannot see into the darkness around us, the understanding we need to renew our thinking about God and others is found in the grace and truth of Christ.

Let There Be Boundaries In knowledge, self-control, In this context, self-control means to “hold in check” the natural desires that could otherwise control and consume us. In view are those self-centered urges that, if not “held back,” would leave no room for the good God wants to do in us. Peter’s counsel is in step with the first creation. After speaking light into the darkness, our Creator set boundaries for air, land, and sea. He separated the waters below from the clouds above. Then He held back the oceans to form sandy beaches and rocky coastlines. By a similar process He now calls for inner boundaries that will make room for the new thoughts and ways He is giving us.

Let There Be Seasons In self-control, perseverance, As God-given self-control enables us to “hold in” natural desire, patience makes it possible to “hold up” under the weight of ever-changing circumstances. Spirit-enabled perseverance, or endurance, allows God’s plan to unfold in His time. New ways of thinking form and deepen in the steadfast confidence that God will keep His promises. Here again there are echoes of the first creation. The God of eternity knew how much time He would use to do His work. By designing a complex, sustainable food chain, He anticipated the long-term needs of His creation. Then He hung the sun and the moon in the sky to rule over the ongoing, ever-changing cycles and seasons of time that would follow.

Let There Be Divine Likeness In perseverance, godliness, Through perseverance of faith, we learn to walk and think in new ways. Godliness is a fresh and flexible quality of life that honors and reflects the One who made us for Himself. The forming of such character and depth of personality parallels God’s purpose in creation. His whole creative process moved toward the moment when He breathed His own likeness into a lump of clay.

Let There Be Community In godliness, brotherly kindness, Brotherly kindness is the mutual affection of family love. It tracks back to the day our Creator said that it was not good for man to be alone. His intent has not changed. Although our personal relationship to Him is foundational to life, He knows that our thinking and hearts are not complete apart from relationship with others. From the beginning of time, our Father has wanted those who reflect His likeness to have the benefit of like-minded relationships.

Let There Be Love In brotherly kindness, love, This love is the ultimate in creative thinking. It involves a willingness to esteem others in a way that goes beyond the mutual affections of family love. It is rooted in the teaching and example of Jesus and, even before that, in the opening pages of Genesis. When our first parents turned their backs on their Creator, He did not return the insult. In the days that followed, He showed His willingness to seek the well-being even of those who had no regard for Him.

So what do you think? Are the connections real or imagined? Regardless of your answer, can we pray together:

On April 8, 1966, the cover of Time magazine asked in bold black letters, “Is God Dead?” The lead story described the work of several theologians who no longer held to traditional concepts of God. They were alike in concluding that the God of our fathers had not survived the dawn of evolution and birth control.

The debate that followed wasn’t as much about God as it was about us. We were in the middle of a turbulent decade. Our world was changing. An unpopular war in Vietnam was prompting bumper stickers that said, “Question Authority.” Science and technology were improving our lives and making us less aware of our need for a supernatural God.

Other Reasons to Believe God Is Dead

Challenges to the traditional view of God multiplied in the decades that followed. Not all were secular. Consumer fraud in religious broadcasting subjected the God of the Bible to public ridicule. Promises of “blessings for dollars” associated the name of Christ with “get rich quick” or “get thin fast” scams.

Most recently, evidence of clergy abuse surfaced in the public media. With these reports came stories of victims, who, because of their abuse, no longer considered the God of the church a live option.

Those enlightened by science or disillusioned by religious leaders, however, are not the only ones talking about the death of God.

The Bible Also Talks About the Death of God

The God of the Bible was so deeply moved by the harm people do to one another that He actually died because of it. At a moment in time, the eternal God closed His eyes and stopped breathing. Under the weight of wrongs that had hurt those who were dear to Him, His body fell limp and lifeless. At that moment God was dead, not just in the perception of others, but in real time and in an actual place.

In making this claim, the Bible goes far beyond the cover and pages of Time magazine. Instead of asking, “Is God Dead?” the theology of the Bible leaves us with a mystery that is beyond human comprehension (1 Timothy 3:16). The Second Person of a three-in-one God became a real man to die a real death for us (Philippians 2:5-11; John 1:1-3, 14).

As this unparalleled drama unfolds, physical death was not our God’s greatest sacrifice. Even before breathing His final breath on a Roman cross, He endured the hellish darkness of spiritual separation from His Father in heaven. As the skies darkened in the middle of the day, His anguished cry echoed through the halls of heaven and history: “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” (Matthew 27:46).

According to the Bible, our Creator endured such an agonizing death to show us that He is alive and that He loves us.

What the Death of God Tells Us About Ourselves

Those of us who are inclined to think of ourselves as victims, rather than offenders, might conclude that Christ’s death probably says more about the evil of others than about ourselves. We can always point to someone we think gave us an excuse to respond in an unloving way.

We get a different picture, however, when we look more closely into the suffering of Christ. If the Bible is right, He didn’t die just for someone else’s sins. He died for us (Romans 5:8; John 3:16). The pain He endured says volumes about the extreme nature of our own need (Romans 3:10-20).

Anyone who wants to be included in Christ’s death must admit that in God’s eyes our own wrongs rise to the level of those who violate federal law with capital offenses. The extent of His sacrifice says that without His intervention we would still be condemned lawbreakers, without hope, and waiting on “death row” for what the Bible calls “the second death” (Revelation 20:14; Romans 6:23).

How the Death of God Can Help Us Find a New Life

The Scriptures offer no hope to those who refuse to believe Christ suffered for them. The Bible offers a whole new life, however, to those who believe that Christ lived and died as their substitute. Like persons who enter a witness protection program, those who find refuge in Christ take on a new identity. Their troubled past is hidden in Him (Colossians 3:3). They assume His name. They receive His Spirit and become temples of the living God (1 Corinthians 3:16; 6:19).

Those who allow the Spirit of Christ to be seen in them are an antidote to the opinion that “God Is Dead.” Their happiness and tears become a quiet showcase for the love, and joy, and peace of a God who is alive and reaching out to others through His people. No one does this perfectly. But few things are needed more than imperfect, troubled, grateful people who are growing in their willingness to let Christ live His life through them (Romans 8:11).

How can we come to that surrender? We can begin by watching Jesus our Lord move through the Garden of Gethsemane to the center page of human history. On the way He groans, “Nevertheless, not My will but Yours be done.” Then in the middle of a howling mob, on a hill outside the walls of Jerusalem, He willingly endured the eternal weight of our sin and death, for us.

For fifty years, cartoonist Charles Schulz gave us pictures of ourselves wrapped in a smile. One of the last strips I clipped from our Sunday paper showed Snoopy the dog sitting on top of his doghouse with a typewriter, writing about his life. He titled his story…

The Dog Who Never Did Anything

Snoopy remembers it this way: “You stay home now,” they said, “and be a good dog.”

So he stayed home and was a good dog.

Then he decided to be an even better dog. So he barked at everyone who went by. And he even chased the neighbor’s cats.

“What’s happened to you?” they said. “You used to be such a good dog.”

So he stopped barking and chasing cats, and everyone said, “You’re a good dog.”

The moral, as Snoopy typed it, is: “Don’t do anything and you’ll be a good dog.”

As I turned the smile around in my mind, I noticed a quirk of the English language. Snoopy and God have something in common. They are related not only by alphabet (dog and god), but by what “creatures in the middle” expect of them. The idea intrigued me enough to try another version.

The God Who Never Did Anything

“You give me what I want now,” they said, “and be a good God.”

So He gave them what they wanted and He was a good God.

Then He decided to be an even better God. He started knocking over the furniture of other gods, and He used pain to help people in ways they could not understand.

“What’s happened to You?” they said. “You used to be such a good God.”

So He stopped knocking over the furniture of other gods, and He stopped using pain in ways that were beyond people’s ability to understand.

And everyone said, “You’re a good God.”

The moral, as angels might see it: “Stop acting like God and people will think You’re good.”

Many of us imagine God as we want Him to be. To our wishes, we add expectation. We expect Him to encourage us when we are afraid, to comfort us when we’re hurt, to forgive us when we fail, and to give us what we think we need when we think we need it.

Yet, along the way, we keep stumbling into the awareness that the King of Heaven is more apt to come to us in His own style, time, and mystery. He is seldom as we imagine Him to be. He is more like the God who reveals Himself in the pages of His own history. There He comes to us in the unexpected surprises of joy, in the unwanted nights of our misery, and in the solitary sounds of our own loneliness. He comes to us in the unexpected joys of Adam, in the numbed grief of Eve, in the inconsolable tears of the childless Hannah, in the murderous anger of Moses, and in the madness of a powerful Nebuchadnezzar.

But me? Until He responds, I’d rather have it my way. In the moments of my dissatisfaction, I don’t want to have to wait for what I want. I want it now. Now. I’ll pray. I’ll pay. I’ll bargain. I’ll crawl on my knees. But I want God to prove that He is good, right now.

The God Who Has Been Good

Even in our “maturity” we can be like two- and three-year-olds pulling at the pant leg of heaven. Our Father isn’t surprised. He knows how to raise physical, emotional, and spiritual toddlers. He knows how to run with us in our youth, and how to walk with us at seventy-four, eighty-four, and ninety-four.

And for those who go further, He is still there, hearing once again our whimpers in the night, and reaching down with the affection of an adoring mother who carefully lifts her children from their crib to herself.

Yet there is more that God gives us. He also entrusts His people with pain and disappointment. In difficult and troublesome times our Lord places in our care the kind of loss that gives us another way to show His supernatural presence in our lives.

The uncomfortable truth is that while good circumstances can be received and enjoyed to the honor of God, it is more likely that God’s grace will be noticed in those who trust Him in the middle of disappointment and hardship (2 Corinthians 4:7-11).

The apostle Paul would not have had a chance to make such a powerful statement with his life if he had been entrusted with only rich and comfortable circumstances. But because he followed Christ not only in moments of material affluence but also in many kinds of suffering and personal hardship, his losses help us define the potential of well-grounded faith and love. When we read of Paul’s willingness to endure separation from family and friends, shipwreck, stonings, beatings, and repeated whippings with thirty-nine lashes, we can be sure that he was not in the ministry for self-serving reasons. On many occasions he suffered a lack of clothing, food, strength, and health. On a daily basis he bore concern over the spiritual well-being of the people and churches he loved (2 Corinthians 4:7-12; 11:23-33).

Paul was entrusted with all of this pain. Through many difficulties, he showed his faith in the resurrected Christ. Through his weakness, and the resulting experience of the strength of God, every succeeding generation has been spiritually enriched (Philippians 4:11-13).

So too, Job was entrusted with pain and loss. Sarah and Hannah were given the tears of childlessness. Then there was Joseph. From a pit in Israel to a prison in Egypt, he used false accusations and imprisonment to show the world that God is in the shadows even in the darkest moments of our lives.

Does God trust us with such pain? No. He knows our inclinations. He knows that left to ourselves we would be unprofitable servants. Allowed to go our own way we are apt to let our disappointments result in bitterness and prayerlessness. Yet with a promise to never leave us, He entrusts us with challenges that give us a chance to trust Him in our tears as well as in our laughter.

Never can we bear the weight of what has been entrusted to us in our own strength. When we try, we crumble in defeat. Only by throwing ourselves on Him and only by trusting in His mercy and ability to save can we see the worst mistakes and problems turned around for the honor of God and for the good of all who come in contact with us.

No, He has not always been the kind of parent we wanted Him to be. Yes, He has been good on His terms rather than on ours. He has not answered our prayers in the way we asked. Seldom has He allowed anything to play out according to our own expectations or childish demands. Yet His determination to lead us in the paths of His own choosing is what has made Him so good.

The God Who Will Be Good

The promise of tomorrow comes with the wrinkled snapshots of yesterday. Even though our memories are not as sharp as we’d like them to be, and even though the happy times are mixed with regret, our albums contain memories of a God who keeps reminding us that He is better than our expectations. He is better than our demands. He is better than anything this life has to offer.

If He allowed a relationship to be lost, He stayed with us to remind us that we weren’t made for one another as much as we were made for Him. As our bodies give way to time, they become painful reminders that we were not made for these bodies. We were made for the One who said from the top of a thundering, burning mountain, to a people huddled in the middle of a life-threatening wilderness, “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage. You shall have no other gods before Me.”

This is the God who, because He is good, refuses to “stay home and do nothing.”

Does our Lord trust us? How could He? He tells us not to trust ourselves (Proverbs 3:5-7). For our own sake He urges us not to trust in our own knowledge, strength, relationships, or accomplishments. Nor are we to trust in one another (Psalm 118:8).

Our confidence is to be in Him alone.

Yet there is another side of the coin. The Scriptures make it clear that while God does not want us to trust ourselves, He does want us to entrust ourselves to one another as an expression of our confidence in Him (Proverbs 24:6; 2 Timothy 2:2; 1 Corinthians 12:13-27).

Even more important is what God Himself entrusts to us. He gives students to teachers, citizens to presidents, children to parents, church members to pastors, and workers to employers. He entrusts wives to husbands, neighbors to neighbors, and friends to friends.

Yet there is more. He has also given the earth to man, the gospel to His church, and His own name to all who have accepted His Son as their own personal Savior.

Together the gifts of God reflect the extent of our stewardship (1 Corinthians 4:1-2; Luke 19:11-27). Stewardship is the responsibility of caring for that which belongs to another. Such oversight is what the Bible has in view when it tells us about the gifts God has given to His people to be used for His honor. As a rule we think of these gifts as the good things God gives: money, abilities, life, time, health, relationships. These good gifts we know are entrusted to His people to be used for His purposes (James 1:5-20).

Yet there is more that God gives us. He also entrusts His people with pain and disappointment. In difficult and troublesome times our Lord places in our care the kind of loss that gives us another way to show His supernatural presence in our lives.

The uncomfortable truth is that while good circumstances can be received and enjoyed to the honor of God, it is more likely that God’s grace will be noticed in those who trust Him in the middle of disappointment and hardship (2 Corinthians 4:7-11).

The apostle Paul would not have had a chance to make such a powerful statement with his life if he had been entrusted with only rich and comfortable circumstances. But because he followed Christ not only in moments of material affluence but also in many kinds of suffering and personal hardship, his losses help us define the potential of well-grounded faith and love. When we read of Paul’s willingness to endure separation from family and friends, shipwreck, stonings, beatings, and repeated whippings with thirty-nine lashes, we can be sure that he was not in the ministry for self-serving reasons. On many occasions he suffered a lack of clothing, food, strength, and health. On a daily basis he bore concern over the spiritual well-being of the people and churches he loved (2 Corinthians 4:7-12; 11:23-33).

Paul was entrusted with all of this pain. Through many difficulties, he showed his faith in the resurrected Christ. Through his weakness, and the resulting experience of the strength of God, every succeeding generation has been spiritually enriched (Philippians 4:11-13).

So too, Job was entrusted with pain and loss. Sarah and Hannah were given the tears of childlessness. Then there was Joseph. From a pit in Israel to a prison in Egypt, he used false accusations and imprisonment to show the world that God is in the shadows even in the darkest moments of our lives.

Does God trust us with such pain? No. He knows our inclinations. He knows that left to ourselves we would be unprofitable servants. Allowed to go our own way we are apt to let our disappointments result in bitterness and prayerlessness. Yet with a promise to never leave us, He entrusts us with challenges that give us a chance to trust Him in our tears as well as in our laughter.

Never can we bear the weight of what has been entrusted to us in our own strength. When we try, we crumble in defeat. Only by throwing ourselves on Him and only by trusting in His mercy and ability to save can we see the worst mistakes and problems turned around for the honor of God and for the good of all who come in contact with us.