MANUAL FOR
LIVING IN
GOD'S WORLD
By Morris A. Inch
|
CONTENTS
The Religious Factor
The Social Factor
The Personal Factor
We have composed manuals to cover an exceedingly wide range of activities, but shied away from the most important–concerning life in God's world. In this regard, the psalmist reminds us: "The earth is the Lord's and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it" (24:1). Consequently, we are stewards of all we possess, and our own lives as well.
It is required of a steward that he or she be conscientious. As a result, not given to procrastination or other inhibiting vices. In graphic terms, once having put his hand to the plow, not turning back (cf. Luke 9:62).
Since the Scripture in its entirety and particulars is a faithful guide, it would be presumptive to offer a substitute. Instead, it is my intent to appropriate and expand on some of its more salient features.
Then, too, I take what might best be characterized as a pastoral approach. This invokes imagery of negotiating a rocky trail, reposing by a quiet stream, and partaking of lush flora. It also suggests taking care to provide security against preying beasts. All things considered, to provide guidance for the pilgrim's journey to the celestial city.
I mean to state things in as simple, straightforward manner as possible. This does not come by way of a disclaimer, since profound truths are more times than not uncomplicated. Along this line, the eminent theologian Karl Barth was asked: "What is the most profound religious conviction ever expressed?"
He did not hesitate for a moment, but replied: "Jesus loves me."
I intend to approach the topic in three connections. Not surprising, the first concerns the religious aspect of life. After that, I will turn to the social factor. Then, finally, to personal considerations. These cannot be neatly separated, as illustrated by the prophetic injunction: "Away with the noise of your songs! I will not let listen to the music of your harps. But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream!" (Amos 5:23-24).
There is one thing more. I do not visualize myself thundering from a mountainside at people stretched out below. Instead, I am admonishing myself first of all, and then those who might benefit from my reflections. So let the discussion commence.
God is; all else amounts to a footnote.
"For you are great and do marvelous deeds," the psalmist summarily concludes; "you alone are God" (86:10).
According to Irenaeus, "For with God there is nothing without purpose or due signification" (Against Heresies).
* * *
It is commonly assumed that a sense of awe lies at the heart of religious experience. The term implies amazement, bordering on reverence. Examples abound.
My wife and I, along with our children, made our way up the 5.2 mile Hunt Trail to the crest of Mount Katahdin–situated in Maine. The clouds were hanging low, giving the impression that we were nearer heaven than earth. The sun broke through the cloud cover at one point or another, as if to symbolize God's radiant presence.
On another occasion, I sat out under the stars. These appeared to provide a protective canopy overhead. I subsequently recalled a text from the Psalter: "When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him?" (Psa. 8:3-4).
At such times, I am often reminded of Stuart Hine's memorable lyrics:
O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder
Consider all the worlds they hands have made,
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed.
After that, the haunting refrain:
Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee:
How great thou art, how great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee:
How great thou art, how great thou art!
In a manner of speaking, I had made the religious connection. Not all do so, at least not consciously so. Scripture would seem to imply that humans are inherently religious. This leaves us with the options of worshiping the Living God, or idols of our own making. For instance,
Why do the nations say, "Where is their God?" Our God is in heaven; he
does whatever pleases him. But their idols are silver and gold, made by the
hands of men. They have mouths, but cannot speak; eyes, but cannot see;
they have ears, but cannot hear; noses, but they cannot smell; they have
hands, but cannot feel; feet, but they cannot walk; nor can they utter a
sound with their throats" (Psa. 115:1-7).
What, then, of the foolish person who alleges that there is no God (cf. Psa. 14:1)? This pertains to the practical atheist, one who behaves as if there were no Sovereign to whom he or she would have to give an account. Such qualifies as a portrait of folly.
The examples I have cited above might give the impression that religious experience is limited to peak experiences. This is emphatically not the case. There is a milder expression of the religious experience associated with the ordinary. It is much more common, and often reflects an awareness of God's loving care–or something less for the dogmatic secularist. I will let him speak for himself.
In particular, I often associate this milder form of religious experience with God's timing. It seems as if fortuitous events combine in such a creative fashion as to remind me of God's involvement. As C. S. Lewis observed, we are often initially surprised by the turn of events. It is characteristically in retrospect that they fit together into a coherent pattern.
Consequently, we ought not to depreciate little things. God often uses them to accomplish great purposes. According to conventional wisdom, "It is from a little acorn that the mighty oak tree grew."
"And what does the Lord require of you?" the prophet rhetorically inquires. "To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God" (Micah 6:8). As alternatively expressed, to practice the presence of God.
This does not come about in a haphazard manner, and benefits from a religious discipline. In particular, the recourse to Scripture, prayer, and doing good. As a matter of fact, devout believers report that from time to time they are not disposed to read Scripture or pray. At such times, Dietrich Bonhoeffer would make a point of doing so. He found that it would characteristically prove to be edifying.
On occasion, he would counsel indirection. Suppose that a person finds that his or her mind wanders during prayer. Instead of focusing on the problem, to the neglect of prayer, pray concerning the matter that comes to mind. In this manner, the prayer vigil continues unabated. One might imagine Satan withdrawing in disgust, having failed in his endeavor to frustrate the prayer warrior.
This, of course, assumes that one is properly motivated. Otherwise, the perfunctory repetition of religious exercises can prove spiritually counterproductive. As noted earlier occasion, "Away with the noise of your songs! I will not listen to the music of your harps. But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream!" (Amos 5:23-24).
"He who despises his neighbor sins, but blessed is he who is kind to the needy" (Prov. 14:22). As for the former, God appears remote or on occasion ominous. As for the latter, he seems compassionate and merciful.
All things considered, we turn to representative examples from Scripture. It came to pass that Jacob left Beersheba, and set out for Haran. When he reached a certain place, he stopped for the evening. Taking one of the stones, he propped up his head, and stretched out to sleep.
"He had a dream in which he saw a stairway resting on the earth, with its top reaching to heaven, and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it. There above it stood the Lord, and he said: 'I am the Lord; the God of your father Abraham and the God of Isaac'" (Gen. 28:12-13). After that, the Lord promised to give to the patriarch and his descendants the region in which he found himself.
When Jacob awoke from his sleep, he thought: "Surely the Lord is in this place, and I was not aware of it." He was afraid and exclaimed, "How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God; this is the gate of heaven."
The patriarch had made his way up from the Negev into the hill country, bound for the juncture at Beth-shean. Many have traveled that way before and since without experiencing anything even vaguely similar to that of the patriarch. One never knows when he or she may be overwhelmed with God's awesome presence.
Some suppose that the rock was a relic meant to induce a religious experience. There is nothing to validate this contention; moreover, Jacob allows that he was quite unaware of the Lord being present. It was only after his experience that he set up the rock as a memorial to what had transpired.
The portrait of Jacob up to this time was one of a conniving, selfish ingrate. However, from God's perspective he was a work in progress. This was the first of seven times that the Lord appeared to him (cf. 31:3, 13; 32:1-2, 24-30; 35:1, 9-13; 46:1-4). Consequently, this would appear to be a turning point in the patriarch's turbulent life.
The ladder, or flight of stairs, was familiar from Mesopotamian mythology. It is represented in the architecture of the ziggurats, and was constructed to provide the deity an access to the temple and town. Jacob would have been familiar with the symbolism, and assume that this constituted a portal from heaven above. This constitutes the first of three panels.
The second panel finds angels scurrying up and down the ladder. The Almighty observes what is taking place. The impression one gets is that this is a matter of considerable importance, not simply for Jacob but subsequent generations. In retrospect, this proves to be the case.
The third panel consists of God identifying himself, and concludes with his covenant promise. As for the former, I am the Lord, the God of your father Abraham and the God of Isaac. As for the latter, I will give you and your descendants the land on which you are lying. As for the interim, I will not leave you until I have done all that I have promised you.
One can readily imagine the narrative being told and retold to an appreciative audience. Thus a historical event was vicariously experienced. In a manner of speaking, they were there with the patriarch. As a result, God was sensed as being here with them. The awesome presence of God is thereby cultivated from one generation to the next.
Our focus abruptly shifts. In the year of King Uzziah's demise, the prophet Isaiah
saw the Lord seated on a throne, high and exalted, and the train of his robe
filled the temple. Above him were seraphs, each with six wings... . And
they were calling to one another: "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty;
the whole earth is full of his glory." At the sound of their voices the door-
posts and thresholds shook and the temple was filled with smoke (Isa.
6:1, 3-4).
The reign of Uzziah in Judah had been long and prosperous. Under such circumstances, it is tempting to attribute God's faithfulness to the regent. So it was that his death was calculated to create consternation. What would the future hold?
The seraphs are mentioned only in this context. They appear as heralds of God's holiness. The three-fold declaration serves to accent his unmitigated character. It was not something to be compromised with the passing of time, or changing conditions.
At the sound of their voices, the door-posts and thresholds shook, and the temple was filled with smoke. This, in addition, brings to mind an earlier instance when "The smoke billowed up from it (Mount Sinai) like the smoke from a furnace, the whole mountain trembled violently..." (Exod. 19:18). Whether in one connection or the another, these announce God's awesome approach.
"Woe to me!" Isaiah exclaimed. "I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the Lord Almighty." He thereby expresses sincere contrition. Blaise Pascal's pointedly observed that there are only two kinds of persons: the righteous who believe themselves sinners, and the sinners who believe themselves righteous.
Then one of the seraphs flew to the prophet with a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with tongs from the altar. "See," the seraph admonished, "this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away and your sin atoned for." No commentary would seem necessary.
Isaiah subsequently heard the voice of the Lord inquiring: "Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?"
"Here I am," the prophet readily responded. "Send me!" Worthy of note, he sets no conditions on his service.
While accepting Isaiah's offer, the Lord warns him that the people will not be disposed to heed his appeal. "For how long, O Lord?" he inquired.
"Until the cities lie ruined," the Lord replied. So it came to pass that Isaiah labored for some forty years among a calloused people.
The time came when Jerusalem was threatened with destruction. Isaiah interceded before the Lord for its deliverance. "I will defend the city and save it," the Lord relented, "for my sake and for the sake of David my servant!" (Isa. 37:36). After that, the angel of the Lord fought against the invaders, so that they were forced to withdraw.
Later on, Hezekiah became critically ill. The prophet went to him with a word from the Lord, "Put your house in order, because you are going to die; you will not recover" (38:1). Then the king pled his case before the Almighty. Again, Isaiah was given a message to deliver to the potentate. This assured him that he would recover, and live another fifteen years.
Isaiah subsequently anticipated a time when God's people would be comforted. "Every valley shall be raised up, every mountain and hill made low; the rough ground shall become level, the rugged places a plain," he declared. "And the glory of the Lord will be revealed, and all mankind together will see it. For the mouth of the Lord has spoken" (40:4-5).
While differing in detail, the two accounts exhibit a common theme. First and foremost, there is an awesome awareness of God's presence. He appears as exalted in his sovereign glory.
This awareness is sometimes more pronounced than others. Whereas it shouts for attention at times, it is more subtle for the most part. In more graphic terms, it is seldom accompanied by billows of smoke, but expresses itself in God's soft whisper (cf. 1 Kings 19:12).
The supporting cast is introduced in realistic terms. They are prone to waver, given to despair, and weary at day's end.
Sin proves to be the culprit. In brief, any lack of conformity to the will of God. It robs mankind of its God-given potential and enablement.
Some are more noble than others (cf. Acts 17:11). They seem to catch a glimpse of what they might be by God's grace. They are willing to turn over a new leaf, and walk by faith. "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. This is what the ancients were commended for" (Heb. 11:1-2). By faith Jacob made a covenant with God, supposing that God's promises were true. By faith Isaiah assumed his prophetic office, confident that God would sustain him in his demanding ministry.
Isaiah's experience is thought to be a classic expression of man's encounter with God. Initially, there is the vision of God. He is majestic in his spender. He has solicitous attendants anxious to carry out his instructions.
Words cannot do the vision justice. They are analogical. Mystery surrounds the Almighty, as if a garment of fine cloth.
There follows a painful sense of unworthiness. Isaiah depicts himself as a person of unclean lips, among a people of unclean lips. Confession is solicited, and rendered. The penitent has taken his only recourse to recovery.
There is purging. "Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean;" the psalmist declares, "wash me, and I will be whiter than snow" (51:7). Then subsequently, "Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me."
This eventuates in a disposition to serve. Not necessarily in the same capacity, but as God would have it. "Now the body is not made up of one part but of many," Paul reminds his readers. "God has arranged the parts of the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be" (1 Cor. 12:14, 18).
Not all are so favorably inclined. They resent God's intrusion, and question his motivation. They fashion idols, as projections of their own caprice. As Karl Barth observed, the sanctuary serves as the ultimate defense against revelation. It is a slippery slope that leads from rejection to destruction. Then, too, procrastination is a subtle form of rejection.
* * *
Discussion/reflection Questions
1. What is meant by making the religious connection? Consider the implications of success or failure in this regard.
2. Why were the prophets so adamant in their protest against idolatry? Reflect on the diverse forms that idolatry takes in today's world.
3. Religious mysticism is said to be expressed in two forms: extreme and mild. How does this distinction play out in the prior discussion?
4. What is implied by practicing the presence of God? Consider the means that serves this end, and the conditions under which they are effective. Reflect also on what is at stake.
5. Defer to Moses' encounter with the burning bush that was not consumed (cf.
Exod. 3) as an additional example of experiencing the awesome presence of God. What especially impresses you concerning this account?
6. Review the components of Isaiah's interaction with the Living God. How differently might he have responded at each state in the encounter, and with what calculated results?
7. Psalm 1 serves as a pointed expression of the two ways: that of the righteous and the wicked. As such, it provides not only an introduction to the Psalter, but a prominent biblical motif. What bearing has this on the discussion of the awesome presence of God?
Paul seems to revel in the realization: "For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith–and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God–not by works that no one can boast" (Eph. 2:8-9).
Ignatius consequently admonishes: "Let us not, therefore, be insensible to His kindness. For were He to reward us according to our works, we should cease to be" (Epistle to the Magnesians).
* * *
"John Newton, clerk, once an infidel and Libertine, a servant of slavers in Africa, was, by the grace of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, preserved, restored, pardoned, and appointed to preach the faith he had so long labored to destroy." These words were penned by Newton, and graced his tombstone. As expressed in one of our most beloved hymns,
Amazing grace! how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.
Note especially the time sequence. Once I was lost, but now I am found; was blind, but now I see. This echoes Paul's accent on being apart from Christ, and being found in Christ. The expression in Christ or its equivalent appears about 165 times in the Pauline epistles, testifying to its importance in the thinking of the apostle.
Even so, grace was not a late arrival. It was expressed in God's gracious provision of life in all its ramifications. In particular, it was an indispensable feature of God's covenant activity. Newton especially highlights this in terms of the new covenant–as a dramatic example of unmerited favor.
Common grace. All are recipients of God's blessing by virtue of our common humanity. "When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him?" (Psa. 8:3-4). Why should so inconsequential a creature be subject to God's solicitous concern?
The answer is not to be found in man's intrinsic worth, apart from God's disposition. The psalmist observes, "For the Lord is good and his love endures forever, his faithfulness continues through all generations" (100:5). Not from time to time, or with some and not others, but as a divine constant.
Count our common blessings. Initially, there is life! In and of itself, life is eminently good. However, to experience it as such, we must live according to God's ways. Otherwise, life loses its attraction.
"With long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation," God promises those of contrite heart (Psa. 91:16). Since life is good, long life is preferable. Then, too, one can hope to gain wisdom with the passing of years. Providing, that is, one puts his or her opportunities to good use.
Not only is life good in comprehensive terms, but in noted particulars. Feel the cool of the evening after a hot, stifling day. How good it is! It resembles God's benediction on what has transpired, in anticipation of what is yet to come.
Enjoy the company of a good friend. How good it is! One can feel free to speak candidly, and without fear of rejection. Moreover, to share some concern, confident of a sympathetic hearing.
Examples could readily be multiplied, but in summary: "Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows" (James 1:17). It is not as if cloud cover would intervene.
"Turn my eyes away from worthless things, preserve my life according to your word" (Psa. 119:37). The worthless things have no lasting value. Their appeal dims with eternity in view. Conversely, God's word readily passes the twin tests of time and eternity.
If by any other designation, common is coupled with saving grace. Such as Paul alluded to initially. After that, as elaborated by Ignatius and John Newton.
In context, prevenient grace is singled out for special consideration. It is in this manner that God enables a person to respond to his gracious invitation. Negatively considered, it does not preclude human cooperation. Man is not compelled to embrace God's gracious invitation. Broad is the way that leads to destruction, and many choose to travel that way (cf. Matt. 7:13).
Positively considered, prevenient grace cultivates our understanding. Spiritual things are spiritually discerned. So also it primes our inclination. This is by way of setting our affections on spiritual priorities. Then, finally, by encouraging a hearty response. As expressed by Jesus, taking up our cross and following him.
John Newton provides a welcome transition:
''Twas grace that taught my heart to fear;
And grace my fears relieved;
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed.
It was grace that taught his heart to fear. In more precise terms, prevenient grace. The term heart can sometimes be used as the seat of the emotions, but probably should be understood here as reflecting a comprehensive response. The term fear conveys the notion of reverence, which implies a drawing toward rather than a driving away.
After cultivating the fear of God, grace sets out to relieve one's fears. This takes the form of forgiveness and restoration. Forgiveness accents the setting aside of a former offense, whereas restoration conveys the idea of a new beginning. Thus grace manifests itself, and with the passing of time.
When it was suggested at the age of eighty-two that Newton retire, he resolutely responded: "My memory is nearly gone, but I remember two things: that I am a great sinner, and that Christ is a great Savior!" Consequently, it would appear that they made a great match.
It occurs to me that grace might be viewed differently from heaven's ramparts than from life here below. As for the former, grace appears intent on inhibiting evil and maximizing all that is good. According to Newton, this resulted in the realization of the folly of a life apart from God.
One can only imagine the torment of soul he may have felt as he listened to the moans of his human cargo as they were tossed about in the holds of slave ships. Some suppose that the notion of amazing grace originated in this context. In truth, he was as genuinely enslaved as others. This brings to mind the Jewish adage: "So long as any is enslaved, no one is free."
What would it take to turn life around? Whatever it would require, grace was instrumental. Nor would it leave the task incomplete. As confidently expressed by Newton:
The Lord has promised good to me,
His word my hope secure;
He will my shield and portion be
As long as life endures.
It does not always appear as such. Paul struggled with a thorn in his flesh, its nature unknown. Three times he pled with the Lord to have it taken from him. Instead, he received the promise: "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness" (2 Cor. 12:9). "Therefore," the apostle resolutely concluded, "I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me."
In short, the apostles' thorn had become a means of grace. After that, a means of blessing. Then, finally, as a means of realizing the Lord's power. All things considered, it constituted a rare opportunity.
Granted, this is not what we generally have in mind when referring to the means of grace. Baptism and communion are the more common referents. It is said that special promises are associated with these particular rites. These are not automatically conferred, but are conditional on the contrite disposition of the communicants.
Oscar Brooks aptly describes baptism as the drama of decision. In this manner, a persons declares that he or she intends to follow Jesus. Confident of God's grace, there will be no turning back. As sometimes expressed, "The cross behind me, and the crown before me."
In keeping with Brooks description of baptism, communion by be described as the drama of life together. Life with Christ, and one another. Any who comes to Christ, encounters community. It is a given.
This brings to mind a man of advanced years, who reported that he was the only Christian living in his village. As a result, he greatly cherished the few minutes we were able to spend with him. He would subsequently recall the corporate character of his faith through the reading of Scripture and other Christian literature. Meanwhile, there was always the prospect of other believers passing that way.
These (baptism and communion) might be viewed as religious rites of passage. Without them, we are disposed to lose our bearings. In more graphic terms, life begins to unravel as the sacred canopy dissolves.
In a more general sense, prayer would also qualify as a means of grace. Prayer can be defined as conversation with God. As such, it qualifies as dialogue rather than monologue.
Prayer may involve a variety of ingredients: petition, praise, confession, and more. It is conversational in that it seeks to bring us into harmony with God's gracious will for our lives. One ought not to settle for less.
In addition, prayer provides an occasion for us to intercede on behalf of others. Our family and our friends, our enemies, those for whom we are asked to pray, and persons who God brings to mind. Sometimes intercessory prayer will be exceedingly brief, and on other occasions extended. In any case, it needs to be experienced in order to be genuinely appreciated.
The reading of Scripture provides another likely means of grace. Two related images emerge. The first consists of a solitary individual, his or her Bible propped open. This appeals especially to those raised in the Protestant tradition. In this manner, one waits expectantly for the Lord to speak through his word, to refresh the soul, and energize his or her life for service.
The other brings to mind a congregation intently listening to the reading of Scripture, as it relates to the individual and the community of faith. While appealing to those of the Roman Catholic tradition, it is not limited to such. Neither the person's appropriation or group application is meant to exclude the other.
The sermon is associated with the reading from Scripture. It is not the occasion for the preacher to parade his erudition, nor browbeat his congregation. He is well advised to think of himself as sitting in the front pew–along with others assembled to hear what God would say to them.
A story is told of a newly ordained minister who was told that God would give him the words to speak. When he arrived at the sanctuary, he had as yet no indication of what God would have him say. As the service progressed, the heavens remained silent. When he could put it off no longer, the preacher made an incoherent effort to expound on a hastily selected text. As he was hastily retreating, God advised him: "Next time prepare!"
It is not only the preacher but congregation that needs to prepare for the exposition of Scripture. First, by a life of characteristic obedience. We learn in order to do. Likewise, we refine our knowledge in order to excel.
Then in anticipation of what might be revealed. This may entail some new insight. More often, it amounts to getting a better grasp on something already familiar to us. We do well to recall that truth is characteristically multi-faceted.
Worship qualifies as a more inclusive means of grace. It, in turn, is best thought of in terms of celebration. "Glorify the Lord with me," the psalmist encourages his associated; "let us exalt his name together" (34:3). According to the ascription, the psalm was meant to recall the instance when David feigned insanity to escape death or worse at the hands of Achish, king of Gath (cf. 1 Sam. 21:10-15). For this reason, to magnify God's deliverance.
Celebration is excessive when compared with the routine of life. It is calculated to over-do. It throws aside inhibitions. It is not the intent to promote self, but to glorify the Almighty.
Celebration is also affirmative. It amounts to saying yes to life. As Karl Barth observes, not in terms of some favorable set of circumstances, but in the belief that all things works together for good to those who love God and are called according to his purpose (cf. Rom. 8:28).
In retrospect, Newton confides:
Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come;
'Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.
As for dangers, Paul elaborates:
Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus one. Three
times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was ship-
wrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open sea, I have been constantly
on the move. I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits,
in danger at sea, and in danger from false brothers (2 Cor. 11:24-26).
As for toils, the apostle continues: "I have labored and toiled and have often gone without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and have often gone without food; I have been cold and naked. Besides everything else, I face daily the pressure of my concern for all the churches."
As for snares, God requires of an overseer: "He must also have a good reputation with outsiders, so that he will not fall into disgrace and into the devil's trap" (1 Tim. 3:7). The trap consists of falling into disfavor among the outsiders, and thus impeding the work of ministry.
Grace was more than adequate for all the above. Newton would allow for no exceptions. Then, by implication, for no excuses.
It remains for grace to lead him home. In this regard, Paul declares: "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will reward to me on that day–and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing" (2 Tim. 4:7-8).
In this connection, there comes to mind a text from the Psalter: "Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever" (23:6). The implied refrain throughout the psalm is I shall not want. Not in one situation or another; nor given any set of circumstances.
Goodness and mercy resemble two guard dogs, calculated to protect the flock from wild beasts. Then also to see that none of the animals stray off. They serve as a functional equivalent for grace.
As I recall the scene, the shepherd strides on ahead. So may we appreciate Dietrich Bonhoeffer's accent on costly grace. It is costly because we are meant to follow Jesus; it is grace since God provides the enablement.
This seems an appropriate point to introduce a benediction. "Peace to the brothers, and love with faith from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ," Paul earnestly enjoins. "Grace to all who love our Lord Jesus Christ with an undying love" (Eph. 6:23-24). Indeed!
* * *
Discussion/reflection Questions
1. Define the term grace. What does it tell us concerning God's character? In addition, how is it experienced?
2. Review John Newton's account of grace. In what respects might it compare or contrast with the experience of others?
3. Likewise, reflect on the apostle Paul's comments concerning grace. In particular, what bearing has this on his signature expression of being in Christ?
4. How may common grace be distinguished from saving grace? After that, fit prevenient grace into the mix.
5. How differently may the application of grace appear from above and from below? Illustrate from your own experience, and/or that of others.
6. Discuss the means of grace. Along this line, what do you make of the comment: "All life is a means of grace"?
7. Expand of Dietrich Bonhoeffer's notion of costly grace. What examples come to mind from the course of Christian history?
"Where can I go from your Spirit?" the psalmist rhetorically inquires. "Where can I flee from your presence? If I go to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast" (139:7-10).
Abraham Heschel succinctly observes, "All of human history as described in the Bible may be summarized in one phrase: God in search of man" (God In Search of Man).
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Old Red, as they used to call him, was well advanced in age. His crop of red hair had long since turned white. He lived alone in a dilapidated old house. There he awaited death to come calling.
Now Old Red knew the Bible about as well as anyone. He could rattle off chapter and verse with an uncanny ability, nurtured from childhood. He had never made a confession of faith, nor was he disposed to do so at this late stage in life. "It is too late," he would adamantly assure me.
His somber face still haunts me. Could it be that God had given up the chase? My thoughts turn to Francis Thompson's graphic text: The Hound of Heaven. He wrote at a time when it seemed that theism–belief in a personal deity–was becoming increasingly rare. He was of the opinion that the hunt would go on:
I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;
I fled Him, down the arches of the years;
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind; and in the midst of tears
I hid from Him...
From those strong Feet that followed, followed after.
But with unhurrying chase,
And unperturbed pace.
The Hound of Heaven eminently qualifies as a provocative metaphor. According to one appreciative reader, "It has remained riveted in my memory since I was introduced to the poem in High School." It is a sentiment shared by many.
As vividly described, The Hound of Heaven gives us no respite. We search for a place to hid, but to no avail. We become weary of the chase, while he continues unabated. The outcome seems assured. Either we must face him previous to or in the judgment.
Man initially enjoyed a privileged relationship with the Almighty. In this connection, he could eat of the produce of the garden, except from that of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. I take this to be a comprehensive idiom, such as from the east to the west. Then to eat of its fruit was tantamount to declaring his autonomy.
The temptation to play God proved to be too much for Adam and Eve. "Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves" (Gen. 3:7). In a culture where shame constitutes a fate worse than death, this was no incidental matter. They were driven to improvise.
Then they heard God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, when the sun had dipped toward the horizon. Rather than running to greet him, they hid themselves among the foliage. They hoped not to be detected.
After that, the Lord called out to them: "Where are you?" The chase had begun. It bears repeating, "I hid from Him... . From those strong Feet that followed, followed after."
The chase continued. The word of the Lord came to Jonah, saying: "Go to the great city of Nineveh and preach against it, because its wickedness has come up before me" (Jonah 1:2). Now Nineveh was the royal city of Assyria, known for its brutal treatment of subject people. The last thing Jonah wanted to do was to show the Assyrians mercy. Consequently, he ran away from God. He subsequently boarded a ship bound for Tarshish, to make good his escape.
Then the Lord stirred up a great storm, so that the ship was endangered. The sailors were afraid, and each cried out to his respective patron deity. Meanwhile, the prophet had gone below deck, and fallen into a deep sleep. The captain abruptly awoke him with the question: "How can you sleep? Get up and call on your God! Maybe he will take notice of us, and we will not perish." It was the pagan custom to touch all bases.
After that, the sailors cast lots to determine who was responsible for the calamity. The lot fell on Jonah., "Tell us," they demanded of him, "who is responsible for making all this trouble for us? What do you do? Where do you come from? What is your country? From what people are you?" This was less a deliberate interrogation than the frantic questioning of frightened seamen.
Jonah answered, "I am a Hebrew and I worship the Lord, the God of heaven, who made the sea and the land." If meant to assure them, it had the opposite effect. They were more terrified than before. The author parenthetically adds, "They knew he was running away from the Lord, because he had already told them so." Worthy of note, this is the third of four times we are pointedly told that Jonah was fleeing from the Lord.
So they asked him, "What should we do to you to make the sea calm down for us?"
"Pick me up and throw me into the sea," he replied, "and it will become calm. I know that it is my fault that this great storm has come upon you."
Instead, the seamen did their best to row back to land. But when the storm picked up, they cried out: "O Lord, please do not let us die for taking this man's life. Do not hold us accountable for killing an innocent man, for you, O Lord, have done as you pleased." Then they cast Jonah overboard, and the sea became calm.
The chase was not thus concluded. The Lord provided a great fish to swallow Jonah, and he was inside the fish three days and three nights.
From inside the fish, the reluctant prophet prayed for deliverance. Then the Lord commanded the fish, and it vomited him onto dry land. After that, the word of the Lord came to Jonah a second time: "Go to the great city of Nineveh and proclaim to it the message I give you" (3:2).
This time the prophet obeyed the Lord. Upon his arrival, Jonah proclaimed: "Forty days and Nineveh will be overturned." It was a proclamation meant to incite contrition. So it was that when God saw that they had turned from their evil ways, he had compassion on them.
Jonah's displeasure ripened into anger. "O Lord," he complained, "is this not what I said when I was still at home? This is why I was so quick to flee to Tarshish. I knew that you are a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity. Now, O Lord, take away my life, for it is better for me to die than to live."
"Have you any right to be angry?" the Lord inquired. No answer is recorded. It appears that the chase must go on.
Jonah went out and sat down at a place east of the city. There he made himself a shelter, and sat in its shade. Then the Lord made a vine to grow to ease the prophet's discomfort. Jonah was pleased with the fortuitous development.
But at dawn God caused a worm to chew on the vine, so that it withered. When the sun rose, he also sent a scorching east wind. Jonah despaired, concluding: "It would be better for me to die than to live."
God reprimanded him: "You have been concerned about his vine, though you did not tend it or make it grow. ...But Nineveh has more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell they right hand from their left (idiomatic for their lack of perception), and many cattle as well. Should I not be concerned about that great city?" In this manner, our attention drawn to Jonah's inconsistency.
Nothing more is said concerning the prophet. We are left to ponder the responsibility of the chosen people to be a light to the Gentiles (cf. Isa. 60:3). Short of that, the chase goes on.
God is expressly depicted as The Hound of Heaven. In this regard, we are reminded that the ways of heaven are obscure to humans. "As the heavens are higher than the earth," the Almighty declares, "so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts" (Isa. 55:9). Not simply because of our finite character, but our perversity. Failing to live by the light we have been given, the gloom of night increasingly engulfs us.
Conversely, God is disposed to reveal his way to those who earnestly seek his will. Sometimes we are allowed to see from a distance, and on other occasions only the next step. It is all the same: "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight" (Prov. 3:5-6).
Jesus admonished his disciples to pray, "Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven" (Matt. 6:10). It is a parallel construction, equating for all practical purposes the coming of the kingdom with the accomplishing of God's will. As the text implies, it is not something that man can accomplish on his own.
Neither is it something that God opts to do apart from man's cooperation. Initially, as concerns prayer. Then in terms of availability. All things considered, as enthusiastic accomplices.
The righteous are encouraged to set their affections on heavenly pursuits. Along this line, Jesus admonished his disciples: "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also" (Matt. 6:19-21).
Seldom do I read the above passage without recalling a story concerning the evangelist D. L. Moody. It seems that an affluent acquaintance invited him to survey his extensive property. "As far as you can see, it all belongs to me," he observed–waving his hand first in one direction and then another.
Moody pointed to the heavens, and solemnly inquired: "And how much do you own up there?" It was a question designed to solicit a time of soul searching.
The descriptive of heaven does not ignore the exigencies of life. Food, shelter, and the like. All that is a legitimate concern.
In this connection, God resembles a solicitous parent (cf. Matt. 7:9-11). It is not his intent to withhold anything that would be profitable. Instead, he delights in sharing the earth's bounty.
Likewise, of heaven accents the critical role of forgiveness. God is forgiving. "Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits," the psalmist aptly enthuses, "–who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion, who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's" (103:2-5).
Moreover, it is heaven's way that persons should be forgiving. So it is that we are to understand the prayer request: "Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors" (Matt. 6:11). Whether in this regard or some other, do to others as you would have them do to you (cf. Luke 6:31).
Then, too, it is not heaven's way to court temptation. It was for this reason that the rabbis admonished persons to build a fence around the Torah. Thus one would be disinclined to violate an precept.
So it was that on one occasion a rabbi asked me, "What is the problem with building a fence."
I had learned that on such occasions it was better to turn the question back to the questioner. "What is the problem with building a fence," I dutifully inquired.
"Nothing," he responded. "The problem concerns the worship of the fence." It was his intent to discourage legalism.
We can readily see that The Hound of Heaven provides a graphic metaphor concerning God in search of man, along with related factors. Especially as it concerns the realization of God's will, and then in representative instances–such as with our provision, forgiveness, and the avoidance of temptation. The facets could be greatly multiplied.
We are left with the portrait of man in breathless flight. As quoted earlier,
I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;
I fled Him, down the arches of the years;
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind... .
It may seem a novel experience at first, before we become accustomed to thinking in these terms. After that, we may be disposed to take it for granted–perhaps to our own detriment and that of others.
We are not living in a world where all roads converge. Instead, we live in a world where decisions impact on how we experience life from that point on. That is not to suggest that we cannot recover from a wrong decision, but it will be necessary to get back on the right road.
There are fundamentally only two ways that we may travel: that of the righteous and the wicked. The way of the righteous is singularly blessed. Those who persist in this way resemble "a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers" (Psa. 1:3). "Not so the wicked! They are like chaff that the wind blows away."
Thompson allows that the years take a toll.
My mangled youth lies dead beneath the heap.
My days have crackled and gone up in smoke,
Have puffed and burst as sun-starts on a stream.
The end comes much sooner than we would have imagined.
No less are we left with a portrait of God in determined pursuit. It seems at time we can feel his hot breath on our necks. If perchance it appears that we have escaped him, he shows up in some unexpected connection or unguarded moment.
"The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness," Peter pointedly assures his readers. "He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance" (2 Peter 3:9). If patient, he is no less persistent.
Moreover, God knows when additional time will serve no constructive purpose. In contrast, we cannot make this determination. Consequently, it remains for us to labor while there is still daylight.
My wife and I lived for four years in Jerusalem, overlooking the Hinnom Valley–from which Jesus derived his imagery concerning hell. It was here that persons cast away that which no longer served the purpose for which it was crafted. As expressed by C. S. Lewis, it constitutes the last a loving God provides for those who would accept nothing preferable.
God would wish us a better prospect. "Seek the Lord while he may be found; call on him while he is near," Isaiah urged his constituency. "Let the wicked forsake his way and the evil man his thoughts. Let him turn to the Lord, and he will have mercy on him, and to our God, for he will freely pardon" (55:6-7). Gladly capitulate to The Hound of Heaven.
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Discussion/reflection Questions
1. Some cultures appear more concerned with shame than blame. How might these alternatives play out in the biblical narratives?
2. What basic truth does The Hound of Heaven metaphor mean to convey? Consider other options that may come to mind, as for their strengths and weaknesses.
3. Review the plight of Adam and Eve after their