God is not afraid

I’ve learned a lot about life and people throughout the current pandemic, as I’m sure most of us have. But the one big thing that I keep noticing again and again is that fear invariably outworks itself in the form of control.

I’ve observed this in my own life before: the need to force all my unruly ducks into a row somehow because of my anxiety about some issue, or life in general. Over-exercising, under-eating, or rabidly purging belongings out of my house are some of the ways it shows—all of them poorly disguised attempts to control something.

I’m seeing it in just about all of us now.

In fear, some of us try to control the narrative we take in about the virus: we will only hear the parts that serve our desired and carefully curated point of view, and find ourselves “experts” or news articles to silence the rest.

In fear, some of us try to control the behavior of those around us: we will mock and shame people who are making different choices about social distancing than ourselves, or those who feel differently about the measures taken by our governing authorities.

In fear, some of us try to control our minute-by-minute experience of the extra time we have at home: we will keep to a rigorous schedule, strive after endless self-improvement, and attempt to force Covid-19 to serve our purposes.

All of these are understandable to me. It’s comforting to feel like we have the upper hand on our unseen threat. It’s comforting when other people’s choices align with our own. It’s comforting when the “experts” agree with us. In these we find a sense of security—albeit an artificial one.

And something else has become more understandable to me: The question, “Why would God let ____?”

I’m no stranger to this question; I’ve asked it plenty of times myself—but I have struggled to understand why it’s the question that so often stands between people and God. Those who reject God often seem to use some form of this question and its unsatisfactory answers as their justification for doing so. And it makes sense now.

Because if we were God, we would control everything we possibly could. Our basic state as human beings involves some level of fear. This, I believe, is the reason the Bible so often refers to us as sheep: not because we are fundamentally idiots, but because we are fundamentally terrified, knowing full well our own helplessness, and it leads us to make some fundamentally idiotic choices. So if we were God, we would have stomped down Satan before he even had a thought to rebel. We would have created compliant robots who would never dream of eating the forbidden fruit. We would have set ourselves up as the tyrannical dictators of an unthinking population—it is the only way we could avoid feeling threatened.

But God is not afraid.

God is not afraid, therefore God doesn’t have the same innate need to control that you and I do. He is not like us. In His basic state, He is utterly sufficient by Himself; the angelic legions could abandon Him and the entire world could reject Him and He is still enough. He is relational, yes, but He is also Three in One, so even His relational nature can be satisfied without us. He did not create anything because He needed a power trip—He created it all because He wanted to, and He has given His Creation the gift of choosing what they want, too.

Why would God let only some people be saved? Because only some people choose Him, and He is okay with that. God is not afraid.

Why would God let something bad happen to someone good? Because we don’t all live in robotic bubbles, unaffected by the hurtful choices of those around us or before us, and He is okay with that. God is not afraid.

Why would God let evil exist in the first place? Because He invites us to know Him for who He is—and an important part of His character is His omnipotence. His power isn’t threatened by any opposing force, even one that costs Him dearly. God is not afraid.

And would we want Him any other way? When we acknowledge our own powerlessness, it becomes all the more soothing to know that we have a God who is both utterly powerful and utterly fearless. He doesn’t need to squelch every little threat with overbearing pseudo-control because He has real power, and He is entirely unthreatened.

All of our little controlling behaviors in light of the current world are normal and understandable. But they’re also unnecessary and can become destructive. If our God is unafraid, what have we to fear? What threat does a different viewpoint or a flexible schedule or even a novel virus hold? Our treasure is not in the opinions of others or in the achievements of this world or in life itself—it’s in Him. And He’s not afraid.

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Want to learn more about who God is?

The best place to go is to the Word. The Bible is the story of who God is, and who God is changes everything for you and me.

To that end, I have a couple resources that may help you get started in your journey through the Bible:

• The Bible180 Challenge is an opportunity to read through the Bible in 180 days, according to a thorough chronological schedule. You get a day of rest each week as well as an email offering accountability, support, and the very best study resources I’ve found to help you understand what you read. You can also use the Bible180 Challenge Journal to help you focus, stay on track, and build good study habits!

• Bedrock: A Foundation for Independent Biblical Study is a comprehensive textbook/workbook that will teach you how to dig DEEP into each of the seven types of Biblical literature. It’s a great next step for anyone who feels ready to surpass the typical milk of sermons and Bible studies, and desires to learn how to serve themselves on the meat. Find it on Amazon.

the Lord will provide

Each time I read through the Bible, a different theme sticks out to me. In the past, it’s been the fearsome nature of God or the lasting pattern of Sabbath rest. It’s as if each time I travel from one end of this amazing tapestry to the other, a different color stands out against the rest, begging me to pause and see it and let it seep into me.

(This is one of the major reasons that I’m an advocate of reading through the Bible at a fast pace, and often. Learn more here.)

We are just beginning Leviticus in Bible180 2020, and the color that I can’t stop seeing woven through every scene and story and law so far is the color of God’s wildly generous grace. The deeper I wade into the story of the Bible with each passing day, the more this particular hue splashes over my understanding of every verse. Stories that I have read and studied for a lifetime have become new since I noticed, as if for the first time, the color of grace running through them.

One such story is one that I, admittedly, used to hate: Genesis 22, which my Bible titles, “The Offering of Isaac.”

Every interaction I’ve had with this chapter, whether in Sunday school or in a sermon or on my own, has left me with something like this as a key takeaway: WATCH OUT BECAUSE GOD IS GOING TO ASK YOU TO DO SOMETHING TERRIBLE AND IF YOU DON’T DO IT YOU’RE NOT A REAL CHRISTIAN!

I can still feel the fear and guilt sweeping over me from all the times, as a kid, I thought about what I would do if God asked me to literally sacrifice something I loved so much. I remember lying awake at night in tears of anxiety, afraid He would demand my sister or my parents or my horse. This story painted God as an cruel and unpredictable tyrant who could turn my life upside down on a whim, and if I protested, I’d go to hell.

What my painfully black-and-white child’s mind could not discern through the chaotic din of fear was that this is not a story about my performance under God’s tyranny, but about God’s wildly generous grace in the face of my lack.

God asked Abraham to offer his only son whom he loved, Isaac, as a burnt offering on Mount Moriah. Abraham rose early in the morning, packed the supplies, took his son, and obeyed. And yet when Isaac asks, “Where is the lamb for the burnt offering?” Abraham does not say, “You’re it.”

He says, “God will provide for Himself the lamb for the burnt offering, my son” (Genesis 22:8).

I have spent my life marveling at Abraham’s faith and courage to obey when the implications of that obedience were so heavy. I thought, “This is what it means to be a Christian—to be willing to do whatever it takes to make God happy.” I was wrong.

Abraham’s faith and courage don’t come from within himself, from a steel-willed determination to do whatever it takes. His faith is not set in his ability to pass the test. His faith rests, instead, in the generosity of God to provide for Abraham what he himself does not have to give: a lamb for the burnt offering.

This is what it means to be a Christian: to trust that God has provided for Himself the sacrifice that His holiness requires, because even the very best we have to give is not adequate.

Abraham was willing to give his only son, whom he loved—but God provided for Himself a ram in a thicket instead, a foreshadowing of the day when He would offer His Son, His only Son, whom He loves, for us.

Abraham called the name of that place The Lord Will Provide, as it is said to this day, “In the mount of the Lord it will be provided.”

Genesis 22:14

I have learned that following Jesus does sometimes test me beyond what I believe I can endure. But it is not a pass/fail examination to measure how well I perform and whether I deserve the name “Christian.” It is rather a testing by fire, as if of metal—it reveals what is in me, and purifies me of weaknesses. Christ took the ultimate pass/fail test when He generously drank the cup of death so that my standing before God need never fall into question again.

God is not an unpredictable tyrant, and that is exactly why Abraham could obey this unthinkable command. He already knew God’s promise to multiply Isaac into a great nation, so even as Abraham himself was being tested, his obedience counter-tested God to uphold His word. He knew God for who He is, and counted on Him to remain consistent with His character. It was never about Abraham’s special abilities or extra-strong faith or track record of obedience at all—it was always about who God is.

Wildly, generously gracious.

John Crist, Jesus Christ, and me, too

Tuesday morning I got an email I’d been waiting for: the pre-sale code to buy tickets for John Crist’s upcoming comedy tour in which he was finally spending a few days in the Pacific Northwest. Between my family and my in-laws, seven of us had plans to see him live. Within a few clicks I’d secured our tickets.

The next evening I got a completely unexpected email: “In an effort to focus on his health, John Crist has made the decision to postpone his 2020 tour dates.”

A quick Google search painted the rest of the picture for me.

I am heartbroken.

Heartbroken to hear of yet more women who were treated like playthings instead of people. Heartbroken to hear of yet another well-known Christian desecrating the name of Christ. Heartbroken to know that the world has more ammunition to hurl at the “hypocrites” that claim to follow Jesus, and heartbroken to know that so many Christians are simply feeding that ammunition into their hands by openly shaming a sinner while preaching grace.

If there’s one thing I know about the Church (and perhaps this could be broadened to Western culture on the whole) right now, it’s that there are acceptable sins and unacceptable sins. There are the sinners we shun and there are the sinners we seek. There are testimonies we don’t want to hear and salvation stories we’d rather silence because their content teeters toward what we consider “not okay.” Leave your sinful addictions out of it, please, until you’re completely cured - we don’t want to hear about how God is transforming you right now, it’s the finished product we care about!

But any of us who are being self-aware on this walk with Jesus know that there are no finished products this side of the Kingdom of Heaven. There are only ugly, clumsy, moment-by-moment transformations that happen with three steps forward and two steps back.

I am grieved over John Crist’s sin. But I am hopeful for the opportunity the Church has, right now, to paint a portrait of Jesus with her response. We have a choice at this crossroads: We can respond in bitter unforgiveness and total abandonment of this man and drive deep-seated shame even deeper into the watching men and women whose sins also fall under the category of “not okay,” or we can respond with the same love and grace we ourselves have received from Jesus through no merit of our own, and watch opportunities for true healing arise.

I know that we fear being seen as licentious, permissive, or dismissive of the evils that have been committed. I feel very deeply the responsibility to honor God’s holiness by taking sin seriously. But taking sin seriously does not have to mean shaming someone for what they’ve done. It is not shame that transforms people - it is forgiveness. Shame may, for a short time, inspire them to try harder to fight their sin, but Jesus didn’t come and die so that we could try harder; He came to utterly annihilate the power of sin and death on our behalf with the power of grace. There is now, therefore, NO CONDEMNATION for those who are in Christ Jesus.

One day, Jesus was dining in the home of a Pharisee named Simon - an upright and God-fearing man - when a disreputable woman came in off the streets of the city. She wasn’t invited - she wasn’t the kind of person this Pharisee would ever have wanted in his home, lest she defile his pure standing before God and render him ineligible to participate in Temple worship. But she had heard Jesus was there, and she wanted the opportunity to bless Him with a gift.

Simon could only look on in horror while this disgusting sinner defiled Jesus with her touch, her tears, her hair. The heavy scent of the perfume she used to anoint His feet couldn’t mask the odor of her sinfulness. This Man could hardly be a prophet, the Pharisee mused, or He would know this woman was a sinner.

Jesus answered Simon’s smug thought with a question: “A moneylender had two debtors: one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they were unable to repay, he graciously forgave them both. So which of them will love him more?”

Simon answered, “I suppose the one whom he forgave more.”

[Jesus] said to him, “You have judged correctly.” Turning toward the woman, He said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave Me no water for My feet, but she has wet My feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You gave me no kiss; but she, since the time I came in, has not ceased to kiss My feet. You did not anoint My head with oil, but she anointed My feet with perfume. For this reason I say to you, her sins, which are many, have been forgiven, for she loved much; but he who is forgiven little, the same loves little.” Then he said to her, “Your sins have been forgiven.” Those who were reclining at the table with Him began to say to themselves, “Who is this man who even forgives sins?” And He said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

Luke 7:43b-50

The woman in this story was unacceptable. Her many sins were on the list of “not okay” - they were the kind that made people not even want to associate with her, lest she taint them in the eyes of others or the standing of God. And yet it was not being shamed and avoided by the religious that transformed her; it was being loved and forgiven by Jesus. He responded to the holy aloofness of Simon the Pharisee with the rebuttal: “NO CONDEMNATION.”

No one took sin as seriously as Jesus: it cost Him everything. And yet no one consistently refused to shame sinners the way Jesus did, either.

When a shamed and sinful woman is offered the redemptive power of a gracious love, she transforms into a beautiful vessel of that gracious love toward others. And we have the opportunity to see this same transformation in the lives around us if only we will respond to brokenness like Jesus does.

If any of you are heartbroken by the news about John Crist, as I am, I beg you to consider a few things as you respond:

• Shame drives sin deeper into secret. When we publicly shame John Crist’s conduct, we do not solve the evil or prevent anyone else from struggling with the same sins - we simply communicate that if they ever dare to be honest, we will condemn and disown them. Their sins, instead of coming into the healing light of community and forgiveness, sink deeper into the dark where they can fester and grow. Do we want to see our brothers and sisters and selves transformed and made whole, or are we more comfortable sitting here in whitewashed tombs full of rot and death, as long as the outside looks nice?

• How you respond to this distant celebrity figure is training wheels for your response when the sinner is someone close to you. And one day, no matter how well-cushioned your Christian bubble, it WILL BE someone close to you. It’s very easy to drop a fallen celebrity like a hot potato and think nothing of it, but what about when it’s your child? Your sibling? Your spouse? Every person in your life is a sinner with ugly stuff in their past and present. Grace is something to start practicing NOW.

• Every testimony is a testimony-in-progress. Yours. Mine. John Crist’s. When we leap over one hurdle, another is only a few strides away. This race is life-long, and if we’re waiting for the finish line to celebrate God’s work, we’ll miss out on it completely! God is working NOW, in me, in you, and in John Crist. Testimonies don’t have to be wrapped up in bows with a “happily ever after” to be testimonies - and in fact, God’s magnificence usually shines brightest when we are at our smallest. If we are faithless, He remains faithful. That is a testimony.

• Remember what kind of characters make up the pages of your Bible. You need not think hard to find examples of many believers and instruments of God who had heinous sins on their record. We may be quick to throw John Crist under the bus and yet somehow manage to see men like Abraham (who sold his wife twice to save his own skin and raped his maid) and David (who abused his power in order to commit adultery with Bathsheba and then had her husband murdered to make himself look better) as heroes of the faith. The point is that no one is righteous. Were these crimes despicable? Yes. Were these men loved by God? Also yes. The same paradox is true for all of us, and this is the heart and soul of the Good News! We come with no goodness to recommend us and yet He loves us anyway, even to death.

None of this is to minimize or dismiss the pain that John Crist’s actions have inflicted. The human beings his sin has harmed matter deeply, and they too need to be received with love and care. Unfortunately, the harm done to these specific women is but one piece of what has been revealed to be a deep and far-reaching cultural wound. It touches all of us in some way, and so we cry out for God’s comfort and abundant grace.

Are you a woman who has been objectified, belittled, or used? Me, too.

Are you a person who has been disillusioned with religion because of the rampant hypocrisy you see? Me, too.

Are you a sinner who fears that not a soul would be left by your side if they “really knew”? Me, too.

Are you a Christian who has been let down by a person of faith you looked up to? Me, too.

Are you a broken human taking three steps forward and two steps back every day on a testimony-in-progress that sometimes seems like purposeless wilderness wanderings? Me, too.

Are you left with no one to hope in but Jesus, the One who already bought your victory and has declared NO CONDEMNATION over you? Me, too.