God is good.
I have my theories about why it took me the better part of a third of a century to realize, but nonetheless it is true He is.
Not only is he good, He is also relentless.
Many times in my life I have misunderstood His passion for vengeance, His love for rebuke, and His pursuit for torment. God only knows one way – all the way – and for a throttled living being all the way is like going from zero to sixty in an instant.
Thrillingly frighteningly wonderfully horrifyingly painfully fast that leaves you both crying out for it to stop and praying it never will.
Acceleration is about the closest natural experience I can use to describe the nature of God when in contact with our world. I like to tell my friends that if we are praying for God to show up, there will be no doubt if He does. Grabbing hold of a live power line leaves no question in your mind if electricity has power. If you are lucky enough to live through the experience, one thing rings true, experiencing power is its own justification.
I don’t think God has ever “showed up” in my lifetime. If He did I am certain everything we know on this planet would be over. Instead, God uses His Spirit and that is what “shows up” which is really a good thing for us because God’s Spirit is a comforter.
I was thinking the other morning while I was walking in “our field” and contemplating the reality that God used to walk the earth. I was trying to imagine what that must have been like for the earth to have direct contact with God. In my mind I imagined trees and beasts and clouds and every living thing bending to be near Him. Like the grass striving to reach the sun, the whole earth would be alive with waves of movement as he strolled the garden talking with Adam, hanging on every word, in complete awe as each step fell on the skin of the earth sending shudders of power felt around the world.
And then it was over.
In a moment He was gone, and ever since the earth has been locked in groans of withdrawal pain and longing for His return.
Yea, my mornings are getting kind of interesting.
But here is where it gets really interesting for me. As I was trying to pull my brain around the concept of a force strong enough to hold gravity and light in a constant state for eternity and that same force being intimate enough to walk with man, God told me that He does walk the earth again.
He walks through us.
I am not sure what that means in the practical day to day, but I have been challenged to consider the ramifications.
What if growing in the presence of God will mean that His creation will start to respond to us? Can we release that back to the earth? I think we can and the thought of that is exhilarating.
Scripture tells us that all creation groans waiting for our redemption. I have heard it said that all creation groans for the return of the peace makers of God.
Looking at the world in the context of a creation divorced of its creator makes complete sense to the state we find nature in. Nature is locked in a profound battle of being cursed because of man and inexplicably drawn to man. It is both repulsed and attracted at the same time in a unendingly divine tension until our salvation when nature once again can feel the footsteps of God and see His face.
It is that tension that makes us have dominion over all created things. It is that tension that makes all created things want to destroy us.
I think Francis of Assisi understood this.
(reference: Wikipedia) Many of the stories that surround the life of St Francis deal with his love for animals.[21] Perhaps the most famous incident that illustrates the Saint’s humility towards nature is recounted in the ‘Fioretti’ (The “Little Flowers”), a collection of legends and folk-lore that sprang up after the Saint’s death. It is said that one day while Francis was traveling with some companions they happened upon a place in the road where birds filled the trees on either side. Francis told his companions to “wait for me while I go to preach to my sisters the birds”.[21] The birds surrounded him, drawn by the power of his voice, and not one of them flew away. Francis spoke to them:
My sister birds, you owe much to God, and you must always and in everyplace give praise to Him; for He has given you freedom to wing through the sky and He has clothed you…you neither sow nor reap, and God feeds you and gives you rivers and fountains for your thirst, and mountains and valleys for shelter, and tall trees for your nests. And although you neither know how to spin or weave, God dresses you and your children, for the Creator loves you greatly and He blesses you abundantly. Therefore… always seek to praise God.
Another legend from the Fioretti tells that in the city of Gubbio, where Francis lived for some time, was a wolf “terrifying and ferocious, who devoured men as well as animals”. Francis had compassion upon the townsfolk, and went up into the hills to find the wolf. Soon, fear of the animal had caused all his companions to flee, though the saint pressed on. When he found the wolf, he made the sign of the cross and commanded the wolf to come to him and hurt no one. Miraculously the wolf closed his jaws and lay down at the feet of St. Francis. “Brother Wolf, you do much harm in these parts and you have done great evil…” said Francis. “All these people accuse you and curse you…But brother wolf, I would like to make peace between you and the people.” Then Francis led the wolf into the town, and surrounded by startled citizens made a pact between them and the wolf. Because the wolf had “done evil out of hunger”, the townsfolk were to feed the wolf regularly, and in return, the wolf would no longer prey upon them or their flocks. In this manner Gubbio was freed from the menace of the predator. Francis, ever the lover of animals, even made a pact on behalf of the town dogs, that they would not bother the wolf again.
These legends exemplify the Franciscan mode of charity and poverty as well as the saint’s love of the natural world.[22] Part of his appreciation of the environment is expressed in his Canticle of the Sun, a poem written in Umbrian Italian in perhaps 1224 which expresses a love and appreciation of Brother Sun, Sister Moon, Mother Earth, Brother Fire, etc. and all of God’s creations personified in their fundamental forms. In “Canticle of the Creatures,” he wrote: “All praise to you, Oh Lord, for all these brother and sister creatures.”[3]
Francis’s attitude towards the natural world, while poetically expressed, was conventionally Christian.[4] He believed that the world was created good and beautiful by God but suffers a need for redemption because of the primordial sin of man. He preached to man and beast the universal ability and duty of all creatures to praise God (a common theme in the Psalms) and the duty of men to protect and enjoy nature as both the stewards of God’s creation and as creatures ourselves.[21]
Legend has it that St. Francis on his deathbed thanked his donkey for carrying and helping him throughout his life, and his donkey wept.
C.S. Lewis had a similar reverence for nature and the inherent attributes of God in it as well as our place in nature.
(reference: religion-online.org) According to Lewis, we learn more about God from Natural Law than from the universe in general, just as we discover more about people by listening to their conversations than by looking at the houses they build. Natural Law shows that the Being behind the universe is intensely interested in fair play, unselfishness, courage, good faith, honesty and truthfulness. However, Natural Law gives no grounds for assuming that God is soft or indulgent. Natural law obliges us to do the straight thing regardless of the pain, danger or difficulty involved. Natural Law is hard — “as hard as nails” (Mere Christianity, (p. 23).
I was talking with a friend Saturday during our Encounter weekend about his job. I will write more about the events of this past weekend soon, but as Rocky was sharing about the beauty of a wood door he was refinishing, I had a revelation.
We got to talking about wood, specifically burled walnut, and I turned to Rocky and said: “Rocky, all that beauty is on the inside of the tree!” We sat there for a moment trying to grasp that and a question rose up.
Why? Why was all that beauty hidden on the inside of the tree?
The earth was created for us, for man, it is for us to enjoy. The only conclusion we could come up with is that we are supposed to be able to see it.
The natural thought was sure we see it, we cut it down and rip it open and that is how we see it.
The thing is, I don’t think the original plan was to kill the tree in order to see the beauty growing inside it.
I wasn’t going to write about that today, but I think it will just have to do. 🙂