My God's Bigger Than Your God

Has God become so common He is no longer holy? Relational theology, our attempt at knowing and relating to God, has changed throughout the years. The change has come when people gravitate toward one aspect of God’s character more than the others. When you look at God through the wrong end of the telescope, instead of seeing the big picture you end up focused on limited features. In our eyes, God becomes less than who He really is.

 With the privilege of “knowing God” comes the task of not limiting Him to any one characteristic. I know that He is a loving God whose mercy endures forever. I know that He is a forgiving God who removes our sin as far as the east is from the west. I know that He is a faithful God who remains steadfast regardless of my own failings.

But to limit Him to any one of these, to make one characteristic the primary distinctive, I lose sight of the totality of who God is. He cannot be loving without being holy. He cannot be merciful without being just. He cannot be faithful without being sovereign. By picking a characteristic as “my favorite” I run the risk of offending rather than honoring God, by limiting His limitlessness.

You often hear Christians say they like the New Testament God more than the Old Testament God. In the New Testament God is loving, forgiving and actively pursuing a relationship with them. In the Old He is separating out the good from the bad, judging the actions of His people and punishing them accordingly. We see the New Testament God as being friendlier than the Old. We are drawn to friendliness.

But Hebrews says He is the same yesterday, today and forever. The Old Testament God is the same one in the New Testament and the New Testament God is the same one in the Old Testament. As difficult as it is to grasp, He was loving, merciful and faithful while at the same time holy enough to judge the actions of His people. Why can’t we see that? Why couldn’t the people back then see that? Perhaps it was the lack of understanding that it was because He loved them so much He was faithful to judge them. They failed to see that His intentions were good and right.

If we reverse the telescope and see the bigger picture we’ll see the God who desires relationship also has standards reflective of that relationship. Maybe the holiness by which He demonstrated His goodness is there for us to see. Maybe His actions were working all things together for good. And maybe the furnace by which He burned off the worldliness, was designed to purify not destroy.

Embrace God. All of God. Not just the parts that we like. Be assured there is more to God than we have yet discovered. By stopping too soon, or seeking only the parts we like, we may never discover how great He really is.

Down is Not the New Up

There is a downward spiral—like a plane losing control and tumbling to earth in ever tightening circles of despair—that catches us and hurries us into defeat. It begins with disappointment, a subtle regret that something didn’t work out as planned. If left unchecked the disappointment becomes discouragement. Discouragement is a gnawing agitation that stirs up thoughts of on-going disappointment. It is the regular reminder that what disappointed me will do it again.

Unchecked discouragement turns into disillusionment. All I can see is a distorted future of being disappointed continually. In my mind, I am in a tail-spin of disappointment and have no hope of pulling out. The downward spiral has captured me. Once captured I enter a dark and deep depression.

To change the analogy, I am disappointed I got a rock in my shoe. If I leave it there I will be come discouraged to take the next step, anticipating the pain. Failure to take the next step will paralyze me into refusing to go forward in my life. I will remain in a dark and deep depression.

Obviously, it is easier to stop the downward spiral from beginning than to pull out once gravity has gripped the plane. It is easier to deal with disappointment than discouragement and disillusionment.

Disappointment comes when I cease to give thanks in all things and become restless instead of contented in how God is accomplishing what concerns me. I may not like what goes on, but I do not have to absorb the dislike until it becomes a regret that grips my heart.

Let go of it and it will not pull you down.

Grady, Goober and Righteous Indignation

Pastor Jerguson had waxed eloquently for nearly twenty minutes on why it was okay for Jesus to get angry but not us. “It wasn’t that Jesus was mad,” he said, “it was just righteousness indignation.”

Righteous and indignation were two words Goober had never heard together in the same sentence. In fact, though he knew what the first meant, he had no clue about the second. His first thought was that Pastor Jerguson had meant to say was indigestion. But, then again, what would righteous indigestion be? Maybe indigestion you got after a church pot-luck?

“What’s righteous indigestion?” he whispered to Grady.

“Not indigestion,” Grady whispered back, “instigation, means He got so mad He did something about it.”

“Nah, I heard him say indigestion,” Goober replied a bit too loudly. Wanda Albright and little Jimmy turned around from the seat in front of them and shushed them rather loudly.

Pastor Jerguson looked over at Grady and Goober and made his eyebrows touch together. Grady poked Goober in the ribs and they both sat up straight, looking toward the front with a sudden inquisitive piousness on their faces. Pastor Jerguson continued.

“Righteous indignation is the only anger God allows,” he said. “It’s getting mad at the things God gets mad at.”

“See, I told you it was indigestion,” Goober whispered.

“He said indignation, you imbecile. God doesn’t get indigestion.”

“Don’t call me an imbecile, you moron.”

“Moron? I’m the moron? You’re an idiot moron.” As the tone and volume began to kick up a notch, Goober’s neck started turning red and Grady had started spitting his words, which were now splattering on Wanda Albrights bouffant. She turned around and shushed them again, adding an argh to emphasis her displeasure with the two of them.

Pastor Jerguson stopped and looked down at Goober and Grady. “Would you two like to take this outside? Now!” he shouted.

Grady and Goober got up and headed for the back door. “I think Pastor J’s pretty mad at us this time,” Grady said.

“Nah, I think Pastor J just got his righteousness indignated,” Goober replied.

Needless to say, Pastor Jerguson lost total control of his congregation as they burst into righteous laughter with him at the pulpit fuming and Grady and Goober walking down the aisle calling each other names.

Grady, Goober and The Night Before Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and Santa was crazy.

He’d left all his reindeer with Goober and Grady

He said just to keep them all happy and safe,

And they did, ‘til someone left open the gate.

When Santa came by to load up the sleigh,

Goober told him they’d all run away.

Grady said, “Santa, you don’t need not to worry.”

And off like a flash they went in a hurry.

“We’ll find some replacements for what we’ve done lost,

And I bet we can do it without any cost.”

So down to the river they went in a snap

And hoped that by midnight they’d find in their trap

Eight tiny reindeer stacked neatly as logs

But to their amazement were dumb feral hogs.

“Eight of them buggars,” Goober was happy to say.

Exactly what Santa would need for his sleigh.”

So back to the house they hauled off their prize

Then harnessed them up according to size.

“The fat ones should be back here in the rear,

 And let’s put the small ones further up there.”

The hogs were all squealing and making a fuss

Then Santa yelled out “Stop all this ruckus!

Now Earl, and now Floyd, and Leon and Claude

On Gertrude and Agnus and Wanda and Maude,

Get up and get going, let’s head to the skies.”


They grunted and groaned but nothing would rise.


Down the dirt road they drug the red sleigh,


Kicking up dust and rocks on the way.


Then Goober yelled out, “I think you’re too heavy.

Throw something out or you won’t clear the levy.”

To lighten the load, Santa threw off his sash,

But the weight was too much and they started to crash.

Grady and Goober just stood asking why.

But everyone knows that pigs can’t fly.

Compared to You...

We rarely give our best. Best requires effort beyond what anyone else would expect from us, even beyond what we expect from ourselves. All we expect from ourselves is to be better than bad. Bad is the unacceptable performance. Anything better than bad is good enough.

Problem is: the line we’ve drawn to indicate where bad begins isn’t fixed and is quite blurry. We’ve made it that way so we can always find a favorable point to make our comparisons. I may not be a good singer but as long as I find someone who is worse, then by comparison I’m better. If I’m better, then at least I’m not bad. I may not be good looking, but if I find someone less good looking then I am, I’m better. If I’m better, then at least I’m not bad.

Behavior is where we make the most comparisons. Forget for a minute that God has a standard of holiness held up to our lives, a standard that requires our best. Since I rarely give my best, I choose to ignore the standard and find another way to rate my life, usually other people. If I find someone whose actions are distasteful to me, then I have a great place to set the bar for my behavior. The things they are doing are things I wouldn’t do. And since I don’t do them, I’m better than they are.

If I do hold up God’s standard, I will typically place other’s behavior next to mine. If they are doing a worse job of it than I am, I’m better. If I’m better, then at least I’m not bad, so I must be okay.

I’m able to justify everything about my life through comparison to others. I don’t have to shoot for the best, just shoot for better than them. And even if I can’t find a way to be better than someone else, I can always accuse them of dishonesty or hypocrisy. One way or the other I’ll find a way to label myself as better. And if I’m better, then at least I’m not bad.

^{2CO 10:12} For we are not bold to class or compare ourselves with some of those who commend themselves; but when they measure themselves by themselves and compare themselves with themselves, they are without understanding.

Glad I’m Not God

If carrying all the responsibility of being God wasn’t hard enough, how about answering prayer? Take today: it’s raining. We need rain. We’re in a drought. How many people pray regularly for it to rain? But many don’t like to work in the rain. Many, like me, are home unable to work because of the rain. How many of them prayed it wouldn’t rain? What’s God to do? How does He choose which prayers to respond to and which ones to disregard?

Or, football games. You’ve got Christians on both teams praying to win. You’ve got fans in the stands or in front of a TV praying to win. Who gets God’s favor?

Or, a person with great dreams begging God for success? God’s got to look at much more than desire to determine if what they are asking is best. What if my idea of success ruins another person’s life? Or, gets in the way of future plans God has for me? Or, turns me into the kind of person I don’t want to be? What if my plans aren’t God’s plans?

Isaiah wrote: “For My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways,” declares the LORD. “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts.”

That’s why I don’t always get what I ask for. My thoughts don’t come up to the level of God’s thoughts and my ways are far inferior to His ways. Not only do I not have the perspective He has, I don’t know what’s best in every situation. He does.

If I throw up to Him a list of preferences and desires, He sorts through them with greater patience and understanding than I used to create them. Much of my praying is impulsive. I have no idea what I’m really asking for. Fortunately God isn’t obligated to me to do what I ask. He loves me too much. He is obligated to do what’s best. That’s His promise—working things out for good—accomplishing good as He determines it.

I may pray for someone’s healing when God’s ready to take them home. I may ask for comfort when discomfort will accomplish a greater purpose. I may beg for mercy when justice is God’s intention. Not that it’s wrong to ask, only wrong to assume God is being unfaithful if His answer doesn’t match what we asked for.

So, when it comes to praying, I’ll continue to ask but I trust God will answer, not according to what I’m asking for, but according to what He knows is best.

You Need to Use a Template

When I’m woodworking and need to duplicate several pieces, I often make a template. It represents the standard that I wish to use as a pattern for how each piece should look. It makes reproduction a whole lot easier.

 

Occasionally I need a piece to fit into a particular space. Instead of risking messing up that piece, I’ll get a scrap board and work it down to the right size. It then becomes my template.

Cutting crown molding can get confusing. You have to think upside down and backwards. To minimize the brain drain I’ve made templates of inside and outside cuts so all I have to do is match my blade to how I need the cut to go. They are my templates.

 

Templates are not essential but very useful when you need to hold to a standard.

 

When I read Scripture, I find quite a few commands that bring me to a certain response. That response is a standard God has set for how my life needs to be lived. But more than just tell me how to act, He has provided me with examples of men and women who have lived out the response He is expecting. They aren’t the standard but rather are a template to which I might adjust my actions.

 

If I need to test my faith, I might place my actions next to Abraham’s. Have I abandoned my trust to God as strongly as he did? If I need to test my obedience, I might place my actions next to Moses. Am I committed to follow God at all costs? If I need to test my worship, I might place my actions next to David. Do I wear my devotion like a linen ephod as I dance before Him? If I need to test my proximity to God’s intentions, I might place my actions next to the Prodigal Son. Am I wandering or resting at home with the Father? If I need to test my vision, I might place my actions next to Paul. Am I intent on following God through the doors He has opened? If I need to test my heart, I might place my actions next to John, Mark, Ruth, Samuel, Saul, Daniel, Shadrack, Meshack, Abednigo, Rahab, Deborah, Samson, Mary, Martha, Nichodemus, Mary Magdaline, or a hundred other templates God placed in the story to help us flesh out what it means to walk with Him.

I don’t have to make up the agenda. I don’t have to recreate the wheel each time I need a circle. I need to read the story with an open heart to see how God worked with people throughout the book. Since He’s the same God and works in the same way, maybe I can learn from their lives how to bring my life closer to the pattern He expects from His children.

Who is your template?