So, what was it like in heaven just before Jesus came to earth?
I picture a hatch; a mysterious trap door that's at the end of a long hall way, underneath the throne room. It's made of iron with a heavy wheel on the front that takes some muscle to crank - it hasn't been opened since the Garden.
Jesus is standing with the Father at the hatch. The voices of angelic choirs numbering in the thousands echo down the corridor like fans at a Super Bowl game. Their familiar anthems are full of sentiment. This is home. This is where Jesus is adored. Earth is nothing like heaven, although it should have been.
Jesus knows what earth will be like. He knows he'll be born on straw in a stall with animals. He knows his parents will be poor and oppressed by a cruel government. Jesus knows he'll have more reasons to cry than to laugh throughout his entire life. And he knows he'll be tortured to death.
This is his last chance to turn back.
Do you think, just maybe Jesus is sobbing, "Daddy, don't make me do it!" Or maybe the scene looks more more like a military exchange as the captain salutes the general. This is all about following orders, isn't it? Or maybe they both resolve that this is just the way things turned out and Jesus looks at the Father with a "let's get this thing over" gaze before opening the hatch.
Nope to all those scenarios. The real story is found in Song of Solomon 2:8.
"Listen! My Lover! Look! Here he comes, leaping across the mountains, bounding over the hills." That's a lot of exclamation points and they're there on purpose. God is excited ... really excited.
Have you ever tried sprinting up an elevated surface? It's not easy to do, let alone "leaping across a mountains"! (notice the plural emphasis) Even Jason Bourne couldn't do that without the help of cinematography. Could it be that Jesus was in a hurry to get to earth?
I think Jesus ran down to the hatch with the Father close behind. After giving him a quick kiss on the cheek he opened the door and said, "See ya later, Dad." This was not a moment of hesitation. This was THE moment they'd been waiting for and Jesus leapt to earth, bounding over the obstacles of spiritual resistance. This was a man with a mission.
What did earth possibly have to offer that heaven could not deliver? People. Weak, human beings that no one else would even consider significant. But God took notice because humans are like hobbits - simple-minded, imperfect and incredibly gullible. Heaven was grand but nothing came close to voluntary love from weak, human beings. This is what Jesus came for and he couldn't wait to get the show on the road.
The simple message of the Christmas story is "God wants me!" Even now, he's bounding over the hills for the chance to prove it to you.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Monday, December 1, 2008
Mirror, Mirror on the Wall
Have you ever wondered what Paul was thinking when he used a mirror as a metaphor? "Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known" (1 Corinthians 13:12).
I get the poor reflection part. Obviously, Paul was trying to make a point: humanity has limitations. As long as earth is the only reference point we have for life, we won't comprehend all there is to know about God. When we reach heaven, however, that's when "I shall know fully" - I'll have complete understanding of God. I can't wait! I can't wait to see Jesus; to put a face with the name I love. But how does a cloudy mirror describe my limited ability to see God? Wouldn't a window have been a better analogy?
When our house was built fifty years ago, the owner had these fancy, insulated windows installed. Each had four panels of glass. It worked well until the suction gave way over time. Moisture got trapped in between the panels creating a film that made visibility increasingly difficult. Isn't that what Paul meant to say? "Now we see God with poor visibility as one looking through a dirty window."
If I want to see a better view of God, why would I look into a mirror? Because I am one with Jesus.
In John 17, Jesus makes one primary request of the Father. "I have made you known to them and will continue to make you known in order that the love you have for me may be in them and that I myself may be in them" (John 17:26) This is his last will and testament, the summation of all he lived and died for: oneness. Jesus wanted to be one with you and me! He really wanted us to experience the same connection as he has with the Father. And God was pleased to honor his request. When the Father looks at me, he sees Jesus and when the Father looks at Jesus, he sees me. Gosh. I even have a hard time writing it; it just feels disrespectful. But this is exactly what Jesus wanted and this is what I live to understand.
The Song of Solomon helps me grasp the profound mysteries of God's love as well as his nature. Above all, it's a book about oneness. It's a book that holds out a mirror for me.
Any time I look into a mirror I expect to see my reflection. Not this one. This mirror on the wall happens to reflect the fairest among ten thousands. Right now it's such a poor reflection and I don't see Jesus very well. I often need faith to remind me that I am "in Christ," especially when there's so much evidence that I'm nothing like Jesus. But my weaknesses, no matter how big or small, do not change the reality of my position. I am now, one with Christ. Somehow, that just changes everything.
I get the poor reflection part. Obviously, Paul was trying to make a point: humanity has limitations. As long as earth is the only reference point we have for life, we won't comprehend all there is to know about God. When we reach heaven, however, that's when "I shall know fully" - I'll have complete understanding of God. I can't wait! I can't wait to see Jesus; to put a face with the name I love. But how does a cloudy mirror describe my limited ability to see God? Wouldn't a window have been a better analogy?
When our house was built fifty years ago, the owner had these fancy, insulated windows installed. Each had four panels of glass. It worked well until the suction gave way over time. Moisture got trapped in between the panels creating a film that made visibility increasingly difficult. Isn't that what Paul meant to say? "Now we see God with poor visibility as one looking through a dirty window."
If I want to see a better view of God, why would I look into a mirror? Because I am one with Jesus.
In John 17, Jesus makes one primary request of the Father. "I have made you known to them and will continue to make you known in order that the love you have for me may be in them and that I myself may be in them" (John 17:26) This is his last will and testament, the summation of all he lived and died for: oneness. Jesus wanted to be one with you and me! He really wanted us to experience the same connection as he has with the Father. And God was pleased to honor his request. When the Father looks at me, he sees Jesus and when the Father looks at Jesus, he sees me. Gosh. I even have a hard time writing it; it just feels disrespectful. But this is exactly what Jesus wanted and this is what I live to understand.
The Song of Solomon helps me grasp the profound mysteries of God's love as well as his nature. Above all, it's a book about oneness. It's a book that holds out a mirror for me.
Any time I look into a mirror I expect to see my reflection. Not this one. This mirror on the wall happens to reflect the fairest among ten thousands. Right now it's such a poor reflection and I don't see Jesus very well. I often need faith to remind me that I am "in Christ," especially when there's so much evidence that I'm nothing like Jesus. But my weaknesses, no matter how big or small, do not change the reality of my position. I am now, one with Christ. Somehow, that just changes everything.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
