Wisdom from Mrs. Manoah (Judges 13)

Posted on by Crystal Rodli
4

I appreciate this Judges 13 conversation between Samson’s parents.

22 So Manoah said to his wife, “We will surely die, for we have seen God.” 23 But his wife said to him, ”If the LORD had desired to kill us, He would not have accepted a burnt offering and a grain offering from our hands, nor would He have shown us all these things, nor would He have let us hear things like this at this time.”

First of all, I enjoy the fact that this very sensible rebuttal is coming from the wife. I don’t have especially feminist leanings, but this exchange does feel vindicating in light of some less flattering episodes like the ugly, emotional outburst of Job’s wife.

Interesting that the very next thing scripture records is,

24 Then the woman gave birth to a son…

If then indicates immediacy here, I’ll be forced to abandon my gloating, and admit that Manoah’s wife was simply an exceptional woman. No normal woman is this rational or this optimistic in the moments before she brings a child into the world via natural childbirth.

I don’t think my bubble is burst though—this exchange between Samson’s folks occurred just a few days after the initial announcement to Mrs. Manoah that she would soon conceive. I’ll go out on a limb and say that the birth occurred some time later.

Truly though, I enjoyed this speech before I took any particular notice of whose mouth it came out of.

I periodically go through seasons where purpose and joy are noticeably lacking from my daily endeavors. It’s not utter hopelessness or depression. It’s more like the angel on my shoulder has been talking to Eeyore. A subtle fog of pessimistic insecurity permeates my thoughts, leaving me disjointed, tired, and apathetic. I know that something is wrong, and I can will myself to shake it off temporarily, but it refuses to go away entirely.

This could be a Satanic assault on my thought life. Or it could just be a case good ol’ discouragement, resulting from my obvious inadequacies. I really don’t know. But, in either case, somewhere in the back of my mind, I imagine that God is zeroed in on all my failures, shaking his head in unsurprised disappointment—as I do it again.

This is where Samson’s mom comes in handy.

She says to her husband,

Why would God show up us and tell us of all these marvelous things if his intention was just to kill us?

Makes good sense.

Is God disappointed when I sin? Of course. I would be disappointed if he wasn’t.  But is he resentfully resigned to my failures, with no recourse but to wait around for the next inevitable manifestation of my suckiness?

After he made me in his image? After his sacrifice on the cross? After giving me the grace to stand, to fight, to be who I was made to be? After all the ways he has revealed his heart to me? After proving to me at many times and in many ways that I’m his beautiful little girl whom he adores? After holding me, protecting me, and prospering me? After investing in me and helping me to grow all these years?—

Do I really think his intention is to passively disapprove while I flounder?

That makes no sense.

Mrs. Manoah would be ashamed.

Wetter Water (Or Truth and Lies)

Posted on by Crystal Rodli
4

A few months ago, I had the opportunity to taste some exceptionally “wet” water. At least that’s what I was told. My friends pulled a bottle out of the fridge, poured me a glass, and watched as I took one tentative sip…and then another. Their eyes lit up with eager anticipation as they awaited my verdict.

I don’t know if this was a case of the Emperor’s new clothes, or if (as is quite likely) my friends, who have far more more knowledge and discernment in such matters,  were detecting subtleties in the Alkaline ion water that I was not. Whatever the case, I began to feel very conspicuous. I willed my mouth to taste the extra wetness of the water, but it just felt like water.

And as their eyes continued to probe my face questioningly, I was sorely tempted to lie. Not necessarily an “outright” lie—just a few words carefully selected for their ambiguity, that would give the impression that I was enjoying the superior qualities of this particular water.

Mmmm…yeah…I think I might notice something a little different about this water…

The last thing I wanted was to insult my very good friends, or come across as a snob.

But, the truth was, I noticed nothing. And in the end, I made my confession. It was clothed in apologetic qualifiers, but it was the truth—I was unable to detect anything different about this water than any other filtered water I’ve tasted. 

That time I triumphed—but sadly this is in contrast with the many other times that I have failed and taken the cheap way out.

We all have that one temptation that plays to our personality and shouts at us a little (or a lot) louder than the others. I think this is mine: compromising my character for the sake of avoiding conflict or losing the approval of others.

In situations where I think I might ‘be in trouble’ for my actions, disappoint someone, or appear flawed in a manner that I am not comfortable with, I am very tempted to cast, color, distort, or slant the truth in order to preserve my reputation and avoid tension. And if I feel especially cornered and the relational stakes seem high—I might just be tempted to utter a blatant falsehood.

This inclination is no kind of excuse for accommodating such wimpy, sinful behavior.

In fact, knowing this about myself should cause me to be on guard and take action—to pray for help, to determine to fight, to decide ahead of time to own up and be brave. I can avoid doing things I wouldn’t want to confess, but that only goes so far. There are just gonna be things I do that other people don’t like (right or wrong), and there’s also gonna be plenty of times when I just plain old mess up and do the wrong thing. I need to be able to call it what it is (even when unexpectedly cornered), repent and move on.

Jim Carrey in the movie "Liar, Liar"

Any other course only confirms dishonesty (however masked and justified) as more and more a part of who I am. I don’t want that. I want to be like my Father in heaven, and he does not speak lies (Titus 1:2, Heb 6:18). We all know who does…(John 8:44, Acts 5:3)

So, in my case, I’ve no doubt that what I’m doing is wrong. I am not trying to be wise or diplomatic for the sake of some great good. I’m practicing deceit in order to ‘protect’ myself.

But it does seem that Christians find ‘lying’ to be a concept that has some grey around the edges. Over the years, I’ve observed otherwise  descent and devout Christian folks practicing forms of business, leadership, and relational maneuvering that could easily be categorized as intentional deceit. The preferred label, however, is ‘wisdom’—and it is sometimes defended by these familiar words of Jesus,

Matthew 10:16 (NASB)
16 “Behold, I send you out as sheep in the midst of wolves; so be shrewd as serpents and innocent as doves.

The word translated “shrewd” here is phronimos, and according to the NAS New Testament Greek Lexicon, it’s range of  meaning is intelligent, wise, prudent, mindful of one’s interests.

Given the Bible’s uncategorical condemnation of deceit and lies, what do you make of this? What does Jesus mean by being “shrewd” and how does this translate into our lives? Does this indicate that some form of deceit is sometimes justifiable for some ends—whether in ministry, business, or personal affairs? Or what is the difference between shrewdness and deceit?

How Exactly Does One Grow in Grace?

Posted on by Crystal Rodli
Reply

GRACE

An accurate, common definition describes grace as the unmerited favor of God toward man.  ~Baker’s Evangelical Dictionary of Biblical Theology

It is true that, in a very general sense, all favor from God toward man is unmerited. The fact that we exist at all is unmerited favor. We did nothing to motivate God to create us, and any subsequent favor directed toward us is only possible because he gave us life in the first place. It is also true, as I previously mentioned, that grace / favor in the form of our ability to be reconciled to God through Christ’s atoning death is absolutely unmerited—and freely offered to all. And, finally, there are many times that God’s favor is manifest in a person or circumstance that is wholly undeserving.

So why am I splitting hairs over a definition that sounds like it’s mostly right?

Ask Peter.

…but grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. 2 Pet. 3:18

How does one grow in unmerited favor?

They don’t. If we understand grace to mean unmerited favor, is impossible to carry this out. This command becomes nonsense. We cannot grow in something if our initiative has no bearing on it’s measure.

But Peter seems to think it is quite possible. And that’s because grace (charis)  just means…favor. 

So how do we grow in favor with God, and what does that mean?

Well, how would we grow in favor with anyone else?

We catch their eye in one way or another. We do the things that please them. We invest in their cause. We show ourselves to be faithful, loyal, courageous, honest.

And the favor shown to us can take many forms. Our benefactor might begin to confide in us, revealing more of his or her heart, plans, desires. He or she may offer us more responsibility, more opportunities—or maybe just invest in us in some special way. And as we continue to be faithful in this level of favor, more is given. And so it grows…

Unless someone shows me otherwise, I have to assume that Peter (or for that matter, God), who chose to use the word charis, intended it’s usual meaning. We grow in the grace / favor of God, through the faithful exercise of the measure we’ve been given. When we do this, we are tried and trustworthy to be given more.

Now all of a sudden, the injunction to grow in grace is exciting and motivating. It means something. I can act. I can catch God’s eye as someone who’s about his business. Someone he can share his heart with. Someone he will be able to use for his glory to a greater and greater degree.

21 “His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant. You were faithful with a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’       Matt 25:21

God’s Keepsakes?

Posted on by Crystal Rodli
11

In chapter 13 of his book, Heaven, Randy Alcorn makes an interesting case for the possible future restoration of man-made objects from throughout human history. The exegetical evidence includes passages concerning the testing of believers’ works  (1 Cor. 13:12-15) and the eternal value of good deeds (Rev 14:13), together with the linguistic implications of a particular prayer of Moses (Psalm 90:17). I didn’t find any of this terribly compelling, but neither do I think he meant it to be conclusive.

The more I consider it, however, the more I find some of his logical/imaginative case pretty intriguing.

Alcorn points out the the earth will be renewed, and bodies will be resurrected, and that these are both physical things that God made and values. Mightn’t he then also resurrect and restore man-made objects that particularly touched his heart, spoke of a special relationship, or commemorated an important event?

Let’s use our biblically informed imaginations. Could a child’s story written out of love for Jesus survive this world, either in Heaven’s handwriting or the child’s own? Might certain works of art, literature, and music survive either literally (on the canvas and paper they were written on) or at least be re-created in Heaven? Obviously we can’t be certain, but isn’t the idea consistent with what we’ve seen of the nature of resurrection?

…Are they not as much a part of God’s “very good” creation as our bodies, and animals, lakes, and trees? What about the things we made to God’s glory? Could these be resurrected or reassembled?  (Alcorn, pg. 129)

Old Testament altars and stones of commemoration come to mind here. Could some of these be part of the landscape of the new earth? Will God decorate the eternal home he intends to share with us with sentimental objects that hold great meaning for him and for us?

For years Jesse (dear husband) has used the illustration of refrigerator art to describe God’s regard for our acts of love, worship, and service toward him. God likely cherishes our offerings the same way I cherish and display a badly distorted stick figure offered to me by one of my children. The result of the child’s earnest effort isn’t all that remarkable in and of itself, yet the drawing  is sweet, beautiful, and precious because of the heart it represents.

I am used to thinking of my efforts this way, and it is helpful when (as is all too often the case) I find their outcome to be a little on the pathetic side.

I am also used to thinking about the permanence of my deeds, in the sense that what I choose to do (or not do) in the present has eternal ramifications.

But Alcorn’s hint at the possible literal resurrection of select inanimate objects has added a new dimension to my meditations on eternal value.

I found immediate application to the words I write on this blog.

I am newly challenged to write with such purity and integrity of motive, such passion for God, and such genuine love for readers, that my written words would be the sort of thing God would be pleased and touched to display as precious expression of my heart for him—that they could be written somewhere in heaven as a physical, eternal commemoration of the love between us.

Whether or not God will do such a thing isn’t all that important (though it is a cool and interesting thought). It’s just a good way to approach the things I put my hands to.

Am I giving my heart to this in a way that the product might be meaningful to God—as a keepsake that speaks of our relationship?

As I craft this misshapen stick-figure, is it with great care as a gift of love for my Father, or is it a hasty scribble I made with little thought for him at all?

Daddy sees my heart. Who knows what he might want to hang on to…

What is grace? (Part 3)

Posted on by Crystal Rodli
3

I’ve been very bold in asserting what grace is (and isn’t)—and it’s all made such very good sense to me. :) However, I think it may be time to test my claims by plugging our practical definition of grace (God-given ability to fulfill God’s good intentions for our lives), back into the biblical texts to see if it fits. Let’s start with a little something from 1 Corinthians 15.

 But by the grace of God I am what I am, and His grace toward me did not prove vain ; but I labored even more than all of them, yet not I, but the grace of God with me. 1 Corinthians 15:10 NAS

No doubt you noticed that Paul’s statement in this passage is very similar to the fictional one I criticized in parts 1 & 2 of this series.

Image Credit: Louish Pixel (Flickr)

I’ve included these words of Paul here for a couple of reasons: (1) Because I think it is the only honest thing to do, and (2) because I’m proud, and I was afraid that I may have given the impression that I think it is inconsistent to verbally acknowledge the role of God’s grace in some circumstances—if we aren’t doing so in every circumstance, all the time .

I’d like to go on record saying, that would just be silly.

My purpose in making use of that familiar, based-on-a-true-story-illustration was only to express a suspicion that such exchanges often reveal a warped understanding of grace—namely a relegation of God’s grace to the realm of the mysteriously intangible, and a disassociation between the effects of grace and our own choices and efforts,  .

But isn’t a mysterious disassociation pretty much what Paul is communicating in the Corinthians passage?

 …I labored even more than all of them, yet not I, but the grace of God with me

I don’t think so. Here’s why:  Even in this statement where Paul is highlighting the preeminence of grace in his labors for the gospel, he also implies that it is quite possible for grace to be unfruitful in his life.

 …and His grace toward me did not prove vain

Maybe he is merely stating the obvious. You know—for the sake of emphasis. Maybe he’s saying that God’s grace toward him did not prove vain…because, duh, it can’t.

I might be able to entertain that possibility were it not for a couple of other verses that make Paul’s position on this matter very clear.

2 Corinthians 6:1 NAS      And working together with Him, we also urge you not to receive the grace of God in vain -

Acts 13:43 NAS     Now when the meeting of the synagogue had broken up, many of the Jews and of the God-fearing proselytes followed Paul and Barnabas, who, speaking to them, were urging them to continue in the grace of God.

Why would he urge folks to continue making good use of God’s investment of grace, if it wasn’t possible for them to do anything else—if grace independently brought about its own will?

So, when Paul says “not I, but the grace of God with me,” I have to conclude that he is most definitely not denying the necessity and importance of his own faithful labors. Rather, he is recognizing the grace of God as the essential and prerequisite ingredient in all that he does.

So, does our definition of Biblical grace fit into the above passages?

Well, try it. Just substitute God-given ability to fulfill God’s intentions wherever the text reads, grace (of God).

When you’re done with that, here’s a few more to try:

Luke 2:40 NAS     The Child continued to grow and become strong, increasing in wisdom ; and the grace of God was upon Him.

Acts 4:33 NAS     And with great power the apostles were giving testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and abundant grace was upon them all.

Romans 1:5 NAS     …through whom we have received grace and apostleship to bring about the obedience of faith among all the Gentiles for His name’s sake,

Romans 5:2 NAS     through whom also we have obtained our introduction by faith into this grace in which we stand ; and we exult in hope of the glory of God.

Romans 12:6 NAS     Since we have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, each of us is to exercise them accordingly: if prophecy, according to the proportion of his faith ;

1 Corinthians 3:10 NAS      According to the grace of God which was given to me, like a wise master builder I laid a foundation, and another is building on it. But each man must be careful how he builds on it.

2 Corinthians 9:8 NAS     And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that always having all sufficiency in everything, you may have an abundance for every good deed

Galatians 2:9 NAS     …and recognizing the grace that had been given to me, James and Cephas and John, who were reputed to be pillars, gave to me and Barnabas the right hand of fellowship, so that we might go to the Gentiles and they to the circumcised.

Ephesians 3:2 NAS     if indeed you have heard of the stewardship of God’s grace which was given to me for you;

And there are many more…

So what do you think? Does this understanding of grace seem fair, logical, and Biblical? Or have I, perhaps, missed something?

What is Grace? (Part 2)

Posted on by Crystal Rodli
2

I apologize for the abrupt end to the previous post on grace. It wasn’t intended to be a dramatic pause, I promise. It was just one of those reflections I sat down to write, overconfident in my ability to be succinct. The thing kept getting longer and longer, and there was still much I meant to say. I guess I’ll have to split it into two or three installments. It’ll be more difficult to follow the flow of thought (which might not have been smooth sailing anyway), but at least it will be in manageable chunks.

I left off explaining why I think unmerited, though usually a completely accurate adjective, should not be assumed in the Biblical definition of grace. Along with confining the concept of grace to unnecessarily cramped quarters, the attachment of unmerited seems to have produced a confusing disassociation between the results of grace and the one through whom they are manifested.

I said before that grace could be described as God’s kind intention toward us—and its manifestation in our lives, and in all of creation. In more practical terms, grace is the God-given ability to be who he intends us to be, and to do what he intends us to do.

Let’s return to the little scenario I began with:

One believer thanks another believer for some act of service or encouragement—only to be promptly informed that their gratitude is entirely misdirected. The forthcoming explanation apprises the grateful one that the good thing that was done really had nothing to do with doer’s efforts, but was accomplished solely by God’s grace working through him or her.

I didn’t choose this illustration to pick on nice folks who respond to praise or recognition in this way. I’m pretty sure I’ve done it myself a time or two. I chose it because this response assumes that, apart from some intangible and poorly-defined state of yieldednes, the effect of grace is in no way dependent on the participation of its recipient and agent.

This is hard to reconcile, first of all, because we are all very well aware of our own efforts and the part they play in the good things we do—the good things God does through us. How can it be true that the positive results of our actions have nothing to do with us?

An illustration is probably in order here. Partly because he is always on my mind, and partly because I am unashamedly proud of him, I’ll offer my husband as a for-instance.

He is a brilliant thinker and an effective communicator. These are God-given gifts. This is grace. But he has the freedom (also grace) to respond in a variety of ways. He could ignore these abilities and leave them untapped. He could take advantage of them for some selfish pursuit. Or, he could choose to use them for the Kingdom of God, but put little effort into developing them into something very useful.

He does none of those things.

Instead, he has—and continues to—study diligently, in order to grow in wisdom and to improve his ability to communicate. He listens and tries to see people.  He strives to be open and sensitive to God.

These are all choices that enable him to make use of the grace available to him. He engages in a very literal cooperation and partnership with God. The way he responds to grace has immeasurable significance for his relationship with God, for his family and friends, for our church, and for the Kingdom of God.

In all of our endeavors, we never get away from grace. It is always there—providing, inviting, directing, enabling, and multiplying. Nothing is possible without it. But grace is much more like a compass, a pair of oars, and a favorable wind, than a current that carries us along, without our knowledge or consent.

Grace waits for me. I was meant to take up the oars. If I expect a current to carry me away, I may end up just bobbing on the surface. Even the ability to float and bob is made possible by grace…but is that really what God desires for my life?

Image source: visualphotos.com

What is Grace?

Posted on by Crystal Rodli
6

I’ve been reading The Grace and Truth Paradox, by Randy Alcorn. It’s a good little book. Alcorn has a gift for expounding practical truths in such a blunt and obvious manner that the reader ends up feeling very silly for having ever forgotten or minimized them. Some of his one-liners almost (but not quite) make me want to say “Amen!” right out loud. That’s big—bigger than you may know.

But I don’t intend to discuss Alcorn’s book in this post. I’m going to discuss thoughts from a discussion that was prompted by his book. After I put the book down the other night, my husband and I fell to talking about grace—what it is, what it isn’t, and how it is popularly understood.

I’ll begin, as our conversation did, with an analysis of that awkward interlude that we have all been on one side or the other of…

One believer thanks another believer for some act of service or encouragement—only to be promptly informed that their gratitude is entirely misdirected. The forthcoming explanation apprises the grateful one that the good thing that was done really had nothing to do with doer’s efforts, but was accomplished solely by God’s grace working through him or her.

This humble-esque response is usually well-meant, but it may not be as humble as it appears—and it defintiely betrays a narrow and inconsistent view of grace.

It both assumes, and fails to assume, much.

Of course our actions and their outcomes are entirely dependent on grace!

Grace gives us life and a universe to live in. Grace holds creation together. Grace allows us to wake to a new day, everyday.  Grace gives us the ability to learn and to communicate. Grace affords us the opportunity to develop our character and talents. Grace opens our eyes to God’s heart. Grace gives us wisdom and guidance. Grace gives us the freedom to offer all of this back to God, or to despise him with it.

But this is not what we have in mind when we humbly defer to grace in situations like the one mentioned above. It can’t be what we mean—or it would come up a lot more often.

“This chicken is delicious, Mom!”

“Thank you son, but it wasn’t really me—anything tasty about this dish is only a result of the grace of God.”

Anything we do (good or bad) is indeed made possible by grace—why are we so very concerned with giving God his due credit in some circumstances, while taking it entirely for granted in others?

We came up with a couple possibilities—either the preeminence of grace in all things is being overlooked, or the Biblical concept of grace has become distorted in popular theology. Or both?

Early in my Christian walk, I was taught that the definition of grace is unmerited favor. And if you’ve been a student of Christian-ese for any time at all, you’ve surely heard the following lines:

Grace is getting what you don’t deserve, and mercy is NOT getting what you do deserve.

Imagine my surprise when I later learned that the New Testament grace (charis) is quite accurately translated (without a modifier) as just plain old grace—or favor.

grace

noun

1. favor or goodwill. Synonyms: kindness, kindliness, love, benignity; condescension

2. a manifestation of favor, especially by a superior (from Dictionary.com)

fa·vor

noun

1. something done or granted out of goodwill, rather than from justice or for remuneration; a kind act.

2. friendly or well-disposed regard; goodwill.

3. the state of being approved or held in regard.

4. a gift bestowed as a token of goodwill, kind regard, love, etc. (from Dictionary.com)

All things considered, I think grace is better described as God’s kind intention toward us—and its manifestation in our lives, and all of creation.

The designation of  unmerited isn’t completely without merit (ha!). God’s favor often has nothing to do with our virtues. He sends the life-giving blessing of rain to both the righteous and the unrighteous (Matt 5:45). And grace (in the form of Jesus voluntary, sacrificial death) is certainly identified as the means of our salvation—which we did not (and cannot) earn (Eph 2:8). This particular facet of God’s grace toward us is of supreme importance, and is, appropriately, a central theme of the New Testament.

But if we confine grace to the context of unearned salvation (and maybe the bestowal of a handful of recognized “spiritual gifts”), our version of this concept is only based on a true story. This narrowness really clicked for me when my husband pointed out the following Biblical rebuttal a few years ago.

 52 And Jesus kept increasing in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men.  (emphasis added, Luke 2:52)

Favor here is charis, the same word that is translated grace in all our famous grace passages. Jesus’ favor from the Father, and from other people—was unmerited?

I think I’ll leave it there for now. More on the scope and function of grace next time.

Until then, your thoughts and comments are most welcome!

Phones, Physics, and God

Posted on by Crystal Rodli
5

I got a free smartphone with a new mobile account a little over a year ago.  It was a fun toy at first. I downloaded a couple of stupid apps, and enjoyed the novelty of checking Facebook/email from the phone.

But now I run our lives from that thing.

It is my calendar and my alarm clock. It has my grocery and to-do lists on it.  I use it to track our budget, and even my personal fitness plan.  It is the hub from which I am currently playing four or five different scrabble games. It is my mp3 player and my camcorder. It is my dictionary and my primary Bible.

If all that didn’t make me altogether too dependent on the wonderful little gadget, I recently discovered that I can download e-books and audio books from my local library right onto my phone!

I didn’t waste any time. I’m currently reading two (phone) books and listening to one. And I just finished listening to The Case for a Creator, by Lee Strobel.

Aside from a few of the more technical discussions on physics and cosmology, Strobel’s book was a great one to listen to casually as I made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, picked up toys, and folded laundry. It was humbling and awe-inspiring to learn of the incomprehensible amount of fine-tuning of the universe that was necessary to make the earth a habitable planet. It was fascinating to get a glimpse into the incredibly intricate machinery of a cell, and the vast amounts of information contained in a strand of DNA.

Interestingly, though, there was something about this book that grabbed my attention even more than the evidence for intelligent design—the personal reflections of the scientists themselves. It was just plain old inspiring to hear them describe how their studies have bolstered their faith or taught them things about God’s character and intentions.

“I think of the wry smile that might be on the lips of God as, in the last few years, all sorts of evidence for the reliability of the Bible and for his creation of the universe and life have come to light. I believe he’s caused them to be unveiled at his providence and that he delights when we discover his fingerprints in the vastness of the universe…in the dusty relics of paleontology and in the complexity of the cell. So, exploring the scientific and historical evidence for God is not only a cognitive experience, it’s also an act of worship for me.”

—Stephen C. Meyer, Ph.D., Director of Discovery Institute’s Center for Science and Culture, and author of Signature in the Cell: DNA and the Evidence for Intelligent Design (HarperOne 2009).

“Over and over again, the extraordinary conditions that create a hospitable environment on earth also happen to make our planet strangely well suited for viewing analyzing, and understanding the universe…To find that we have a universe where the very places where we find observers, are also the very best overall places for observing—that’s surprising!”

—Jay W. Richards, Ph.D., Vice President Discovery Institute, and co-author of  The Privileged Planet (Regnery Publishing, Inc., 2004).

“My conclusion, frankly, is that the universe was designed for observers living in places where they can make scientific discoveries. There may be other purposes to the universe, but at least we know that scientific discovery was one of them.”

—Guellermo Gonzalez, Ph.D., Assistant professor of astronomy at Iowa State University and co-author of The Privileged Planet (Regnery Publishing, Inc., 2004).

“I see physics as uncovering the evidence of God’s fingerprint at a deeper and more subtle level than the ancients could’ve dreamed of. The heavens really do declare the glory of God. Even more so for soneone trained in physics and with eyes to see…The deeper we dig, we see that God is more subtle and more ingenious, and more creative than we ever thought possible. And I think that’s the way God created the universe for us – to be full of surprises.”

—Robin Collins, Ph.D., Professor of Philosophy at Messiah College.

That last bit really resonated with me, because I think heaven is full of intentional surprises that God is excited for us to discover. Why? Well, it just fits with his self-revelation in the Bible, and with how I experience his creation now. The above quotes all touch on this theme in one way or another. God made the universe in such a way that it is full of discoverable miracles. Some are rather obvious, and others require a good deal of investigation, but all of them can teach us something about him.

 For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made…    Romans 1:20 

Personally, I’ve been chewing on these thoughts:

He wants to be sought and seen through what he has made. God’s creativity is an expression of his mind. He has shared it with us in a very humble and vulnerable way—the gift of life, and a world to live it in. Will I take the time to see him, and know him better through the beauty and complexity of what he has made?

He had us in mind. This world was made for us to cultivate and enjoy. God’s intentions for us have not changed. Our discovery is his delight. Sin puts a kink in things, but someday, we will once again enjoy God’s creative beauty unfettered—and the pleasure will be both ours and his.

…but just as it is written, “THINGS WHICH EYE HAS NOT SEEN AND EAR HAS NOT
HEARD, AND which HAVE NOT ENTERED THE HEART OF MAN, ALL THAT GOD HAS PREPARED FOR THOSE WHO LOVE HIM.”      1 Corinthians 2:9

Your turn. What have you learned about God from creation/nature/science?

Fun Fail

Posted on by Crystal Rodli
4

Yesterday evening I was feeling like I ought to spend a little quality time with my sons. As much as I enjoy those guys, it was really kind of a spontaneous, guilt-motivated decision. I knew it had been too long since I set everything else aside just to be with them. Bed time was rapidly approaching, so I needed something fun, engaging, and…quick. Fresh out of inspiration, I consulted random “fun family activities” links—the majority of which were provided by Mormon authorship. I only noticed this phenomenon after one of them suggested taking a walk around the “temple” grounds together.

I finally settled on turning off all the lights in the house, blasting some instrumental music, laying on the living room floor with our eyes closed, and taking turns telling the stories the music prompted in our imaginations.

Kids like to use their imagination, right?

A lively fiddle tune was first up. When I asked the boys what they thought was going on, my four-year-old piped in right away.

“I think Pandora is going on!” (I was, in fact, playing a Pandora station.)

And then,

“Can I be done now, Mom?”

That left just me and the eight-year-old—in the dark, on the living room floor, engulfed in a deafening jig. He decided to go next.

“I think it sounds like a fiddler playing his fiddle and hopping around. Your turn, Mom.”

Okay, I guess I’ll show ‘em how it’s done, I thought.

Enthusiastically, I launched into an enchanting description of a dancing grasshopper and his joyful anticipation of the ripening midsummer grains. At the crescendo of my imaginary insect musical, the warmth of the sun caused the grains to pop right out of their husks like popcorn. The grasshopper then leaped about, blithely gathering the delicious fireworks that were everywhere exploding around him.

My son was quiet for just a moment, and then he said,

“Interesting…well…uh…I think I’m done now. You can keep going if you want…but…um….”

The boys were polite, and they humored me, but that wasn’t really the idea. They certainly weren’t delighted. There was no magic. Little eyes did not dance.

So, aside from choosing a really awkward activity, what was the problem?

Well, I had decided that a mom ought to be spending quality time with her kids, so I impulsively chose a random activity that fit the criteria of “doing something with my kids”. I didn’t try to connect with them where they were at. I didn’t try to do their things with them. I didn’t try to enter their world and share it with them. In short, I wasn’t really doing it for them. I was trying to fulfill my perceived obligation to them with little or no consideration for who they are or where they are at.

I’m not all down on myself as a parent or anything. Sometimes we do silly things. But it made me think about my relationships in general.

On a personal level, I wonder how often I go out of my way to offer myself to people in a manner that is meaningful or engaging for them. When I think about it, I have to admit that it’s more often the case that I invite people to enjoy what I enjoy with me, giving very little thought to what might be best or most comfortable for them. I’m only too happy to cuddle up and watch a movie with my husband when he surprises me by picking up a movie I’ll enjoy. I can’t remember the last time I tried to find a “man movie” to watch with him.  I’ll make the effort to get to know someone if they want to relax, sip coffee, and talk about life in my living room…but they’ll just have to find someone else to connect with if they really enjoy having a pleasant chat while window shopping together. It can be a very positive thing to open my home, my life, and my interests to others, but much depends on the motive and the circumstances.

On a corporate level, this same pattern can sometimes be seen in churches, ministries, and Christian organizations.  We get the idea that we ought to be doing this or that for one group of people or another. Then we come up with a program or an event that fits the general description. A shockingly small amount of consideration or research goes into determining the actual needs, interests, or cultural peculiarities of the folks we are targeting. And if the thing flops, we might just be offended that people didn’t take more of an interest, or show more support. I think the problem is that, although we are trying to do a good thing, we aren’t really trying to serve the people in question. Rather, we are scrambling to find some way to offer something we think we ought to be offering.

It’s a good thing to think about. I really don’t want the culmination of my life and ministry to look like a grasshopper story, in the dark, on the living room floor.