Distant

Sometimes that word is what I'd use to describe God. In reality, it's more likely that the distance is something cerebral, inside of me, something that I can't quite wrap words -- or thoughts -- around. At least not precisely.

Whoever first quipped that God created man in His image and man returned the favor, had a keen (although perhaps brief) insight into the heart of man: a heart that longs, in the most inappropriate ways, to be like God (Gen. 3:5), and a heart that longs, in the most appropriate ways, to be like God (Matt. 5:48).

In the end, I think, such anthropomorphism about the nature of God has little use because He's God ... and we're human. (Of course, the caveat is He's the God who became human!) If His ways are truly higher than ours -- and, indeed, they are -- then even the God-man, JESUS the Christ, whose name means Yahweh is Salvation, should be recognized and praised as God who became man, and not man who became God. Man's never been able to figure out the trick to the latter, and, in the end, history would indicate that such a path leads to a life that offers neither God nor man, because to be truly human, I suppose, would necessitate being in communion with one's Creator -- and that doesn't work too well when you're trying to be Him.

With all that said, I don't understand God, and I never will. I read His book, and it's alive. More alive than I am. More real than I am. Only men moved (possessed?) by the Holy Spirit could write such a book.

To be literate, living in the 21st century, and to have a leather-bound Bible at one's fingertips is really a bit overwhelming. It's like playing with a Lion: it might lick you, it might make you feel safe, but it's never going to be your pet, because the reality is, it could devour you. "Our God is a consuming fire" (Hebrews 12:29).

The conclusion, then, is that God, while full of grace and truth (John 1:14), is often a source of destruction (and I say that in the most positive way). In the end, I've found He burns and devours everything that's not of Him -- it's the painful part of being conformed to the image of His Son (Romans 8:29).

It hurts. Like hell.

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