God in my Closet

I heard a THUMP, a yelp, and muffled, "Help me!"
Bounding upstairs to the bedroom I shared with my little sister, I found her awkwardly wedged behind the double-decker shoe rack in our closet.

She was obviously stuck, feet in the air, one arm beneath her, accompanied by a jelly shoe, dirty laundry, and all manner of little girl minutiae.

Upon extrication, she shamefacedly explained that she had been reading C.S. Lewis's The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, and had noticed a shoe at an odd angle in our closet. It seemed to disappear into the wall, so she thought there might be a door into another world, right in our very room!  When she attempted to get into the fantasy land, she fell over the shoe rack and got stuck.

I laughed and teased her, and told everyone else in our family about the silly thing she did. Her eight-year-old imagination had managed to transfer the mystical land of Lewis's wardrobe to our dry-walled, suburban closet. It was so funny and ridiculous!

I was forgetting that just that week, maybe even the night before, I had cowered in that same closet, praying for God to protect me. I was so afraid evil spirits would get me, that I would be possessed if I let my guard down, or say the wrong thing and be condemned to hell. Fear crushed me into panic attacks in that closet. I would hide in its light, crying and praying, wanting to see a guardian angel, wanting proof that I was safe, wanting to escape the darkness in the dark of our room.

With twenty two years of hindsight, I can see that she and I were after the same thing. We both wanted another world to infiltrate our own, and with the faith of children, we thought it was possible. I wistfully realize now that we had better understanding then.  What was her longing, but for heaven? What was my longing, but to take refuge in a real, true God?

Jesus exhorted us to have faith like a child. I think that includes knowing there is no 'impossible' with God.  He can do anything we ask or imagine.  As we age, it seems like we don't out-grow child faith as much as diminish from it. Nowadays, even though I claim him as my God and Savior, I find that I don't  ask because I don't trust. I don't ask for fear that He won't show up.

Jesus also said that the Kingdom of God is at hand! It is coming! It is here, now!
But most of the time we don't have seeing eyes. We don't see that the heavenly kingdom is in constant motion, infiltrating this world all the time.  Perhaps if we could peel back our curtain of blindness,  rid ourselves of the dark glass, we would realize that heaven is at work among us and God is always, always our very present help in trouble. Always, and now.

There have only been a few times in my adult life that God has broken through to me, shown me a glimpse of this reality.  They are always startling, dreadful, awe-filled moments. 

One time I was sitting under a tree in the mountains and looked up to see an insect suspended in the air. I was suddenly aware of the space all around and beyond it. I looked past it into the blue sky and knew that beyond the blue was endless blackness scattered with stars. I knew it went on forever and ever, that it was immense, infinite. And I felt the Lord saying, "It all fits in the palm of my hand."  I was aware of His bigness beyond the universe, and my heart pounded with awe-full fear. I wanted to hide under a rock. I wanted to jump in the bushes like Eve in the garden. So exposed and small. 

But mixed in with that fear was longing. I couldn't stand it, but I didn't ever want it to stop.  God's greatness threatened to crush me, but all I wanted was to stay and be crushed. I was wholly known, crushingly known, but wholly loved regardless. This revelation was just a moment, a few seconds and it was over, but I still long for it. Heaven was at hand. 

I am thankful that he showed me some truth. In the midst of miseries and uncertainties, in the face of decisions and unknowns and brokenness, I can remember that our world is cradled in a mighty big hand. Only a God so great, only the only God, could condescend to care for each soul and still hold all the universe together. It is what makes him God.

It is daunting to know that God is so great, intimidating even. Who are we that he is mindful of us? And yet, that is also the sweetness of childlike faith. I know that God was in our closet, comforting me to sleep, awakening a thirst in my sister. His heaven invading our small world. No matter how important the Daddy, he will always be attentive to his children.  

Always, and now.

Jump for Jehoshaphat!

I was wondering what to write about this morning and did a random flip-open of the Bible.
WA-POW! "He summons the heavens above, and the earth, that he may judge his people."

Nope, I don't really want to broach that subject. So I flipped again... "Rise up, O Judge of the earth; pay back to the proud what they deserve."
And again, "He will judge the world in righteousness..."
And again, "But the court will sit, and his power will be taken away..."
Flip, "You are the ones who justify yourselves in the eyes of men, but God know your hearts."
Flip, "Instead He entrusted Himself to Him who judges justly."

I'm not kidding.  Each random Bible-opening found yet another verse on judgement. The final straw came in with: "I will gather all nations and bring down to the Valley of Jehoshaphat. There I will enter in judgment against them concerning my inheritance,  my people Israel..." (Joel 3:2).

So I gave in. I'm writing about Jehoshaphat.  It's an unpopular baby name these days, but it means 'the Lord judges'.

The concept of the Lord's judgment is not popular with most Americans (and perhaps too popular with a small minority). Biblically, the Lord's judgment is the end of the world, the final judgment of earth. The imagery isn't very appealing. The sun turns black; the moon turns to blood. There is blood and fire and billows of smoke. Destruction. Weeping and gnashing of teeth. The grapes of wrath are trampled. "The day of the Lord will come like a thief. The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything in it will be laid bare." (2 Peter 3:10)
Ouch. Now you see why I wanted to avoid this altogether.

But in the midst of devastation, there's something seemingly out of place.

Praise. Thanksgiving. Joy.

Revelation has the heavens rejoicing, and in 19:1-2 goes on to say, "Hallelujah! Salvation and glory and power belong to our God, for true and just are his judgments."

True and just are his judgments. 

Our perfect God made a perfect world, and gave it to us. We proceeded to destroy it for personal gain. He made us in his image, his highest creation. We proceeded to kill, exploit, ignore, scorn, and abuse each other. He gave us the words of absolute Truth, and we proceeded to discredit and judge them based on our desires.  Is it not right that He justly looks at our conduct and finds us wanting? 

So often we don't take our own misconduct very seriously... a little white lie, a moment of temper, minor gossip with a friend, improper change collected, harmless piracy of movies or music, a moral slip, a bad habit, it just happened once, just looking out for myself...
When we compare ours to the obvious sins of others, we can't possibly be judged as evil.  And even if we know we've screwed up, nothing we do now can undo our pasts. A true judge will see us clearly. Our hearts will betray us. Shouldn't we praise him for being a true judge?

Then also, there are all these unsatisfied debts, all these wrongs committed that have never been righted. "Will not God bring justice about for his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off? I tell you He will see that they get justice, and quickly." (Luke 18:7-8) The Lord will avenge the helpless, the victims. Again, isn't this just judge worthy of praise?

I think this is the point where the gleeful minority shout out, "That's right! Stick it to 'em! Give them what they deserve. Bring it on!"

But lest we be hasty in wanting fire to rain down, remember that the Lord waits patiently to make his final judgment, "not wanting anyone to perish, but all to come to repentance" (2 Peter 3:9). God himself says, "Do I take pleasure in the death of the wicked? Rather am I not pleased when they turn from their ways (a.k.a. repent) and live? "(Ezekiel 18:23).  Delight over the destruction of the this world is not aligned with the heart of God.  He clearly isn't of a mind to rush things, and gives us all kinds of opportunity to come back to Him. Talk about unconditional love.

Praise and lament seem to go together in the case of final judgment, but praise ultimately wins the day. Included in the Revelation revelry is salvation: "For Christ died for sins, once for all, the just for the unjust, to bring you to God." (1 Peter 3:18). His sacrifice opens the door to repentance, so that if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The debt of death is paid. We're given Grace and mercy we cannot earn. We can be reconciled to God.  We can escape judgment and live. At the final judgment and destruction of this world, God will bring forth a new heaven and a new earth: beautiful, glorious, free of pain and sorrow. Hallelujah indeed! 

The Final Judgment will fill us all with dread and awe. The Lord will judge in perfect fairness and understanding. He will be praised for his rightful justice in response to the corrupt. He will be praised for His mercy towards repentant hearts. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

Silence in Heaven

"When he opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven for about half an hour. And I saw the seven angels who stand before God, and to them were given seven trumpets.

Another angel, who had a golden censer, came and stood at the altar. He was given much incense to offer, with the prayers of the saints, on the golden altar before the throne.  The smoke of the incense with the prayers of the saints went up before God, out of the angel's hand. Then the angel took the censer, filled it with fire from the altar, and hurled it on the earth; and there were voices, thunder, flashes of lightening and an earthquake." 

Revelation 8:1-5

Silence in heaven. That's a crazy thought. Heaven is filled with songs and worship of the Lord Jesus... and then suddenly, this silence.
Why is it there? Some say it's a dramatic pause before the final show down between good and evil. Maybe so, but look at what the eighth angel is doing.

In the silence, this angel carries a golden bowl, filled with the prayers of Christ followers, and places it on the altar fire. The smoke and the prayers rise before the Lord.

This may sound cryptic, but it's a beautiful example of God's love for his people. This insight into heaven gives me hope and comfort.

The altar. When God first instructed Moses to build altars, He said they must be set apart, holy, and "whatever touches it will be holy"(Exodus 29:37, 30:10). Anything placed on the altar is made clean, holy, pure.

This passage is full of rich theology, and I don't want to belabor it. Just ponder that the altar was a place of sacrifice for sin; an animal was substituted for the guilty person and died in his place.  Then Jesus came, the perfect Lamb of God, and substituted Himself for us, satisfying sin's death penalty once and for all (and conquering death!). He is the last sacrifice on this altar. The prayers are bathed in the fire of His sacrifice.

That still sounds foreign, but when I think about my prayers: ugly motives mixed with sincere petitions, the desire to sound eloquent underlying spoken prayers, imperfect pleas for my will instead of His will be done, it's no wonder that my prayers need a bath. All my corrupted thoughts and motives burn away in this purifying fire, and my prayers are presented to God as holy and blameless.

I wonder if the silence in heaven is for the purpose of listening to these rising prayers. I know God can listen regardless, but He calls for silence.  Perhaps the silent solemnity of the moment is for the benefit of all who witness it.  When we speak to Him, He wants us to know He is listening and that our prayers are important to Him, so important that He would silence the worship He so rightfully deserves, to allow our puny prayers to be heard.

Not only does He listen, He answers. After the smoke of these prayers rises up before Jesus, the angel takes the fire of these purified entreaties from the altar, and hurls them back down to the earth with power. Thunder, lightening, voices, earthquake...

He takes our helpless pleadings, and by His almighty sacrifice, our prayers are given power to change the world. He condescends to lift us up, to let us be a part of His plan for this earth.

Prayer. We often go to it as a last resort. We think we are just talking to the air, that it is a waste of time, and wouldn't it be better to do something?  We have all kinds of excuses why we don't pray: no time, don't know how, there are too many needs, it's a personal thing-- secondary to caring for people...

Revelation 8 tells me something different,  something reiterated throughout the Bible. Look to Jesus, Paul, James, Daniel, Nehemiah, David all praying;  not in meditation or contemplation (not saying these things are bad), but in direct conversation with God. The prayer examples of the Bible are simple, direct, humble, and for the most part, they are petitions. We must ask God to meet all needs: to pray for ourselves and on behalf of others, on behalf of the world. When we don't know what to pray for, the Holy Spirit intercedes for us, pleading on our behalf (Romans 8:26).

Be comforted, and pray, pray, pray. Pray alone and with others. Pray even when it feels foolish or hopeless.  Our prayers are so important that God silences heaven to hear them. He cleans them, listens to them, and infuses them with power from the conquering cross. Then he hurls them back to the earth and changes the world.