Sleeping Through Storms

God is not all-powerful—at least, not in the ways we define power.

For most of us, power means that we get our way. Power means that we can impose our will upon the world around us. Power means we can conform others into our images in order to achieve unity and security. In our minds, we equate power with control.

So, when the world spins out of control as it did in Oklahoma, and at the Boston marathon, and at Sandy Hook Elementary School something over six months ago, we begin to wonder what happened to this all-powerful God to whom the skies and seas and nations are supposed to bow.

Are the heavens really declaring the majesty of God when a tornado destroys an entire town? 

Only the most deranged and pathological of leaders suggested in tragedy and disaster’s wake that God was in control of the situation or was somehow, ultimately, responsible for such occurrences. I’m sorry, but I don't believe that shootings, terrorist acts and tornadoes are part of God’s plan! 

Most of us can admit that without losing our faith, just like we can admit that God isn’t really calling the shots (no pun intended) when it comes to bullets, bombs, jet streams, weather patterns and 200-mile-per-hour winds. What we imply in this, but don’t often say, is that, deep down, we know God is not in control. Secretly, we give thanks for that. 

Naturally, we then ask where exactly God is in the midst of tragedy and suffering. This question doubles as an unconscious prayer of thanksgiving and relief. While we may feel desolation and alienation from God in the midst of great tragedies and natural disasters, we also feel grateful—hopeful, even—that God isn’t orchestrating all the pain and destruction in the world. It’s a relief not to be worshipping a God who sends tornadoes, earthquakes, tsunamis, disease, and plague. It’s a relief not to pray to a God who indiscriminately kills children with the same heavens which declare God’s glory.

God is not in control of the weather. I don't believe God is in the business of controlling anything.

But if God isn’t in control in the midst of such destruction, then who or what is? Something more sinister? Maybe something more dangerous than a sinister being? Perhaps no one—and nothing—is in control. It’s a scary and disorienting thought to begin to consider God isn’t protecting us like the divine Secret Service from the suffering and tragedy in our world.

We find this idea jarring because I think we misunderstand what divine power is. God doesn’t control the weather, because that isn’t the nature of God’s power. God’s power is something more mysterious, more paradoxical.

God’s power is in the giving up of power, in the act of disarming divine omnipotence in favor of covenant and relationship with creation.

God’s power is in the act of becoming empty (Gk. kenosis) in order to become one of us. As Paul writes in Philippians 2:5-8:

Christ Jesus … who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God
as something to be exploited,
but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death—
even death on a cross.

God’s power is in being in us and with us, not as all-powerful and “up there” somewhere.

In the gospel of John, Jesus tells us that when we see him, we see God. There’s a popular saying based on that notion, suggesting that the radical nature of the Christian faith is not that Jesus is like God, but that God is like Jesus. And Jesus is in the business of emptying himself of power to the point of utter alienation and forsakenness by God. So what if God is indeed like Jesus?

But, you might argue, there’s a story in the gospels about Jesus and his power to control the weather, and it’s true—there is such a legend. Once upon a time, as the writer of Mark tells us, a terrible storm rises on the sea, threatening to swamp the disciples and the boat they are in. They are terrified, undone at the prospect of capsizing and drowning. They are baling water from the boat, struggling with wind-whipped sails, hanging on for their lives.

Jesus, meanwhile, is sleeping.

“Don’t you care that we are perishing?” the disciples finally shout at him to wake him.

Jesus rebukes the wind and commands it to quiet down. As the text says, “He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, ‘Peace! Be still!’ Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm (Mk 4:39).

Jesus is rebuking the disciples as much as the storm when he says, “Peace! Be still!” Then they marvel at his power, asking, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” (Mk 4:41). 

We are like the disciples. We want God to calm the wind and seas. We want to shout, "God, what’s the matter with you? Don’t you see we are perishing? Don’t you see so many of us — children, even! — have already perished? Wake up, God! Stop sleeping when we need you most!”

Like the disciples, we believe the power—the divine—is in the ability to control things. We assume, like the disciples, that the miracle is in Jesus rebuking and calming the storm.

But if you notice, Jesus doesn’t seem to want to do anything. He wants to keep sleeping! He goes so far as to rebuke his disciples for even asking for his help. He calls them faithless. This storm-calming power is the kind of power Jesus came in order to give up, to empty himself of. It’s the same power he rejects when he refuses to throw himself from the pinnacle when he is tempted in the desert. It’s the same power he turns down when he refuses to kneel before the Adversary. It’s that same superficial power that controls earthly things.

I don’t really think the miracle in this story is about Jesus calming the storm and taking control. The miracle in this story is that Jesus is there, with the disciples in the water-logged and weather-beaten boat, experiencing the same terrible storm, the same terrible waves, and the same terrible danger, and that alone should have been enough.

God’s power isn’t in the control of creation or of people, but in being in covenant and relationship with them. It isn’t in imposing the divine will or insisting on its own way but in sojourning with us as we fumble around and make our way in the world. God’s power is not in miraculous interventions, pre-emptive strikes in the cosmic war against suffering and evil, but in inviting us to build with God a commonwealth of love, peace and justice. God’s power is not in the obliterating of what is bad in the world, but in empowering us to build something good in this world. As Bishop Desmond Tutu of South Africa has said, “Do your little bit of good where you are; it's those little bits of good put together that overwhelm the world.”

Instead of enforcing control and solutions onto the world, God’s power is revealed in coming alongside us, journeying with us, suffering with us, and even staying with us in the boat when the storms come.

THE GOSPEL FROM A TO Z

Paul’s letter to the Galatians is dynamite! It’s an explosion of joy and freedom that leaves us enjoying a deep significance, security and satisfaction—the life of blessing into which God calls us. Galatians brings us face to face with the gospel—the real, genuine gospel. 

It’s very common in Christian circles to assume that “the gospel” is a set of basic "ABC" teachings that are the way in which someone enters the kingdom of God. But in this short letter, Paul outlines the bombshell truth that the gospel is the A to Z of the Christian life. It’s not only the way to enter the kingdom (the “A”); it’s the way to live as part of the kingdom (“B” through “Z”). The gospel changes life from top to bottom. The gospel transforms our hearts. The gospel transforms our thinking. The gospel transforms our approach to absolutely everything.

Paul challenges us with the truth that those who’ve been followers of Jesus for quite a while need the gospel every bit as much as new followers. Paul will explain to us that the gospel—the message that we are more wicked than we ever dared believe, but more loved and accepted in Christ than we ever dared hope—creates a radical new dynamic for personal growth, for obedience, for love. As I've said, the gospel is dynamite, and I pray that it explodes in your heart, and makes you passionate to see it do the same work in others’ hearts.

 It’s helpful to recognize three things from the historical setting of Paul’s letter to the Galatians which will help us understand it: 

First, the Apostle Paul’s task was starting new Christ-communities. After he began one of these communities and then left that region, he continued to supervise these communities through letters. Galatians is customarily dated around 54 C.E. It’s the only one of Paul’s seven genuine letters to be addressed to a group of communities rather than to a single community or individual; it is sent to the “churches of Galatia.” 

Those in the Christ-communities in Galatia were primarily non-Jews, nearly all of them “God-lovers” who had been attracted to Judaism and now were attracted to Paul's message. In other words, their background made Paul’s converts in Galatia vulnerable to being misled.

Bear in mind, first of all, that Paul’s converts in Galatia weren’t being tempted by non-Christian teachers. Rather, these teachers were followers of Jesus! This was a major issue within early Christianity. The first followers of Jesus in Jerusalem were Jewish, but as the gospel spread out from that center, increasing numbers of non-Jews began to receive Christ. After Paul left Galatia, other teachers had told the Galatians that non-Jewish men had to be circumcised and both women and men had to follow Jewish food laws. For them, it seemed obvious that what Jesus began was a movement within Judaism and that non-Jews needed to become Jews. That included circumcision. They also taught that non-Jews needed to observe kosher dietary laws in order to be completely pleasing to God. These teachers meant well. I think they were only adding what they considered to be important customs and practices to somehow enhance the gospel. You might say they were offering a “new and improved” version of the gospel.

 By insisting on Christ-plus-something-else, i.e. Christ plus observance of the Jewish law as a requirement for full acceptance by God, these teachers were presenting a whole different way of relating to God from the one Paul had given them. Although this controversy might seem pretty irrelevant to us today, some of us also practice a Christ-plus-something-else gospel. For some of us, it might be Christ-plus-living better, trying harder, or making more of ourselves—whatever our own pet God-project or concern might be. But for Paul, this Christ-plus-something-else gospel simply would not do!

Paul addressed it with an all-abiding, all-important, always-relevant truth. He taught that the cultural divisions and disunity in the Galatian Christ-communities were due to confusion about the nature of the gospel. It is this different gospel that was creating the cultural division and strife. Paul forcefully and unapologetically fought the “different gospel” because to lose one’s grip of the true gospel is to desert Christ himself (1:6). Therefore, Paul believed everything was at stake in this debate. 

Perhaps the most striking aspect of the opening of Galatians is Paul’s tone, and the frame of mind that lies behind it. Paul is surprised and he also seems angry. Paul shows his most unattractive side. His language is remarkably strong. He sounds like he has a chip on his shoulder. Where normally Paul’s letters move on, after his greeting, to a thanksgiving for those he’s writing to, here he simply says: “I am astonished …” (verse 6a). What has made Paul so angry?

 First, Paul is angry because these followers of Jesus are taking hold of a gospel that isn’t really a gospel (v 7), so they are in enormous danger. They are in “confusion” (v 7b). 

Second, Paul is enraged at those who are misleading the converts of the Christ-community—those who are “trying to pervert the gospel” (v. 7b). Paul calls down condemnation on them (v. 9). More indirectly, Paul is also angry at the Galatians themselves, warning them that they are deserting the God who called them (v. 6b)--a serious charge! 

We’ll see as we walk through portions of Paul’s letter that what caused his angry outburst was a group of teachers who were teaching new non-Jewish followers of Jesus that they were obliged to keep the Jewish cultural customs of the law—the dietary laws, circumcision and the rest of the ceremonial law—in order to be truly pleasing to God. To the Galatians, this didn’t appear to be a radical difference from what they’d been taught. Surely the whole point of being a follower of Jesus is to be pleasing to God! But Paul says: “This is an absolute repudiation of everything I’ve been telling you.”

Paul isn’t pulling any punches! But if we put ourselves in Paul’s shoes and believe what he believed about the gospel, then we will find his attitude justifiable. If the Galatians are really turning their backs on God and taking hold of a gospel that isn’t a gospel at all, then their condition is dangerous.

But who is Paul to write to these people in this way? He’s an “apostle”—a person who has been sent with immediate divine authority. The Greek word apostolos means “sent one” and refers to someone commissioned for a particular task. Paul’s phrase “not of human origin” drives home the uniqueness of Paul and the first apostles. Of course those who are called to ministry by the Holy Spirit today are not “of human origin” either—the ultimate cause of their ministry is Jesus’ call, and the ultimate authority for their ministry is the witness to Christ in Scripture. But they are appointed by human authority. This means that though ministers ultimately receive their call from God, they are called through the intermediaries of other human ministers, by the approval of a denomination, through the election of a congregation, etc.

 Paul is claiming a whole lot more than this. He says in vv. 11-12:

“For I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that the gospel that was proclaimed by me is not of human origin; for I did not receive it from a human source, nor was I taught it, but I received it through a revelation of Jesus Christ.”

Paul is saying here that he didn’t receive his apostolic commission through anyone human source at all. No apostles taught him. No church commissioned him. He was commissioned and taught directly by the risen Jesus himself. 

Second, in verses 8-9, Paul says he was sent with a particular divine message—the gospel—and he gets more dogmatic about it than most modern congregations would put up with from any preacher, regardless of how important or eloquent she might be. Paul writes:

… even if we or an angel from heaven should proclaim to you a gospel contrary to what we proclaimed to you, let that one be accursed! As we have said before, so now I repeat, if anyone proclaims to you a gospel contrary to what you received, let that one be accursed! 

Wow! This means Paul claims his teaching is the standard for judging who is right and who is wrong. What Paul says is not the result of study, research, reflection and wisdom. It is God-given and both unchanging and unchangeable.

 This dogmatic and divinely-appointed Apostle reminds the Galatian Christ-communities of his message—the gospel, the only gospel. Then he gives them a quick, yet comprehensive, outline of the gospel message:

Who we are: helpless and lost! That’s what the word “rescue” implies in verse 4. Other founders of religions came to teach, not to rescue. Jesus was a great teacher, but when Paul gives us this nutshell version of Jesus’ ministry, he makes no mention of that at all. The average person on the street believes that a “Christian” is someone who follows Christ’s teaching and example. But Paul implies that’s impossible. After all, you don’t rescue people unless they are in a lost state and a helpless condition! This is what theologians call “total depravity” or, more accurately, “spiritual inability”. 

What Jesus did: How did Jesus rescue us? Jesus “gave himself for our sins” (v 4a). By adding “for our sins” Paul indicates clearly that he was thinking in sacrificial terms. In an age when sacrifice was almost universal as a means of retaining the goodwill and blessing of the gods such overtones would not have been missed. The word “for” means “on behalf of” or “in place of.” Christ’s death was represented as not just a general sacrifice, but a substitutionary one. He didn’t merely buy us a “second chance”, giving us another opportunity to get life right and stay right with God. He did all we needed to do, but cannot do. Symbolically, Jesus did all we should have done, in our place, so when he becomes our Savior, we are absolutely free from penalty or condemnation. 

What God did: God accepted the work of Christ on our behalf by raising him “from the dead” (v. 1) and by giving us the “grace and peace” (v. 3) that Jesus Christ won and achieved for us.

Why God did it: because God wanted to. This was all done “according to the will of our God and Father” (v 4d). God graciously planned what we didn’t realize we needed, and Christ by his grace (v. 6) came to achieve what we could never have achieved ourselves. There is no indication of any other motivation or cause for Christ’s mission except the will of God. There is nothing in us which merits it. Salvation is sheer grace alone. 

If we contributed to our rescue … if we had rescued ourselves … or if God had seen something deserving of rescue, or useful for God’s plan, in us … or even if we had simply called out for rescue based on our own reasoning and understanding … then we could pat ourselves on the back for the part we played in saving ourselves.

 But the gospel—Paul’s gospel—is clear; salvation, from first to last, is God’s doing. It is God’s calling, God’s plan, God’s action, and God’s work. This is the truth that lies at the heart of our faith. Paul reminds us that in the gospel we are brought far lower and raised much higher than we can imagine. I like what Jerry Bridges has said:

“Your worst days are never so bad that you are beyond the reach of God’s grace. And your best days are never so good that you are beyond the need of God’s grace.”

REVELATIONS ON REVELATION, PART 6

In my last post on Revelation, we started breaking the code in which John is writing. We learned that whenever he speaks of the “dragon,” that’s code for Satan, the devil. When he writes about the “beast” that’s code for the Roman Empire. In Revelation 13:11-18 he mentions another beast. Who or what is this second beast?

As we’ve said before, the emperors—many of them, anyway—required everyone to bow down to an image of the emperor and say, “Caesar is Lord!” The emperor needed thousands of religious officials to support and enforce this worship, acting with the power and approval of the emperor. They are represented by this second beast. This unholy priesthood is very good at its job. They were able through trickery to even make these images of the emperor appear to speak, even to breathe out smoke and fire as a way of creating fear and encouraging persons to bow and worship him, or else receive the consequences.

Worship of the emperor—bowing before his image and saying, “Caesar is Lord”—was a required pledge of loyalty to the emperor and the empire. Anyone who would not do this was suspected of treason. If the Romans took anything seriously, it was any threat of rebellion. Recall the trial of Jesus. Pilate could have cared less about all the religious charges being made against Jesus, but when Jesus was charged with being opposed to Caesar, Pilate took swift action.

If the threat of death didn’t force everyone to worship the emperor, the Romans could play another card—an economic one. That’s what the “mark of the beast” is all about. Verses 16-17:

… [the beast] causes all, both small and great, both rich and poor, both free and slave, to be marked on the right hand or the forehead, so that no one can buy or sell who does not have the mark, that is, the name of the beast or the number of its name. 

The Greek word used here for “mark” is charagma, the term for the imperial seal on official documents. You could only receive this seal by worshipping the emperor. In effect, it was a business license. Without it, you couldn’t buy or sell anything. Something else was behind this “mark of the beast.” What was used throughout the Roman Empire on a daily basis that had the image, name and blasphemous titles of the emperor? Coins, of course.

 John is saying to his fellow Christians, “These Romans want to boycott us in order to force us to worship their gods. We will boycott them! Don’t do business in any way, shape or form with Rome! Don’t even carry a coin with the hideous mark or image of the beast on it. To do otherwise is to support an evil empire that is oppressing and killing your fellow brothers and sisters. To use this filthy money, to bow down so we can get a license to sell and buy is to receive the mark of the beast! It’s as if the mark or image of the beast isn’t on the coins or the documents but on our very foreheads and hands! We must not do this! For we have another mark, the mark of Christ on our foreheads—the mark of baptism. We belong to Christ, not the emperor. I know this is difficult and costly. But it is far better to suffer now than to renounce our faith in Christ and suffer far greater later.”

Remember the whole issue of apartheid in South Africa? Do you recall how a small white minority were calling all the shots there, and leaving people of other races impoverished? During that time, it was brought to the attention of Church leaders in many main-line denominations that pension funds were being invested in companies and corporations in South Africa benefitting from apartheid. A decision was made to divest from any such companies, for to do otherwise was to support that oppressing regime. In a sense, this is what John is saying to Christians of his era.
Next, John turns back to the beast himself, to the emperor. Lest there be any confusion, he’s going to identify the beast:

This calls for wisdom: let anyone with understanding calculate the number of the beast, for it is the number of a person. Its number is six hundred sixty-six (Rev.13:18).

There’s probably nothing in Revelation that’s the source of more speculation that than the identity of “Mr. 666.” He’s been identified with popes, presidents, and leaders throughout the centuries. But what was John really saying here?

Note that John says that understanding this requires “wisdom” or understanding. In other words, he admits to writing in code and that this can only be understood by knowing how to break it.

John is practicing “gematria,” a kind of numerology. Greek, Hebrew and Latin didn’t have numbers like the English language does. We have an alphabet and a number system—1-2-3, etc. Those who spoke Greek, Hebrew, and Latin used their alphabet to double for numbers. (Think of Roman numerals.) It would be like us saying that A stands for 1, B for 2, C for 3, etc. You could send someone a message using a combination of letters, if you knew the numerical value of each letter.

John is saying that the beast is the person who name comes out numerically as “666.” Six is the number of evil. Said three times, “666” means that this beast is the very embodiment of evil! The name that scholars have found that matches the numbers “666” in Greek, Latin or Hebrew is “Neron Caesar”—Nero!

Remember the beast that had a mortal wound but somehow survived or had even been resurrected. As we’ve said before, this was thought by many to be Nero, but I think John was saying this: “Every emperor who comes to power and persecutes God’s people is Nero brought to life again. Every ruler who does the unholy, cruel and unjust things Nero did—including Domitian, the present emperor—is Nero alive again! He is the epitome of evil. He is 666! And though he would pretend to be a god, he will get what he deserves sooner or later. He will be judged by the true God!”

The important thing in Revelation is a warning—live by the oppression and persecution of others and you’ll reap what you sow. Nero has been alive throughout history and he is alive and well all over our world today! But history shows us that every nation or ruler who has built on the crushed bodies of persons sooner or later crumbles.

The United States of America had best take heed. God has given the United States great wealth, power and influence. How are we using them? Does it concern you—as it does me—that one American corporation (I won’t say which one) made $39 billion from the violence of the Iraq war? Does it concern you—as it does me—when you learn that income growth for the bottom 90% of Americans averaged just $59 /year over the past four decades, while income growth for the top 10% averaged $116,071 /year? Does it concern you—as it does me—when you hear that one wealthy member of the U.S. House of Representatives (again, I won’t say who) raked in $3.5 million in federal farm subsidies and called himself a “successful businessman” and then, at the same time, voted to cut food aid for the poor and called food stamps stealing “other people’s money”? I fear we are long past the need for some serious soul-searching as a nation—of who we are, why we are and what we are doing. We aren’t so high and mighty that we can’t fail and fall.  

The heart of Revelation has to do with the challenge that faces every generation of Christians, whatever their historical setting and circumstances, to be who we say we are—true followers of Jesus Christ. Maybe we aren’t forced to bow down to some emperor and say he’s a god, but there are pressures on us to compromise, to get along, to be like everyone else.

Paul wrote these words to the Christians living in Rome:

I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect (Romans 12:1-2).

J. B. Phillips’ translates this: “Don’t let the world around you squeeze you into its mold.”

The message of Revelation can be summed up this way: don’t allow the culture to call the shots! Don’t allow it to determine your values and priorities. You belong to Jesus Christ. Live as citizens of the Commonwealth of God!

When self-centered materialism shapes and molds our values, remember who you are! You are more than your credit cards. You are more than money. The brand you wear is not just Abercrombie and Fitch. No, you’re branded as disciples of Jesus Christ. 

If you want to find the “mark of the beast,” look for the pressures in everyday life which would undermine the values of mercy and love, compassion and caring, generosity and hospitality—those things which are meant to be the identifying marks of the followers of Jesus Christ.

"…AND I'LL BLOW YOUR HOUSE IN…"

Who hasn't heard the story of the “Three Little Pigs”? It begins with the title characters being sent out into the world by their mother, to "seek their fortune". The first little pig builds a house of straw, but a wolf blows it down and the pig runs away. The second little pig builds a house of sticks, which the wolf also blows down after he lets his brother in and before the pigs run away. The third pig builds a house of bricks and lets his brothers in. The wolf fails to blow down the house. He then attempts to trick the pigs out of the house by asking the pigs to meet him at various places, but the pigs outwit the wolf each time. Finally, the wolf decides to come down the chimney, but the clever little pigs catch the wolf in a cauldron of boiling water. The pigs slam the lid on, and cook and eat the wolf.

My favorite part of the story was the repeated verse:

"Little pig, little pig, let me come in."

"No, not by the hair on my chinny chin chin."

[then I’d say along]

"Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blowwww your house in!”

The early followers of Jesus had built houses of grief and mourning. Their leader had been executed by the Romans. But then a new message came and blew their houses down: “Jesus is alive!” Over the course of 40 days Jesus continued to teach and to touch. But the time came for Jesus to leave. He went to be with God, but left instructions for God’s disciples to wait in Jerusalem until the gift of the Holy Spirit was given.

Pentecost was a Jewish feast, celebrated 50 days after Passover. It was one of 3 pilgrim festivals—that is, when all Jews were required to travel to Jerusalem with sacrifices and offerings.

The Bible says that those of us who follow Jesus are on a journey. Jesus, too, was and is on a journey to find us.

Here is the central truth of Pentecost. We don’t “come to God”; God comes to us.

The dominant impression the world has of the church is that it’s for good people who have stopped doing the things they call sin. Church is for people who have guilty consciences and need help with them. So they come to God for help. But that’s not what makes the church what it is. No, the church is about God coming to us.

Chris Glaser has written in his blog:

“Jesus loves me, this I know,” and not just because the Bible tells me so. Mere words could never convey the love I have felt from Jesus. It came from my mom and dad, from Christian friends, teachers, professors, clergy, guides, soul friends, and lovers. And it came from the Holy Spirit, opening scripture to me, opening my heart and mind, and releasing me from the whitewashed tombs of doctrines that no longer resonate.

If it were up to us to “come to God,” our faith would be a matter of earning things. Being good enough would matter. Being smart enough would matter. Getting our act together would matter. God would only be for the spiritual ones, the healthy ones, the good ones. You’d have to know something or have something or be something in order for you to come to God.

So the Christian tradition says that God made the first move. The Christian tradition tells us God gave the Son, so that we would realize that we are already forgiven of our misguided attempts to follow God. Then God gave the Spirit at Pentecost, so that we would have the power and the courage and the strength to begin and continue our journey.

When we draw near to God, it’s because God drew near first. When we reach out to God, it’s because God reached out first. When we love God, it’s only because God loved us first. The Holy Spirit, God’s continuing presence in us and among us, is proof that we don’t come to God without God’s first coming to us.

We need to understand that we’re harder to find than God is. We hide from God. We hide behind our image of having it all together. We hide behind criticism and condemnation, because we won’t forgive ourselves. We hide behind masks because we think God would be displeased if God really knew our thoughts. No, you don’t look for God. God’s not lost. You are.

Might I suggest that you simply let God love you. Rejoice in the fact that because of Pentecost, we have God’s Spirit living inside us, the same Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead—resurrection power at our fingertips. Let’s let ourselves be found by God, but watch out! God will huff, and puff, and blow your house in”! Then God will help you build a whole new one.