I am not sure why, as a child and much of my early adulthood, I pictured God somewhere, up there, in heaven. I seemed to nurture pictures of
heaven and all its wonderment as that which spatially exists "above,"
while I and all of my worries exist here "below." While this may
simply illustrate my need for metaphors in learning to relate to the
world around me, there is also biblical imagery that seems to authenticate the
portrayal. Sketching out the God who exists beyond all I know, the writers
of Scripture describe the divine throne as "high and
lofty," the name of the LORD as existing above all names. Yet, some of the time I find even metaphors are misleading, when they cease to point beyond themselves.
Though the Scriptures use the language and imagery of loftiness, I've noticed over the years that their pronouncement of God's existence as far more than
something "above." Hasn't the Incarnation, which I'm still celebrating, radically
erased the likeness of a distant God? And haven't I been excitedly stricken recently by
the message that's been coming again and again in every avenue of my life - marriage to gluing up a board. From reading to music? Bill, the kingdom of God is around you!
Over the years, I've been confronted with many objections to Christianity, but
there is one that stands out in my mind that is particularly troubling. I'm not pointing fingers when I say my faith tradition
added somewhat too it. That is; the
argument that to be a "good" Christian boy is to withdraw from the
world around me, to follow Bible stories with a wishful heart and a myth that
insisted I not stop thinking and believing that all will be right in the end because
God says so. It was in such a vein that Karl Marx depicted Christianity as a
kind of drug that anesthetizes its consumers to the suffering in the world and
the wretchedness of life. Sigmund Freud argued similarly that belief in God
functions as an infantile dream that helps one evade the pain and helplessness both
felt and seen all around. Now, it's not that I find these critiques and others
like them troubling because I'm finding them an accurate picture of the kingdom
Jesus described. Rather I'm finding them extremely troubling because I've been
prone, so many times, to live as if Freud and Marx are quite right in their analyses.
I been realizing more than ever that I've lived in a tight box and a minimalist
spiritual life, living comfortably as if in my own world, intent to tell my
feel-good stories while withdrawing from the harder scenes of life, content to
view the kingdom of God as a world far away from the present and the rooms of
heaven as mere futuristic promises. To many times I've seen the kingdom as the
place I was journeying toward, the better country of which the writer of Hebrews
describes. I am confronted more and more by my conscious of building chasms
that stand between kingdom and earth, today and tomorrow, the physical and the
spiritual, my believing world and the world of neighbors. I've noticed in
the last few years, subconsciously, the earth is something fleeting and
irrelevant. Kind of like: one more
commodity here for my use, like the shampoo, hand cream bottle or shower cap the hotel provides in
their bathroom; all the while Christ is away preparing my permanent room.
I'm convinced that these chasms I've allowed not only provided a posture irresponsible
for abundant life and love of my neighbors, they betray the identity and decree
of the Good Creator my faith professes. The stories Jesus left the world
with are so much more than wishful thinking; His proclamations of a kingdom here and now are
far from permissions of escapism. Furthermore, to view the world around me as a
temporary place negates the words of, I would think, any Christian's most sacred prayer. Jesus taught His
followers to pray: God's kingdom come,
God's will be done—on earth as it is in heaven. What does it mean that Christ repeatedly
declared the kingdom of God as here and now all around me? What does it mean that
for lack of human praise the very rocks will cry out at the glory of their
creator while the trees will clap their hands? Far from being a non-spiritual,
kingdom-irrelevant commodity, the earth is filled with rooms of faith,
staircases and ladders that assure a constant traffic between heaven and earth,
rooms of a good kingdom now seen in part and one day to be seen in full. Surely
the Lord is in this place; how often is it simply that I'm not aware of it? If I'm going to take Christ's proclamations of the kingdom seriously, I've got to intentionally live as though I'm in the house of God, here and now.
Yes, Bill, you do believe at your deepest level that there are eternal dwellings, in the day when tears will be no more, and in the One Who is preparing a house of many rooms. And yet, you live with your personal, unique experience of these promises here and now. Neither Christ nor the kingdom He came to make known is a static entity, something that mattered long ago and might matter once again but not today amidst the world as you know it! On the contrary, all of history, the stories of salvation, and the Incarnation itself, declare that your God is far more hands-on than what your five senses experience.
Yes, Bill, you do believe at your deepest level that there are eternal dwellings, in the day when tears will be no more, and in the One Who is preparing a house of many rooms. And yet, you live with your personal, unique experience of these promises here and now. Neither Christ nor the kingdom He came to make known is a static entity, something that mattered long ago and might matter once again but not today amidst the world as you know it! On the contrary, all of history, the stories of salvation, and the Incarnation itself, declare that your God is far more hands-on than what your five senses experience.
Father, God, I give praise
and thanksgiving for the fact that Your Son, Jesus the Christ is not merely the
One who will be near me in all eternity but that He is right here, all around
me in this world, today, reigning in a kingdom that is both present and
approaching, going out into the depths of cities and neighborhoods that His
house may be filled like Luke said in his gospel. I commit this moment to live
as one aware of the house I live in, ready for the ladders that extend between
heaven and earth, and anxious to invite the world inside. Amen
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