The Reasons Why

When you have no hope, when you believe that, “in the end, nothing really matters,” when all you have is now, when there is no difference, when all the vibrant sparkling colors of the world come together like mud, when your cells are pulled toward equilibrium like the heart of a man pulls his body toward the precipice, when you are so lost the feeling of falling is like coming home, when your eyes glaze over and your ears hear sounds from another place, when there is no meaning, when there is no truth, when your heart has given up, then you are ready to bring death.

—Ryan Hunt

Proverbs 29:18 Where there is no revelation, people cast off restraint; but blessed is the one who heeds wisdom's instruction.

Deuteronomy 30:19 This day I call the heavens and the earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live.

The Great Context

It seems impossible at times—to be anything other than a statistic. The world is working on that, you know? making you a statistic, that is. It is one of our most ambitious goals—to conquer our biochemical makeup down to every last atom, to manipulate it, to completely pars the human existence and experience—to make ourselves nothing while somehow claiming to be everything, even the creators of meaning.

We take “beautiful pictures,” collections of various combinations of red green and blue (RGB) displayed on our screens. But when we look at them do we see more than pixels? We interpret those images based on a context in our memories, things we have learned like the smell of an ocean breeze, the piercing cold frost in winter, and the feeling of a warm kiss. But science says even that can all be reduced to numbers. All of your memories, emotions, chemical combinations, decision making algorithms, according to a scientistic world view, can be laid out as numbers—reducing us all to data. But data by itself is meaningless. Having more numbers does not help the situation. Coding the RGB pixels on your screen to the data stored in your memory and trying to make meaning is ultimately as futile as the attempt to make five, six, and seven achieve meaning without a context. Context cannot arise from a finite thing; it is the finite that is evaluated against the eternal. In other words, if we are finite, then any meaning we achieve can only be in relation to a thing outside of us, and that thing must itself be infinite, not just infinite but eternal, the I Am.  

Again, if we can be reduced to numbers then our only hope for meaning is outside of us; yet hope itself—meaningless. But if we cannot be reduced to numbers, if there is something more within us, eternity, then we begin to take on the likeness of God. In His likeness we love. In the image of Him we create. And by His being we have meaning.  

It is not uncommon for us all to live in contradiction.  As Chesterton observed, we must all embrace both the known and the mysterious to keep our sanity, but the contradiction this world is living does not bring sanity. It brings sickness. It is a great contradiction; for if even the reflection of the eternal is in us, then we are not just numbers. If we exist there is a story, and that story is set in a context, and that context, the great and ultimate context, is not and cannot be just another set of data.

John 18:38 "What is truth?" retorted Pilate. With this he went out again to the Jews gathered there and said, "I find no basis for a charge against him.

John 14:6 Jesus answered, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.

Exodus 3:14 God said to Moses, "I AM WHO I AM. This is what you are to say to the Israelites: 'I AM has sent me to you.'"

Colossians 1:17 He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.

—reh

The Gravity of The Throne

Everything matters so much, and if we can make a difference we must. We can make a difference, right?  We take the bait. We sit in judgement on others. Maybe we’re better at double checking our baby’s car-seat or putting our baby to bed on her back.  We read the study because we care. If the science says it we do it. We don’t leave our kids in the car while we pay for our gas when the pump is broken. We wake them up and march them in with us. We can’t risk anything. We buy the video monitor so we can watch our children sleep because someone might steal them through the window. When someone else chooses the weak road we call CPS on them. And if a child is injured because their incompetent parent forgot to do something we put them in jail. Losing their child isn’t punishment enough. Living with the guilt of tragedy under a forever darkening sky isn’t enough. We must make them pay. There must be justice. What kind of a parent doesn’t dot every i and cross every t? People should only be allowed to be parents if they are ready to take responsibility for everything because we do. If we really try, we can protect all children. The world needs to be better, and we can make it better. When our sons can’t make it out the door to school because they’re too anxious we bring them in for medication. When they can’t focus we bring them in for medication. When they lose their temper and lash out at school the powers that be bring them to the emergency department for medication. When they lose control because they’re freaking out, and they’re stuck in a sweaty stinky little emergency room with other crazy people yelling down the hall, and they’re forced to wear psych scrubs, and all they have are video games and a coloring book—they become violent at the closest person, and they get strapped down to their bed for medication. But it’s not our fault. We did our job. We read the studies and they say it isn’t our fault. But there will be another study—just in time for us to end our lives wringing our hands—trying to find someone else to blame. We must find someone to blame. It’s all preventable. Everything bad can be prevented. It’s just a matter of finding who’s at fault. The gravity of the throne consumes us; it crushes our bones. When we are God there is nowhere to turn. Welcome to hell. 

—reh

The Children of His Child

You think you’ll have a few kids and just raise them the way you were raised, but of course you’ll do a few things different. You’ve learned a few things from your parent’s mistakes. Then it hits you, you are not your parents. And the circumstances of your childhood cannot be recreated. It’s a new world again. The struggles that formed your mind, will, and emotions do not exist anymore. Sure there are struggles, but they are different. Your children will not be you, and it’s scary. Not because you’re amazing, but because you survived. Looking back at the minefield you can’t believe you’ve made it this far. You realize some of the mistakes your parent’s made were used by God to build character in you. The struggles that once caused you to question God’s goodness now shine like waters of grace. And that is where you find peace. Though the world has gone mad—He has remained. His redemptive power does not end. He has called the children of his child. Humble yourself. Help them to hear his voice. Lift them up in prayer. Sing to them. Hold them up and hope. Hope in the one who has made himself known to you.

Origins—A Broken Dialogue

I am biased. 
I am captivated and persuaded by Christ Jesus. He is my hope, my salvation; he is the context that gives meaning to my experience and existence. How then should I treat the one who has laughed him off as a lunatic? Should I call him a liar? Cut off his ear? What then of my insight into the most excellent way? a love that always hopes, perseveres, and keeps no record of wrongs? And how can I call him a liar? Was I there when He “laid the foundations of the earth?” It’s hypocrisy. I call the man a liar, and then say, “you weren’t there to witness evilution so you can’t prove what you are teaching.” Neither can I prove what I would bleed to teach for God has said we must come to him by faith and not sight. I wasn’t there to observe the beginning, and if I was, could I have survived it? Do not think for a second that speaking the universe into existence was humdrum, safe or calculable by man. Whether there was blood at the birth of creation I do not know, but I know there was blood in its redemption. Whatever happened inside of God as he spoke it into being was neither cheap nor easy. The result was worth dying to save. I accept that Genesis really happened. One man says a day was millions of years, another says twenty-four hours, but it is unclear that those two numbers are literally, mathematically or physically incompatible with each other when God is the creator. Do not call the other man a liar or you may be guilty of sin. Do not call him an idiot. He has the image of God! Rather consider that all the most effective lies are mostly true or even completely “true” but divorced from the context so that both the believer and the unbeliever can be simultaneously deceived in different ways by the same information. Jesus said, “I am the way the truth and the life.” He is the truth, the context—the one by whom everything has its

meaning. In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Should I tell him how he did it or let his words speak for themselves? And how much worse to let this divide the body of Christ, for if we are divided where is Christ?

—reh

“It is the glory of God to conceal a matter; to search out a matter is the glory of kings” (Proverbs 25:2). 

"The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. 2 Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge." Psalm 19:1-2

"For he spoke, and it came to be; he commanded, and it stood firm." Psalm 33:9 

"And without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him." Hebrews 11:6"The Son is the radiance of God's glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things by his powerful word." Hebrews 1:3

https://youtu.be/nn4KFzX6Ywg

God, Particles, Peace

We want to understand.  We long for a way to explain everything. For the believer the answer is Jesus Christ. But the story doesn’t end there; that is where it begins—where we find him. We sit on his knee and look into his eyes. We see so much more than what we are—more than we can fathom.  He sacrifices himself to protect us from his own holiness.  We see him wounded.  We change. We start this journey with the final answer, and in his nail pierced hand we dive into an ocean that would otherwise consume us. He is there to put the context with what we see. The unbelieving dive headlong into the same ocean, but they do not know him; the meaning of everything is different—they too change. By the same information one man grows closer to the one whose love he knows while another grows colder. What will we find, do you suppose, in the God particle? Will it be of pure substance? A singular particle? Will it be the answer that explains everything? Will it tell us not only how, but why? I could weep. Are we the subjects of a cold reality where the answer to everything is a particle?  Never!  Those who are seeking to find the answer to everything in a particle will find only more questions for the universe stretches in both extremes of scale. So far have we gone into the heavens, and galaxy beyond galaxy laughs at us. We, in the image of God himself, have not only missed God, we have not understood ourselves. Looking back at us from the mirror a god fades to pixels—the sum of many small parts. But the parts never resolve. The data go on forever, leading the unbeliever into frantic death and the believer into a peaceful eternity.  Now, rightly answer, which one describes you? Has your faith weakened in the face of science? Have you forgotten who you are? Come back again. “Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in his wonderful face, and the things of earth will grow strangely dim, in the light of his glory and grace.”

Life—The Anticipation of Something Better

Life—the anticipation of something better, a child runs, wind, smiles, eyes, trust, love—it ends. Even if you catch it you must one day let it go again. The riches we have are so great I cannot think on them too much or their gravity consumes me. Which of my children could I lose and yet remain alive? But to hold riches as these so tightly brings only fear. No. They must be enjoyed as air—breath that comes in and goes out. And if it comes in again let it go with a prayer of thanks. These gifts so immense and myself so small—I cannot look into his eyes because I am undeserving. I am not big enough or strong enough to contain life when I catch him. Oh God, I am speechless; when you look at me I cannot look back. Give me the strength to endure your presence.

—reh