Category Archives: Christian World View

There once was an avid duck hunter who was looking for a new bird dog.

He looked everywhere for just the right dog. He finally found him.

“This dog is very special,” said the seller. “Watch this”. With that, the man threw a stick in a nearby pond. The dog marched out to retrieve the stick – walking on the water.

Knowing his friends would never believe him, the hunter bought the dog and planned a hunting trip with an old buddy who was, by nature, a cynical, hard to please pessimist.

On the appointed day, the two men hid in a blind until a flock of ducks flew over. They fired and a duck fell in the water. The dog jumped and headed out to retrieve the bird but instead of sinking, he simply walked out on the water and brought the duck to shore.

Nothing more than his paws were wet.

The man’s friend didn’t say a word and acted as if nothing unusual had happened.

On the drive home, the proud owner was curious.

“Did you notice anything in particular about my new dog?” he asked.

“Yep, sure did,” the friend replied. “He can’t swim”.

To cease to be thankful is to put our heart and mind on automatic pilot.

As Robert Louis Stevenson put it, “not to be thankful is to fall asleep in life”.

Our pressures and problems have blocked out our awareness of the mercy, kindness and grace of God in our lives. In place of gratitude comes a sense of entitlement. We presume upon the mercies he gives us every moment of every day. We may even think subconsciously we are owed this; we come to expect it. We are no longer in wonder and awe of the natural world God has created for us.

We are unimpressed with God.

Our focus is on what we need, what we want and what we must do. It is no longer on what God has done for us and what he has given us.

When we stop and think of God’s blessings; when we consider his mercies and his kindness then we begin to more clearly see all he has done and all he is still doing for us.

It’s then that we begin to count our blessings. And then we thank God.

We get re-impressed with God.

Thinking and thanking are the peas and carrots of the Christians life.

Before we can be grateful we must take stock of our lives. Before we can take stock of our lives we must think. And before we can think we must stop and take time to think. We rush through life too quickly to be thankful as we should. Our thinking is too preoccupied with the burdens of the day and the pressures of the week.

We don’t thank because we don’t think to thank.

Thankfulness is a discipline; it is an attitude that must be cultivated. It is a perspective that must become a habit and to become a habit it must be practiced. That requires a conscious effort.

It takes time well spent.

Gratitude does not come naturally, especially in the 21st-century.

Everything around us conspires to make us less than thankful. The things of this world make us anxious, envious and discouraged; they seldom make us thankful. To be truly thankful is to think beyond ourselves and our circumstances; beyond our wants and ambitions.

Sometimes we just make it too hard for God to impress us with his goodness.

This is not God’s fault, who daily blesses us with benefits. His faithfulness is great and his mercies are new every morning. The problem is with us – with a heart that does not feel toward God as it should and a mind that is not focused on God and his many blessings.

We are not observant of God.

We become too distracted by the things, the worries and the concerns of this world and our living in it. We rush about and never notice the sunrise, the sunset and the stars and the moon that God has painted in the sky.

Maybe we spend too much time indoors and not enough outdoors.

We are too easily impacted by fabrications and not enough by the divine created order. We take too much for granted and contemplate too little.

It took time for the apostle Paul to realize that the very “thorn in the flesh” he pleaded with God to remove was in fact a blessing of God’s grace. From God’s point of view it was not a disadvantage but an advantage. It was not a bane, it was a blessing.

It was not a weakness, it was a strength.

Since Paul prayed to God on three separate occasions for this physical restriction to be removed it took Paul time to think about this and to arrive at the same conclusion. It wasn’t automatic or natural (II Corinthians 12:7-10).

This was God’s will and it ended up ultimately strengthening Paul’s faith, his relationship with God and his gratitude for the blessings of God and God’s grace, which Paul discovered was more than sufficient.

It was Paul who wrote that we must not let the world force us into its mold of entitlement and ingratitude. We must break the mold by letting God transform our minds – to think anew. Only then can we see God, this world and ourselves as we ought to see them – through the eyes of faith.

Only then can we be impressed with what should impress us.

And only then can we learn what it means to be truly thankful. Every attitude is a formed and disciplined habit. This includes the attitude of gratitude.

God, help us to cultivate thankfulness in the garden of our souls; in the fields of our heart and mind.

Help us to be impressed with you.

Help us to be in awe.

It was scary.

It was nothing any sane person would ever think of trying.

It wasn’t safe.

No practical, reasonable, and thoughtful man or woman would dare do it. It made absolutely no sense. Had studies existed on such an attempt, they would have been clear in their consensus.

It wasn’t prudent – not by a long shot.

You just don’t get out of a boat in the middle of the sea in the midst of a storm. And try to walk on water. Besides, it was dark.

Peter, what in the world were you thinking?

Matthew tells us about this in his gospel account; Mark omits it. At around 3:00AM, Jesus was coming toward the disciples, walking on the water. Understandably terrified by what they thought was a ghost, the men heard a familiar voice. Jesus told them three things immediately (Matthew 14: 27, NLT):

“Don’t be afraid.”

“Take courage.”

“I am here.”

Banish fear, buck up, you know who I am. That wasn’t quite enough for Peter – nor probably for his comrades, who sat soaked and cold, shivering in their sandals.

“Then Peter called to him, ‘Lord, if it’s really you, tell me to come to you, walking on the water.’” (Matthew 14: 28, NLT).

“Lord, if…”

Doubt often precedes faith and, by its contrast, defines it. Without comparing it to doubt, how would we know what real faith was? So Peter begins with some skepticism, as we all must. Jesus accepts Peter’s wager with one word:

“Come”

Was it an invitation – or a challenge? Peter had doubts, Jesus had none. Peter didn’t know for sure what he would do, he didn’t know for sure who Jesus was and he didn’t know for sure what would happen if  he got out of the boat.

Jesus knew – for sure.

We start with doubt. Then Jesus invites us to do something. He challenges us to trust him and to act on that trust. What he tells us to do may be just as improbable, just as impractical and just as fearful as asking a man to get out of a boat and start walking on water in the middle of a violent storm.

Peter obeyed.

His friends looked at each other. “He’s crazy!”

He left the security of the boat, stepped out onto the troubled Sea of Galilee and began to walk toward Jesus. Peter began well and we’re proud of him. But almost immediately the winds whiplashed Peter’s faith. He had seen Jesus but now “he saw the wind boisterous” (vs.30, KJV).  Circumstances, not Christ, became his focus.

“He saw the wind…”

All Peter could see was what surrounded him – “the strong wind and the waves” – and “he was terrified and began to sink. ‘Save me, Lord!’ he cried.” (vs. 29-30, NLT). Jesus reached out his hand and pulled Peter up. He might have smiled and gently shaken his head when he said to Peter, “You have so little faith, why did you doubt me?” (vs. 31).

Have the circumstances of your life ever undermined the moorings of your faith and cast you into a churning sea of doubt? Have you ever felt like you were sinking beneath the waves of a bleak uncertainty? Have you ever cried out to God at 3:00 AM and shouted “Save me, Lord”?

If life has ever seemed less than serene, then perhaps you can identify with Peter.

As followers of Christ, we sometimes feel as though we’re in a little boat tossed upon the wide, uncertain sea of life.  The howling winds of adversity blow against us and the angry waves of circumstance break upon us. We are confused and frightened. It’s dark and we can’t see much. Then we see Jesus and he bids us “come.”

He invites us to get out of the boat. To let go of whatever we’re clutching in a false security.

In that moment we must choose between fear and trust.  They argue within our soul.

Fear says, “Stay in.” Trust says, “Step out.”

Fear says, “Why?” Trust says, “Why not?”

Fear says, “I’m on my own.” Trust says, “I’m in God’s hands.”

Fear asks, “What if…?” Trust answers, “So what?”

Fear says, “Impossible!” Trust answers, “Not with God!”

Two choices. Two attitudes. Two ways of living. Jesus tells us, “Come.” And even when we do and even when we doubt and even when we look around and begin to sink, Jesus reaches out his hand of grace and lifts us up again to himself. And he smiles at us and says, “Why did you doubt me?”

Only two men in recorded history have ever walked on water. One was God, the other was a man called Peter. But before he did – and before he could – Peter had to get out of the boat. So do you.

It may be a crazy thing to do but sometimes faith is like that.

May God bless you and your family.

Tommy’s a cute kid.

He didn’t seem threatening.

But today you just can’t be too cautious.

True defenders of the faith can brook no quarter to disbelief.  After all, who knows what evil lurks there?

So when little Tommy, a second-grader at an Indiana elementary school, told his classmates that he didn’t believe in God, his teacher ordered him to sit alone during lunch – for three days.  He was further instructed not to speak to any other students.

This imposed isolation was because, the teacher insisted, Tommy’s views on religion “offended them.”

Tommy’s parents filed a lawsuit.

One wonders what seven-year-old Tommy may have thought of all this. Before he was banished to solitary as an infidel by his Christian school teacher, she interrogated him on his views, his parents’ beliefs and why he didn’t go to church.

Tommy asked what he had done wrong. When he got home he cried.

When he’s a 25-year-old atheist and is asked why, Tommy will tell this story about his first impression of practical Christianity.  He’ll remember the hurt, his “offended” classmates and a cruel teacher who thought she was doing Jesus a favor.

Sadly ironic but often true, Christians help to explain a lot of atheism. We defend ourselves with the excuse that we’re “only human”. This is an unpersuasive way of saying that our faith has no real impact on how we live or treat others. We hold forth on theology, prophecy and politics but struggle with the simple Golden Rule. We practice a selective ethic that invites hypocrisy. We prioritize sin in others, ignore it in ourselves and thank God we’re not like other losers and miscreants.

Not all Christians are like this of course. Hopefully, you’re not. But I am sometimes.

Like Paul the apostle I make it my chief ambition to know Christ and realize to my shame how little I do. And like the man once named Saul, I too struggle, doing things I wish I hadn’t and failing to do those things I know I should.

“And I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature” (Romans 7:18, NLT). With him, I cry in frustration, “who shall deliver me from this body of death?” (Romans 7: 24, KJV).

“…from this life that is dominated by sin … “(NLT).

God’s grace has saved us all. In his infinite mercy he puts up with even the best of us. Our finest moments, if and when they come, are all because of him – and nothing in ourselves. We’ve no cause to glory in the filthy rags of our self-righteousness but only in the unfathomable riches of the abounding grace that chose us when we were lost; helpless and hopeless.

We were wretched, undesirable and unworthy sinners.

You and I haven’t gotten what we deserved. We’ve received what we couldn’t earn, had no right to expect and didn’t deserve.

If we would only remember that more than we do, it would make a difference in how we see ourselves and how we look at others, especially those who are not like us.  It seems that if we would correct our theology we’d improve our attitude.

What an opportunity to show the love of Christ that teacher missed. What a lesson could have been taught to the other students. What an impact could have been made on the life of a confused and uncertain child.

Children are impressionable and sometimes those impressions – for good or for bad – are written with indelible ink. They remain in the heart and mind and on the soul. Teachers, of all people, leave lasting impressions. I still remember those who showed kindness and patience to me when I was Tommy’s age.

Don’t you?

Kindness is so powerful. One cannot read the thirteenth chapter of Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians or his listing of the fruits of the Spirit in his letter to the Galatians without noticing the pulsating theme of kindness. Those qualities of character that Paul says define us as Christians are all variants of human kindness.  They find their root and their blossom in this simple but too often elusive virtue.

You’ll search in vain for a self-assertive trait.

Only a kind person can know love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, and faithfulness. Only someone who is genuinely kind will also be gentle and self-controlled.

It is kindness that conquerors more often than courage and conviction. Paul says you and I may exhibit all manner of heroic deeds; we may sacrifice everything and know everything but without love we are nothing.

The hymn writer and clergyman Frederick William Faber was right when he observed that “kindness has converted more sinners than zeal, eloquence or learning.”

How many have found the door of faith bolted by cruelty but opened wide by charity?

Kindness can make all the difference in the world.

Especially, perhaps, in the heart of a little atheist.

May God bless you and your family.

Richard Eggers was a law-abiding man. He always had been.

So one can only imagine his shock.

Mr. Eggers was 68 years old. He had been employed as a customer service representative with Wells Fargo Home Mortgage in Des Moines, Iowa. He did his job well and everyone liked him.

Then Eggers was summarily fired. His offense?

Back in 1963, when he was nineteen, Eggers inserted a fake dime into laundry machine. The local sheriff, who apparently had witnessed the crime, arrested him and he was charged with “operating a coin-changing machine by false means.” Sentenced to fifteen days in jail, Eggers served two and was released to return to college. He also paid a fifty dollar fine and the case was closed.

Until nearly a half century later.

You see, Richard Eggers wasn’t a law-abiding citizen after all – not technically. When his criminal wrong-doing finally caught up with him, his decades-old teenage prank cost him more than a dime.  It cost him his job.

Wells Fargo, following an understandable outcry that went suddenly viral, stuck to its guns – and the letter of the law:

“We understand the outpouring of concern for Mr. Eggers and we want people to know that we take this matter very seriously,” the company said in a statement.

“Wells Fargo is an insured depository institution, a global bank, bound by U.S. Federal law to protect our customers and their personal financial information from someone who we know has committed an act of dishonesty or breach of trust – regardless of when the incidents occurred. It is uncomfortable, but it is a law that we have to follow. We have the responsibility to avoid hiring or continuing to employ someone who we know has a criminal record.”

This is the law – no exceptions – not even for a man reformed from his youthful “act of dishonesty”.  Richard Eggers’ past may have been distant and his infraction minor but Wells Fargo’s high standards would never be breached by “someone who we know has a criminal record.”

God’s standards exceed even those of Wells Fargo Bank. He cannot tolerate sin; his eyes cannot even look upon it. His righteousness and holiness can brook no transgression – not even a kid stealing ten cents from a laundry mat fifty years ago.

The Bible is explicit: “The soul that sinneth, it shall die.” (Ezekiel 18:4, KJV).  Paul tells us that we all have sinned and have fallen short of God’s unapproachable glory (Romans 3:23). He also says that God’s law – perfect and uncompromising – serves to place us and our sinful past – no matter what and when it was – under a withering indictment from which there is neither escape nor excuse. “No one can ever be made right with God by doing what the law commands. The law simply shows us how sinful we are.” (Romans 3:20, NLT).

The scriptures are clear: the law cannot save, it can only condemn.

Yet our past need not come back to haunt us. We’ll never lose heaven because of something God will discover about the record of our lives. There is hope. When we place our faith in his Son Jesus Christ and his finished work on the cross and we trust in him to forgive the sins of our past, God does more than forgive – he forgets.

“For I will be merciful to their unrighteousness, and their sins … will I remember no more” (Hebrews 8:12, KJV).

Some people neither forgive nor forget. We can struggle also to forgive ourselves and our memories harass us. Satan is always dredging up our past and whispering condemnation, trying to rob us of peace and joy. He’ll throw up every last fake dime in our face.

In his grace, God does the opposite.

The prophets write of a God who “delights to show mercy” and who “will again have compassion on us” and “tread our sins underfoot and hurl all our iniquities into the depths of the sea.” (Micah 7:18-19, NIV).

Before his throne you are declared innocent.

God will never conduct an excavation or a background check. He knows. He forgives. He forgets. Our records are not just sealed, they’re expunged.

David wrote with confidence out of his own tragic experience with sin when he declared that God’s love is as great as heaven is high and that “as far as the east is from the west, so far hath he removed our transgressions from us.” (Psalm 103: 11-12, KJV).

Dramatically delivered from his own abundant and blotted past, Paul asks:

“Who dares accuse us who God himself has chosen for his own? No one – for God himself has given us right standing with himself. Who then will condemn us? No one – for Christ Jesus died for us and was raised to life for us, and he is sitting in the place of honor at God’s right hand, pleading for us.” (Romans 8:33-34, NLT).

Our Advocate pleads our case.

Nothing – not even a fifty year- old fake dime – can ever condemn us before the presence of a just God who remembers our sins no more.

When we come to him, confess our sin and seek his forgiveness, God clears the record.

Case closed

May God bless you and your family.

Meghan Vogel, as far as anyone knew, was just your typical high school student.

What she did, however, was anything but typical.

It was extraordinary.

Meghan, from West Liberty, Ohio, had already won the 1600-meter state track championship. Trailing in the 3200-meter race, Meghan saw another runner collapse ahead of her. She could have seen a rival’s fall as an opportunity to gain an advantage. Instead, she saw it as an opportunity to care. Meghan helped Arden McMath to her feet. She then placed Arden’s limp arm around her neck and she supported her until together they crossed the finish line.

Meghan was modest in her heroism. “I knew any girl on that field would do that for me,” she said, “so I was going to do that for Arden.”

It’s a simple premise – and a simple faith.

A youth willing to put her idealism into selfless practice is always inspiring. One may only hope that Meghan doesn’t become jaded when she enters a sometimes ruthless world where dogs still devour other dogs. After all, it’s newsworthy when we see the Golden Rule put to the test. And it’s just another day when we see it trampled.

Self-interest is the norm. We expect it. Self-denial is the exception. We’re amazed by it.

For centuries, theologians and philosophers have argued that Jesus couldn’t possibly have thought that people would actually try and live by his Sermon on the Mount. How realistic is it to think that people – even Christ’s own followers – would recognize their spiritual poverty and mourn over it, live in humility and meekness, hunger and thirst for justice, seek purity of heart and show mercy to others? Is Jesus really expecting his disciples to control their anger, forgive others, love their enemies and trust God for all their needs?

That’s great for heaven someday – but not for the here and now.

The here and now is for the pursuit of satisfaction and happiness, not idealism.

Look after yourself. This is what the world teaches us every day.

Even life in the church tells us quite often that Jesus’ most famous sermon is viewed as more pie in the sky than food for the soul. The Sermon on the Mount is certainly beautiful. It’s just not very practical.

The problem with this thinking – especially within the Body of believers called the church – is that the entire New Testament commands us, through the power of the Holy Spirit working in us, to live out the Sermon on the Mount. The Bible tells us plainly that we must flesh out, in very realistic and practical ways, this whole business.  The teaching and preaching of Jesus is clearly intended to directly impact how we live and how we treat others.

If it doesn’t, then we aren’t his followers.

Over and over again we are told to “love one another”. Jesus said this was his “new commandment” (John 13:34). He went so far to say that this was the single, truest, most visible sign of our genuine faith. “By this will all men know that you are my disciples.”(John 13:35, KJV, emphasis added).

Love is the mark of the Christian.

Paul tells us that we are to be “devoted to one another”, to “honor one another” and to “live in harmony with one another.” (Romans 12: 10,16, NLT). Paul was as absolute about this as Jesus was. “Let no debt remain,” he wrote to the Romans, “except the continuing debt to love one another. If you love your neighbor, you will fulfill the requirements of God’s law.” (Romans 13:8, NLT).

It doesn’t stop with the command to love. The Bible goes on to define what love is and how it is shown.

Practically speaking and practically living.

We’re told to “agree with one another,”  “accept one another”, “serve one another”, “be patient with one another” ,  “carry one another’s burdens”,  “support the weak”, “submit to one another”, “encourage one another”, “be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other…” and to “live in harmony with one another.” (I Cor.1:10; Romans 15:7; Galatians 5:13; Ephesians 4:2; Galatians 6:2; I Thessalonians 5:14; Ephesians 5:21; Hebrews 3:13; Ephesians 4:32; Romans 12:16).

The New Testament is the practical owner’s manual for the Sermon on the Mount.

It pulsates with rubber-meets-the-road living.

All this “one-anothering” is what made the first church in Jerusalem the exciting, dynamic and vital organism that turned the world upside down.  It’s what gives flesh and blood to Christianity today.

Practice more than profession; living more than telling. It’s what the non-follower wants to see in you and me.

When an early believer stumbled and fell on the track, someone else cared enough to stop, pick her up, put her arm around her shoulder and help her cross the finish line.

It’s always been true.

What Meghan Vogel did is what we need to do – for “one another” – at every opportunity God gives us.

How should we live?

Let’s get practical.

May God bless you and your family.

It was quiet in the room.

There were ominous signs.

Events would soon overwhelm them and strike fear and confusion into their hearts.

The men glanced at each other but tried to conceal their anxiety.

This night was special. One that none of these men would ever forget.

Three years of an incredible journey had led to this. They would write about it; about him; about what they had seen and heard and handled.

They would never be the same. Neither would the world.

They would die for this – for him.

Jesus looked intently at the men around the table. He knew it was just the beginning. He would entrust all but one with the building of his church and the advancement his kingdom.

He had spoken to them that night with words of steel and velvet. Before supper he had washed their feet and set an example. He said that one of them would betray him, another would deny him. He told them he was going to leave them and they would not be able to come.

Not tonight. Not for a while.

He told them to love each other, that by doing this they would prove to the world the authenticity of their faith and their loyalty to him.

Whatever they were thinking by this time is hard to imagine. There was a moment of silence.

Then Jesus smiled. He knew what they were thinking and he knew what they were facing.

He loved these men. He had chosen each of them to be in his band of brothers. It was a band that before this night was over would be stretched but in the end even the gates of hell itself would not break it. Time and persecution would only serve to strengthen it.

Jesus had much more to say to them. He would tell them about the Holy Spirit, about the vine and the branches, about the world’s hatred and how, in the end, their sadness would be turned to joy.

But now he wanted to offer them hope and encouragement.

Reading their anxious spirits, Jesus told them, “Let not your heart be troubled” (John 14:1, KJV). If you believe in God, he said, believe in me.

Why?

Because he would defeat Rome?

Because he spoke the truth?

Because he would give them political victory?

Because he would defeat ISIS, Planned Parenthood and gay marriage?

Because he had all power?

Because right would inevitably triumph over wrong and good would defeat evil?

No. None of these.

“I go to prepare a place for you” (14:2, KJV).

This was the comfort he offered these men on this night of crisis.

Jesus spoke of a place.

It was a beautiful and wonderful place; a place that human eyes had never seen. It was a special and specific place filled with breathtaking glory and unimaginable happiness; a land of unspeakable joy and endless wonder.

“In my Father’s house,” Jesus told them, “are many mansions” (verse 2).

Years later, on his island of exile, the aged apostle John jangled together all manner of strange and conflicting metaphors as he tried desperately to describe the magnificence of his vision; the sights and sounds he experienced.

Words failed him – and they fail us – but they were all he had.

In the end, sadness, sickness and even death itself were all destroyed. John saw a new heaven and also a new earth – an earth spotless and perfected in all its glorious splendor.

The most spectacular places you’ve ever seen, multiplied by ten thousand.

And God wiped away all tears forever.

In this land we’ll never grow old. We’ll never have to say goodbye. We won’t go home – we’ll be home. No clocks, no calendars, no endings and no partings.

Timeless glory.

Heaven?  Can’t wait!

We struggle and persevere in this world and in this life; we stand and we fight and we vote. We care deeply. We resist evil and pursue justice – not because we think heaven will come to this fallen and dying world – it won’t. This present world, shrouded in darkness and shackled by sin, is sick and doomed. It is passing away.

Some day it will perish. No nuclear deal will prevent that.

You and I live in hope. We work and pray for renewal and change right now because we know that every day leads us closer to our final destiny, to our continuing city, to our Beulah land.

To this place Jesus is preparing for us and has promised us.

We’re not marching on Washington. We’re marching to Zion, “beautiful, beautiful Zion”

As Paul reminded us, because of the hope of our glorious future, “your labor is not in vain in the Lord” (I Corinthians 15:58, KJV).

Jesus told his disciples that night that he would come back and get them.

“When everything is ready, I will come and get you so that you will always be with me where I am” (John 14:3, NLT, emphasis added).

He’s coming back for you and me too.

When our hearts are troubled, as they so often are these days, let’s listen to his whisper:

“Don’t worry. I’ve gone to prepare a place for you.”

May God bless you and your family.

Through the dark woods the little boy ran.

As fast as his skinny legs would take him he ran. Through the gullies and up the hills; across the streams and over the fields he breathlessly scurried on.

His heart beat faster and faster. Fear raced through him like a freight train. He dared only once to glance back at the giant vicious predator. The bear was closing on the lad, his fierce growls of hunger growing louder as he pursued his tiny prey.

The boy finally reached the place of no return – and no escape.

He was cornered.

The little boy closed his eyes tight. The bear leaped on him from behind and gave a menacing final growl.

Then just as suddenly, the bear released the little boy from his powerful grasp. The boy squirmed out and jumped to his feet and turned to face the bear. The boy giggled and ran into the bear’s strong limbs.

“I love you Daddy!” he gleefully exclaimed.

Hugging him tight, the dad smiled and whispered, “I love you too, son.”  Taking the boy’s little hand in his, the father walked his son out of the bedroom.

Game over.

How comforting to know that the menacing bear you imagine pursuing you is really your loving father. Your unfounded fear melts away in the warm embrace of the one who would never harm you because he loves you more than you’ll ever know.

After all, he’s your father.

When Francis Thompson first published his iconic poem, The Hound of Heaven, many readers were at first startled at the metaphor of God as a relentlessly pursuing animal. But when studied and understood, the comparison pulsates with a passionate beauty. The poem is the story of God’s determined persistence in the face of our stubborn and foolish resistance. We try to run and hide, but we can’t.

God chases us “down the nights and down the days … down the arches of the years …” We continually flee “from this tremendous Lover”, Thompson writes. Until, in time and circumstance, God corners us with his love. And we surrender, not into the grip of a ravenous hound, but into the arms of a compassionate and merciful God, who loved us all along.

 After all, He’s our Father.

When Jesus first addressed the Almighty Creator of the universe, shrouded in sovereign, inscrutable mystery, as “Our Father”, the Jews were unaccustomed to such Deistic intimacy. Nor were the gods of other religions any more approachable.

People perceived a menacing bear, a hungry hound, perhaps, but not “Our Father.”

Still, Jesus pressed the analogy.

“You fathers,” Jesus said, “if your children ask for a fish, do you give them a snake instead? Or if they ask for an egg, do you give them a scorpion? Of course not! So if you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?” (Luke 11:11-13, NLT, emphasis added).

We all want to be good parents. Most of us believe we are, whatever else we may be. Is not God our Father capable of being so much more to those who commit themselves to his care?

That’s the point Jesus is making, not only in his Sermon on the Mount, but throughout his teaching and his stories – throughout his brief life on this earth: God is our merciful and loving Father. Yes, he will punish us, he will correct us, he will test us and he will teach us. But the one thing he will never do is hate us.

Why then do we so often fear him and flee from him? Why are we tempted in our sorrow and pain and suffering to see God as a cruel, vindictive or, at best, indifferent Sovereign?

God loves you and me perfectly. John tells us that “there no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear.” (I John 4:18, NKJV).

John wraps up our relationship with God into the arms of the Divine loving nature:

“We have come to know and have believed the love which God has for us. God is love, and the one who abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him.” (I John 4:16, NASB, emphasis added).

This is much more than a lovely esoteric concept; it is a life-altering reality for the one who believes.

The Bible is nothing more – and nothing less – than the story of our Father’s abiding presence, his faithful provision and his unfailing protection. The essence of its panoramic display – cover to cover- is the Father’s unchanging, unconditional and endless love.

CS Lewis, in The Chronicles of Narnia, consistently portrays the lion Aslan – the Christ figure – as neither tame nor safe but always good.

I don’t know why God should love me. I truly don’t. But I know he does, despite my occasional misgivings. It is his nature to love me. And as Paul reminded Timothy: “he cannot deny who he is.” (II Timothy 2:13, NLT).

After all, he is my Father.

“God is love.” This is the summation of his nature.

In this central, undeniable and incontrovertible truth is our hope – both now and forever.

He’s our “tremendous Lover.”

May God bless you and your family.