A Conversation with a Terrorist

This morning I had a thought.  I wondered what I would do if I lived in Watertown, Massachusetts.  I wondered what I would do if I ran into this 19-year-old young man who is responsible for so much death and destruction. 

What if we lived in a home there and answer a knock on the door.  It's a young man with a gun, who pushes his way inside.  He is injured and wants first aid.  You usher your children upstairs, to safety.  The young man promises not to hurt them if you help him.

You move him into your kitchen, get out your first aid supplies, and examine his wounds.  His face is set - obviously angry, obviously wild - but not afraid.  Part of your heart aches for him.  He's so young.  Does he have any idea what he's doing?  Does he understand that he has gone too far to come back?  Part of your heart, though, hates him.  Hates him for the turmoil he and his brother have caused.

You try to make him talk to you.  You ask him questions, but he will not answer.  His jaw is set tight, and his hard, angry eyes send you the message that he will not talk.  As you clean up the blood on his arms, his chest, your mind races and you pray for wisdom, for safety, for strength.

Finally you say, are you Muslim?  He nods.  You ask, why do you hate us?  He doesn't answer.  You try again.  Something in you needs to understand, to make sense of this.  So you say, who is your God?  He says, through teeth clenched with pain, There is no God but Allah. 

You ask again.  Why all of this?  Why the hate?  Why the murder of innocents?

Finally he reacts.  There are no innocents!

You push.  What about your brother?  Was he innocent?  He refuses to answer.  Did he need to die?  He says, everyone dies. 

Do you know you killed an innocent 8 year old boy?  He reacts.  There are no innocents!

What about your mother?  What about your father? 

He refuses to answer. 

You start to ask him another question and he shouts, Enough!  Enough!  No more talking.

You aren't a medical professional.  You clean up the blood as best you can, but you don't even know for sure what the problem is.  Was he shot?  Are these bullets?  Shrapnel?  You really don't know.  You tell him, I don't really know how to help you.  I've cleaned you up. I don't know what else to do. 

He stands up, grimacing.  You half expect a thank you, because you are so naïve to this kind of evil.  He stands for a moment, as if he is trying to decide what to do.  For the first time you notice a gun. 

You pray, and you are flooded with peace.  You pray for courage.  This could be your last chance.

God loves you, you say.  He stares at you, hard.  You are right that we are not innocent, you say.  We have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.  But he loves us anyway.  And he loves you.  And this path that you've chosen, it's not the path HE has chosen for you. 

He stares.  He jaw is clenched, his eyes are angry.  Shut up, he says.

You pray.  I will not shut up.  God loves you.  Even you.  Even now.   Stop this now and there may be a chance for you!

Shut up!  He screams.  He grabs his things and heads for the door.  At the door he hesitates, and your heart rejoices for an instant.  But he leaves, barreling out the door, running down the street. 

You lock the door.  You call for your children.  You turn to call the police.  And you wonder.

What if I had met him before all this happened? 
What if someone had told him that God loves him before he killed and wounded so many people?
What if I had had the opportunity to witness about the One True God last week?

Would I have done it?  Would I have noticed? 

As you call 911, your own heart both repents and rejoices and the tears flow as the adrenaline pulsates through your body.  Would you have noticed this boy a week ago?  Would you have talked to him about God?  Would you have seen his inner turmoil, slowed down, and stopped?

You can't help but wonder, how many opportunities have I missed? 

You can't help but pray, God - please - never ever let me miss an opportunity to tell others about you. 

Does God Cry?

I think I've changed my mind on my own personal theology.

This week has been overwhelming with bad news and tragedy.  First the bombings in Boston.  Then the letters filled with poison in D.C.  And now, this horrific fire and explosion in Texas. 

Are you, like me, wondering - what in the world is going on here?

I've said many times that God is not sitting on the sidelines of our lives, pacing up in heaven, wringing his hands with worry, wondering what will happen next.

No way.  God is beyond those things.  While he is capable of worry - he is capable of all things - since he is the one - the only one - who created all things, knows all things, is everywhere with everyone all the time - why should he worry?  God, my friends, has nothing to worry about!

So I haven't changed my mind about that. 

But I used to think that God doesn't grieve or cry, because of the reasons stated above. 

I think I have changed my mind about that!

There are a few reasons why.  First, we know that Jesus wept when his friend Lazarus died.  You can make the argument that while Jesus is God, he is also man, so maybe the weeping was a result of his humanness.  However, we know that while Jesus was fully man, he in no way sinned or ever did ANYTHING that would separate him from God the Father.

Second, in Romans 8:26, Paul says that God the Spirit intercedes for us with wordless groans.  Now, groaning does not seem like a happy emotion to me.  Seems like a metaphor for pain and mourning.  Seems like a cry to me.

So if God the Son cries, and God the Spirit cries, why couldn't God the Father cry? 

We are made in God's image, with his characteristics.  The Bible is full of advice about mourning, including when to mourn.  If God tells us to mourn, and we are like him, isn't it possible that he also mourns?

Finally, I know God.  I don't know everything about him, I'm still learning a lot.  But I've come to know him pretty well by now.  When tragedy strikes the creation he loves, is he so far removed from us that he doesn't feel our pain?  And just like we cry with each other, doesn't it make sense that God may join in on our tears?

The great conclusion about this is that while God may join in our sorrow, he doesn't become depressed.  He isn't incapacitated with grief.  He's never overwhelmed with emotions he cannot handle.  This is the one who created the emotions!  Of course he can handle them!

I say all this to hopefully bring comfort.  Our great big God knows us intimately, knows our hurts and fears, and he cares.  He walks beside us, feels our pain, shares our mourning.  That brings so much comfort to me! 

Reminds me of a song:

Does Jesus care when my heart is pained
Too deeply for mirth or song,
As the burdens press, and the cares distress,
And the way grows weary and long?

• Refrain:
  Oh, yes, He cares, I know He cares,
  His heart is touched with my grief;
  When the days are weary, the long nights dreary,
  I know my Savior cares.

 Does Jesus care when I’ve said “goodbye”
To the dearest on earth to me,
And my sad heart aches till it nearly breaks—
Is it aught to Him? Does He see?

Does God care?  Oh yes . . . He cares.

My God is Bigger

I wrote the following on the day of the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting on December 14.  I still feel the same way.

 

Watch out ... I'm preaching.

Evil is real. It exists in the form of Satan, also know as the devil, Lucifer. Good is also real. It exists in the form of God, his son, Jesus Christ, and in His Spirit.

Have no doubt. The enemy comes to kill, to steal, to destroy. He has done that today. But - hear me clearly, because I am not holding back - MY GOD IS BIGGER. I don't understand this world or its ways. But my God is bigger. Today is as dark as a day could be. But my God is bigger. Evil has run rampant today. And yet ... still ... my God is bigger.

Those who hope in the Lord will soar on wings, like eagles. Let us mourn with those who mourn. Let us cry genuine tears of compassion for those who have lost. But let us also hope in God, who is good. God, who is love. God, who is faithful and true.

There is real evil in the world. Today that is clearly evident. But my God is bigger.

Amen.

Where is God?

Oh my friends . . . my heart, like yours, is heavy tonight.  What a tragedy was inflicted today in Boston. 

I wish I had great words of insight, wisdom and comfort to share with my friends and family.  But I don't.  All I know is - God is good.

He doesn't seem good tonight, though, does he?  He seems . . . absent.  People always want to know, where was God?  Where was he during a tragedy?  Where was he during the fear and horror?  Why did he turn away?

And people always have pat answers:  He was right there, all the time, watching.  (What does that mean, that he's a masochist?  Standing by watching tragedy unfold in some kind of gleeful way?)  He wanted to be there but the people ignored him.  (Ridiculous.  This implies that our omnipotent, omniscient God sits around like a wimp and waits for people to pay attention to him.)  He was allowing his judgment to unfold against the people of the marathon.  (I almost can't stomach this thought.  God doesn't "accidentally" allow innocent people to be hurt in his judgment.  And furthermore, God doesn't judge like that anymore - our Messiah paid for our judgment.)

So where was God today?  Why did allow this to happen?  Why does he allow all this tragedy, this hurt, to occur in the world?

My answer?  I don't know. 

All I know is this:

When the world is bad, my God is good.
When man gives himself over to sin and violence, my God is good.
When the worst is happening, my God is good.
When life seems out of control, my God is good.

How do I know this?

Because I know him.  I've known him for a long time now, and I've always seen his goodness.  His love, his mercy, his power.

Don't be fooled into thinking that my God is surprised today, terrified about what's happened.  He's not wringing his hands, wondering what will happen tomorrow.

My God is good.  Even when I don't see good.  My God is good. 

The Joy of Loss

I've talked to several people in the last week, who are all sharing similar stories.  They feel lonely, sad, frustrated, despaired.  And we've all felt that way, haven't we? 

What is our first response when we feel anything less than happy?  Mostly, we pray that God will take away those feelings.  Bring us a friend.  Make us feel good.  Make us feel happy.

But I was reminded today that sometimes those feelings are very good things.  Sometimes when we feel lonely, and can't find anyone to talk to, we are left with no other choice but to talk to God.

Kind of sad, right?

Sad that he is our last resort.  He should be the first one we turn to.  But we live in such an instant gratification society.  Calling a friend - instant gratification.  Oh, here's one for you:  Ranting on Facebook - instant gratification! 

God is not like that, and yet he is, at the same time.  He's not like that, in that sometimes he doesn't meet our need immediately.  Sometimes we have to wait to feel better.  Yet, he is like that in that he is instantly near, instantly with us, instantly listening. 

Can I give you this advice?  The next time you feel alone, let yourself feel it.  Feel lonely.  Feel sad.  Don't shove that feeling aside, or use shopping, food, sex, or anything else to make yourself feel better. 

That's right.  Don't feel better.

Because that loneliness might be what God is using to pull you closer to him.  That moment of despair might be just the moment he has been patiently waiting for.  God uses all things, you see?  And he uses every opportunity to show you his extravagant love for you. 

Before we pray for our circumstances or our feelings to change, let's pray that God uses those times to draw us closer.