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(January 14, 2006)

When we take the whole mystery of God and the gospel and make it one large and impressive word or one very well said sentence, we allow ourselves [the freedom of] a checklist, and God about the same freedom and majesty as a cardboard box.  It’s as if somehow God wasn’t very good with words so one of our modern wisest had to rephrase everything.  It’s as if the mystery of everything about God needed to be understood so we make up human stories and paragraphs of words to somehow encompass its entirety so we know exactly what we’re talking about; but the whole point of this mystery is that even we can't completely understand it. 

This is summed up in the very specific question I’m asking you:

why does God love you? 

The fast thinkers (or “good” thinkers) may respond with “because He delights in me”, but then the question arises, “why does He delight in you?”   This always ends up being a rule for circular thinking that leads us back and forth between why God loves us, and how He does this.  

Some may say (and I may include myself in this category, or actually, either) that He loves me because He wants too.  Which really is also no answer at all because, upon pressure, the only response you can give is “well . . . just because”.  

The best sort of response that I can imagine getting for this question (and not that I have asked if often enough), but is that avoiding sort of spacey stare that means someone is thinking and then the locking of eyes, with the quietest and most profound words of “I don’t know.”

The unexplainable-ness of something makes it seem more profound.  If I ask my friend Sarah to explain why she likes to play softball, I know that would leave her speechless.  This is not because playing leaves her without words, but because her love of the game, and the feeling of pitching a ball in the heat of the moment, and running, sweating, and breathing hard with a whole team of s for months on end for the precise moments of only nine innings is far too much for her to ever convince me in a way that I would understand.  It is her very inability to convey her love of softball that makes me understand (in a very small way) that playing softball is “fun” (and the word “fun” falls so horribly short).  I feel the same exact way when I talk about the camp I go to in the summer. 

God works the same way.  When someone finds a certain specific of God’s will in their life, whether by direction or insight, they seem to have the hardest time trying to explain it to me. 

I don’t believe that the most important things in life can be explained in words.  Love, for instance, looks stupid when you try to write it all out.  Friendship is the same way, or hope, or happiness.  These things are better alluded to in songs and poetry, with imagery that captures how we feel about a certain thing because it lets us fill in the edges with what we know of life. 

If what we felt could be completely explained in sentences and paragraphs, I know that the words would eventually be twisted and misused to mean something other than its original intent.  There is so much more understanding in smiles and sighs or, if you’re a , you can talk with your eyes (and only other s comprehend what you mean- it’s a fun gift).  But really, life can never be confined to paper. . .  

. . . and look at me trying to tell you all this with words. 

 

   what if you stopped going to church?

I don't mean the reasons why you would stop going to church.
I'm not talking about a falling away that would lead to you stop going to church.
I just mean:
             What if circumstances lead up to the fact that you could no longer go to church?

What would happen to your walk with God?
Would anything change?
Would you find it doesn't matter,
            that God is still as much a part of your life as He ever was-
                                                                      great or small?

Would you find yourself lost without certain fellowship?
Would you even be able to get through the rest of the week still talking to God?
Is going to church so vital to the spiritual mindset of the other six days that one day without and you find yourself distracted?
                         Is that a good thing?

Do we only find ourselves living up to Christ on Sundays?
Do we count ourselves "better" Christians merely because we go to church?
Is going to church, for the Christian, even a law we have to keep?

Why do we go to church?

If we can have all our spiritual needs met outside of church- including the fellowship, the Word, the godly counsel, the encouragement, the accountability. . . . do we even need church? 




He has given us everything we need for life and godliness. . . .     
                                                      and He never said "you shall go to church" . . . .


Aren't we the Church?