Control

Then Simon Peter, having a sword, drew it and struck the high priest's servant and cut off his right ear.  (The servant's name was Malchus.)  So Jesus said to Peter, "Put your sword into its sheath; shall I not drink the cup that the Father has given me?"

--John 18:10-11

A lot of times in my life, I've thought, "Let me help you out God.  Let me do this."  ....like God really needs my help.  I, a human being, with finite knowledge and wisdom, so often think that I know what is best, when, in all actuality, only God knows.  I only know what I have gone through and what I am presently going through.  There is no way that I am able to truly figure out what is best for me and for the Kingdom.  My thinking would have been exactly like Peter's, just thinking of the immediate circumstances.  But God was thinking of eternity; if Jesus didn't die, then people would never be able to experience intimate fellowship with Him.  Similarly, in our lives, we only see the immediate, surrounding circumstances and desire to be brought out of them, when in reality, God may be doing great things in our hearts and in the kingdom through us, if only we'd relinquish control and willingly drink the cup that God has given to us.

Embodiment

I've been reading through Disappointment With God by Philip Yancey.  The subtitle is:  Three questions no one asks aloud.  It has been really great reading through this book and seeing how Yancey uses the Word to respond to the questions of "Is God unfair?", "Is God silent?", and "Is God hidden?"  The chapter that I was reading today was entitled, "Why God Doesn't Intervene."  And I was just blown away at what Yancey was saying that I knew I needed to (externally) process/try to summarize what he was saying and I thought I'd share that :)

There is the spiritual realm and the physical world.  People today are so quick to separate the two, where in all actuality, the two are inextricably linked.  What God does is that He seeks to bring the world back to its original state where "spirit and matter dwelt together in perfect harmony" (p. 224).  What happens when we become believers, then, is that we, with our physical bodies begin reconnecting with the spiritual world.  "One might say our task is the very opposite of reductionism.  We look for ways to re-enchant or 'hallow' the world:  to see in nature an engine of praise, to see in bread and wine a sacrament of grace, to see in human love a shadow of ideal Love" (p. 225).  And in this, Christ unbelievably joined the two worlds together as he, the Word, become flesh and dwelt among us, "unifying creation in a way that had not been seen since Eden" (p. 225).

When Jesus ascended, he left behind his actual presence in the church.  Our goodness becomes his goodness; our actions become his actions.  "The two worlds merge in Christ" (p. 225).

"Is God silent?  I answer that question with another question:  Is the church silent?  We are his mouthpiece, his designated vocal chords on the planet" (p. 225).

God chose to have these incredibly inferior, insufficient, and humiliating human beings bear his perfect, spotless, beautiful, and magnificent image.  "He deemed it well worth the risk and the humiliation" (p. 228).

"Embodiment is the end of all God's works." --Jurgen Moltmann

I am, on one hand, so overwhelmed by my unworthiness to bear the image of God and yet so blown away by God's goodness and grace in His choice to still allow me to be His hands and feet.