This is the question that has frustrated me repeatedly over the years. A decade ago, this question emerged in a different form after I realized that to have faith in God really requires that we make a choice to believe something that has no inherent evidence for it. Check out Hebrews 11:1.

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen.

This verse equates faith with substance and evidence. It says that the thing we call faith fills the same space that evidence would if we had any. So much so that faith becomes, is transformed into the evidence, the substance upon which our hope is founded. It means that we choose to have hope in God based on a foundation with no evidence. That is not a rational choice – it’s irrational.

This is a core principle of Christianity –  that faith is a choice (or a supernatural gifting, but I’ll not go there today). At the core, faith is not a line of reasoning that can be followed all the way to a proof of God and the Christian message. Rather,  faith always requires a measure of uncertainty –  a leap across a divide of doubt. What a foundation to build a worldview upon! It’s mind-boggling and frankly,  it sounds a bit crazy.

I realized this and got stuck for a couple of years back then trying to figure out how to make such an irrational choice – to choose to believe in God when they is no evidence. I reached a point where I could go no further.

Fast forward two years. Sitting in a coffee shop one day, in an introspective moment, I recognized something in me that I could only describe as a drop of faith that I could not explain. I’d been desiring to have faith, but couldn’t figure out how to create it, how to conjure it up within me. So, I’d essentially given up. But on this day I unexpectedly found what I’d been looking for.  I found this drop of faith in me. Like someone trapped in a dark room for a very long time, with sensitive and dilated eyes, I saw the smallest glimmer of light leaking in.  I couldn’t figure out how it got there, but it was there – a drop of faith. I knew it wasn’t from me so I concluded that it must have come from God.

This experience transformed me and I lived for several years with delight in the idea that God did what I could not, he created in me what I could not by generating faith in me. However, my old doubt about the irrationality of faith rose up in me again about a year ago.

This time, the question emerged in the context of story. Stories resonate with me and are full of meaning as I think they do for all people. Over the years, I’ve become skeptical when people give credit to God for healings , reconciliations and good outcomes. People thank God for saving them when what I observed was that it was people saving themselves through perseverance and hard work. Marriages saved by hours of therapy and strong communities. Diseases overcome by good science and doctors. Crediting God for this was no longer making sense to me.

What does story have to do with this? Well, during this time I was developing an increasing respect and acknowledgement for the abilities and resilience of humanity. This depth is revealed in stories. Many of our beloved stories feature common themes of a trapped and broken people in need of rescue. In the middle of darkness, the people have a persistent hope.  A hero emerges and battles forces that seek to enslave. Victory is won and the people are released.

We see these themes in favorite stories – The Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, The Wizard of Oz, To Kill a Mockingbird and just about every movie and TV show you can think of. These themes are so common and woven into what it means to be human that they show up everywhere. Yet, we all know that these stories are fiction,  written by very insightful men and women who had an incredibly powerful ability to use words, circumstance and emotion to evoke the shared concerns of our species.

So the Bible comes along as a book offering a similar story with the same themes of brokenness, the need for rescue, a hero and a victory. So, out from under the rug, my old question re-emerges asking,

What makes this Bible story representative of reality and all these other stories are not, just being fiction?

So I got stuck again for about a year asking the same question.

I could see where this was going. I knew that if I didn’t pause everything to deal with this question, then I’d be plagued to go through this same cycle for the rest of my life. So about six months ago, I pledged to myself that I’d do whatever it took to resolve this question. So I dug in for the long haul.

Since then, I’ve contemplated many

Advertisements

How can I know this story is true?

Marriage – The Long View

When the dead rise, they will neither marry nor be given in marriage; they will be like the angels in heaven. – Mark 12:25

If you are like me, when you read this verse, you’re probably not left with a very good feeling.  For a long time, this verse really bothered me because it didn’t make any sense.  Why would God take away a good thing?

I’m very thankful that I have a great marriage.  My wife is fantastic.  Over the course of our 15 year marriage, she has progressively been filling up a space in my life that was previously empty.  By no means has it been easy.  We’ve been very intentional about building our marriage.  It’s an investment that requires a lot of effort, time and attention.  But it’s worth it because, with her, I’m being made whole and so is she.

So after all that work and investment, it feels like, that in the verse above, Jesus is patting me on the shoulder, telling me “Good job, but it’s game over when you die.”  Hey Jesus, that doesn’t really feel like good news.  On the contrary, the idea of living through eternity without being in a bond of marriage with my wife feels horrible.  I want to be with her forever.  I don’t want to be walking down some golden street 10,000 years from now and bump into her and say, “oh yeah, I remember you.  We had some good times.  Too bad they’re over.”  Nope, ripping out the part of you that makes you whole is not good news at all.
For quite some time, I just couldn’t get past this teaching from Jesus.  Could Jesus really be saying this?  How does this make any sense with the gospel?  In short, it doesn’t.  Frankly, there’s a lot that hasn’t been making sense in my faith lately.  However, there are some things I’m now absolutely convinced of – there is a God and he wants me to know him more than anything else.  God is so committed to me knowing him that he gave up everything to enter my world and use my language and my experiences and my culture to show me how much he wants me to know him – his goodness, his love and his persistent, unrelenting pursuit of wholeness with me… and with you.  So something was wrong, not with Jesus’ teaching, but with my understanding of it.

At The Springs, one of the songs we often sing is called Beautiful, by Phil Wickham.  You can read the lyrics here.  The song starts with the words “I see your face in every sunrise.”  In verses 1-3 he describes how we see the face of God in the created world around us – the colors of the morning, the planets, the stars.  Today, we see the face of God in the things he made which act as symbols – pointers to the true face of God that we cannot currently see.  But leading into verse four, the music swells and crescendos with a large chorus singing:

When we arrive at eternity’s shore
Where death is just a memory and tears are no more
We’ll enter in as the wedding bells ring
Your bride will come together and we’ll sing
You’re beautiful, You’re beautiful, You’re beautiful

I see Your face, You’re beautiful

These words describe why it is good news that there will be no earthly marrying in eternity.  The image is of a large population of saints crossing into eternity.  This multitude doesn’t wander aimlessly, but moves with a purpose to a place… called by wedding bells.  Think about your own wedding – how it was or perhaps how it will be.  There is always the briefest of moments in every wedding, the sweet anticipation when the bride is waiting just outside the sanctuary doors – still outside, still unrevealed to those gathered within.  These lyrics paint that brief and extraordinary moment in our future when each of us, the believers, those whom God desires, will come together for such a purpose.  We saints, as individual points of light shining with the imago dei, will draw closer, coalescing, merging together to form  the one for whom Jesus sacrificed everything – the radiant and glorious and beautiful bride of Christ.  And in the exhale of this moment, the doors open to our wedding and we finally, truly see the face of our beloved standing ahead waiting with outstretched hand and bursting with pride and wonder on his beautiful and very real face.  We move into an eternal consummation where death will not part, for our groom has overcome death so that we can, very literally, live happily ever after.
This… is good news that makes sense.  I know that my marriage today is good and right and what I need to give me wholeness in this life and I am so thankful.  I also know that my marriage is meant as a symbol pointing me to an ultimate consummation that will happen one day, when I will join with my wife and my loved ones and every other believer whose eyes have been opened to the glory and beauty of our amazing and wonderful God.  And we, in some crazy sense that I do not understand, will become one flesh with him, knowing him as he desires to be known and experiencing the wholeness that was meant for us from before time began.

Excerpt from: The Sound of our Breathing

By Jason Gray

Originally posted at the Rabbit Room

Take a breath and breathe it out.  Do it again, slowly, and try to mean it.  Breathing – of all things maybe we take it most for granted. Do we ever wonder why we are built this way, this soft machine of ours always pumping oxygen in and out?

In sadness, we breathe heavy sighs. In joy, our lungs feel almost like they will burst. In fear we hold our breath and have to be told to breathe slowly to help us calm down. When we’re about to do something hard, we take a deep breath to find our courage.  When I think about it, breathing looks almost like a kind of praying.

I heard a teaching not long ago about the moment when Moses had the nerve to ask God what his name is.  God was gracious enough to answer, and the name he gave is recorded in the original Hebrew as YHWH.

Over time we’ve arbitrarily added an “a” and an “e” in there to get YaHWeH, presumably because we have a preference for vowels. But scholars have noted that the letters YHWH represent breathing sounds, aspirated consonants that in the Hebrew alphabet would be transliterated like this:

Yod, rhymes with “rode”, which we transliterate “Y”
He, rhymes with “say”, which we transliterate “H”
Vav, like “lava”, which we transliterate “V” or “W”
He rhymes with “say”, which we transliterate “H”

A wonderful question rises to excite the imagination: what if the name of God is the sound of breathing?

This is a beautiful thought to me, especially considering that for centuries there have been those who have insisted that the name of God is so holy that we dare not speak it because of how unworthy we are. How generous of God to choose to give himself a name that we can’t help but speak every moment we’re alive. All of us, always, everywhere, waking, sleeping, with the name of God on our lips.

In his Nooma video, Breathe, Rob Bell (a pastor whose obvious gifts of curiosity and a knack for asking provocative questions can get him into trouble) wonders what this means in key moments like when a baby is born – newly arrived on planet earth, must they take their first breath, or rather speak the name of God if they are to be alive here?  On our deathbed, do we breathe our last breath? Or is it that we cease to be alive when the name of God is no longer on our lips?

The most ironic of his questions is also the most beautiful: he wonders about the moment when an atheist friend looks across the table at you and says, “there. is. no. God”.  And of course what you hear is “Yod. He. Vav. He.”

There are few better illustrations of both God’s largesse as well as his humility, his omnipresence as well as his singular intimate presence within each of us.

Breathe in. Breathe out. “He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs… the word that saves is right here, as near as the tongue in your mouth…” (Romans 8:28, 10:8 The Message)


The Sound Of Our Breathing

Jason Gray, Doug McKelvey, Seth Mosely

Everybody draws their very first breath with Your name upon their lips

Every one of us is born of dust but come alive with heaven’s kiss

The name of God is the sound of our breathing
Hallelujahs rise on the wings of our hearts beating

Breathe in, breathe out, speak it aloud Oh oh, oh oh
The glory surrounds, this is the sound Oh oh, oh oh

Moses bare foot at the burning bush wants to know who spoke to him
The answer is unspeakable like the rush of a gentle wind

The name of God is the sound of our breathing
Hallelujahs rise on the wings of our hearts beating

Breathe in, breathe out, speak it aloud Oh oh, oh oh
The glory surrounds, this is the sound Oh oh, oh oh

In him we live and move and have our being
We speak the name as long as we are breathing

So breathe in
Breathe out…

Doubters and deceivers, skeptics and believers we speak it just the same
From birth to death, every single breath is whispering Your name

Letter to Anne Rice

I sent this letter to Anne Rice in 2009.  She has since posted it on her website.

Posted 6/30/09

Forgive my informality, but I feel l must call you Anne because of the intimacy you have shared with me for fifteen years.  During those years you walked with me through your books on my own journey away from and back to God.  I almost don’t know where to begin except with the inadequate words, thank you.  Perhaps I’ll mimic your style alluding to the present then offer explanation from my past.  I’ve just finished reading Called Out of Darkness – this book being the
capstone on all your other books I’ve read.

I thank you for sharing you most intimate thoughts and struggles as you walked through the doors in your life.  I feel I have walked a parallel path, growing up with a God-focused yet in a very conservative protestant world.  I too spent much of my youth in the church.  I grew up in an environment of rules and traditions that were binding and restrictive.  Of course as a child, I didn’t understand the impossibility of satisfying the legalistic demands placed on myself and those around me.  I simply viewed this world as reality and as the manifestation of the will of God.  Yet, even in this world, my intuition suggested that there was more, something I was missing, something more beautiful and mysterious.  Nevertheless, as a young man in seminary, my trust in the legality of God’s law was at its height. This manifested in what you allude to throughout your book – judgment and accusation which I later learned were simply motivated by simple and ugly pride.  When my own church family, those in whom I found my identity, turned against me with threats of excommunication for the “false doctrine” I was preaching, my mind began to change.  I started seeing the ugliness and arrogance behind the seemingly glossy facade of my church.

In His matchless grace and wisdom, God directed me into the US military.  This experience led me into foreign countries and cultures and introduced me to new ways of thinking.  During this time I read Interview With the Vampire and over the years the rest of the books you’ve written (with a couple of exceptions).  To make this story shorter, life led me into atheism.  My faith, once based on an image of a demanding God of legal judgment, crumbled in the midst of the influences of science and my involvement with real people living in a real world.  Yet, like you, even in this world of atheism that inner voice of intuition continued to demand my attention.  This voice would wax and wane in volume, but it was always there questioning my present worldview.  Throughout these years Lestat’s struggle (which was in fact yours) resonated with me and was my frequent companion.

For me, I knew that God’s existence could not be proven in the scientific sense.  Further, I knew that believing in God must be based on an irrational choice.  I grew to understand that in order to believe in God, one must accept that such belief could not be conjured by one’s own efforts.  The nature of faith is such that we humans are unable to create it.  We can get close.  The creation thunders the existence of God, but it is not conclusive.  Objections can be made.  One’s own intuition and conscience points one in the direction of God, but it, as well, is not complete.  A gap between belief and unbelief exists that cannot be crossed by human effort.  No human can build a bridge big enough or strong enough to span this divide.  This realization defeated me.  On one hand, I knew that faith is based on an irrational decision that enables one to cross this gap.  On the other hand, I knew I didn’t have the capacity to convincingly and completely make such an illogical choice.  I felt hopeless and alone.  I remained in this state for two years …in pain.

Then one normal day, I introspectively sensed the tiniest drop of faith within me.  This part is difficult to describe.  But it seemed that in the darkness within me a near microscopic fracture occurred.  And through this crack one solitary beam of weak light shone.  It illuminated so little and barely changed the hue of the darkness, but I felt its warmth.  This light brought with it hope.  A hope, like a long lost friend, that I didn’t recognize at first, but as it got closer I remembered that I’d once known it.  And with this small hope, the re-birth of joy.

In this unearthly moment I realized, as if in an epiphany, that I was absolutely correct in my understanding of faith, but that I was missing the key element.  No matter how much effort I put into it, there was no way for me to bridge the gap to faith.  Yet, what I had missed for so long was that God never expected me to bridge the gap myself.  Rather it was like God was telling me, “I know that you cannot create your own faith.  You are not the Creator.  I Am.  Therefore, I create faith in you so that I can be glorified.”  It was God who caused the fracture in my soul.  It was God who broke into my prison to rescue me.  He saw me trapped and He came for me.  Since then His fracture has expanded and increased in size so that more of His light illumines my dark soul and his faith and love floods into me creating something new and beautiful.  It is by grace that we have been saved through faith, and this is not from ourselves, but by the grace of God (Ephesians 2).  My experience added to this to say that while salvation comes through faith, the faith itself also comes from God and is another form of his grace.  What a marvelous realization!  Not only can I not claim my salvation as my own work.  I cannot even claim my own faith!  All rescue, all salvation is the direct result of God’s personal attention to and action on my individual and seemingly inconsequential soul.

This is my story (abbreviated here though it be) and I share it with you because you shared yours’ with me.  Legalism attempts to discover, protect and preserve truth in an unchanging form – a system that focuses on a destination as its goal.  Legalism’s destination is a sure and complete knowledge of truth and the will of God.  In unperceived personal heresy, the Legalist arrogantly claims to know and be the caretaker of the correct and full interpretation of God’s will and Word.  When I use the term God’s Word I mean the essence that includes Scripture, but also God’s force that brought everything into existence and sustains it (the logos, Christ).  I could go on and on about the Word of God, but I’ll not here.  My point in saying this is that God is anything but easily described.  He is the mystery of mysteries.  He manifests himself in myriad ways according to his will and is doing so through you.

With your Christ the Lord series, I believe God is using you as an instrument (St. Francis) of His Word.  “And the Word became flesh…”  This is what you are doing through this series – making the ephemeral spirit into comprehensible flesh.  I thank you for painting such a believable picture of our Lord.  Though unknowingly, you have participated as co-worker with God to increase His light shining in my soul.  From Lestat’s questions, I learned the inherent value of the search even when it feels hopeless.  From Maharet, I learned that a love of family and community can keep one sane.  And from your picture of Yeshua I see the man I could never envision.  I thank you for your commitment to write only for and about Christ and I encourage you in this.  You are having a powerful effect.

Through God’s direct and personal efforts in my life and yours He has ever so patiently led us back to Himself.  I thank God for the path that he has led you on and pray that he continues to transform you into ever-increasing beauty.  Write on.

With immeasurable gratefulness and renewed hope,

Andy Fritsch
Edmond, OK

 

Is faith intellectual?

James 1:14-24 says (NLT):

14 What good is it, dear brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but don’t show it by your actions? Can that kind of faith save anyone? 15 Suppose you see a brother or sister who has no food or clothing, 16 and you say, “Good-bye and have a good day; stay warm and eat well”—but then you don’t give that person any food or clothing. What good does that do? 17 So you see, faith by itself isn’t enough. Unless it produces good deeds, it is dead and useless. 18 Now someone may argue, “Some people have faith; others have good deeds.” But I say, “How can you show me your faith if you don’t have good deeds? I will show you my faith by my good deeds.” 19 You say you have faith, for you believe that there is one God. Good for you! Even the demons believe this, and they tremble in terror. 20 How foolish! Can’t you see that faith without good deeds is useless? 21 Don’t you remember that our ancestor Abraham was shown to be right with God by his actions when he offered his son Isaac on the altar? 22 You see, his faith and his actions worked together. His actions made his faith complete. 23 And so it happened just as the Scriptures say: “Abraham believed God, and God counted him as righteous because of his faith.” He was even called the friend of God. 24 So you see, we are shown to be right with God by what we do, not by faith alone.

Notice again verse 18:

“How can you show me your faith if you don’t have good deeds? I will show you my faith by my good deeds.”

It is sometimes difficult for me to separate faith from intellectual conclusion. It is very tempting for me to need to intellectually understand what I’m believing in. Yet, in this passage, James seems to address the difference between faith and intellect. If faith is simply a conclusion based on a logical progression of ideas, then it can be “shown” to others by directing them down the same logical progression. Assuming the other follows the same logic, they will come to the same conclusion. It is just a mental exercise and good deeds are irrelevant.

However, James draws and inseparable connection between the thing he calls “faith” and “deeds”. So much so that he says faith is un-showable unless it is shown through deeds.

So, using logic :), we must conclude that if faith can only be demonstrated by deeds and the intellectual faith I described above does not require deeds, the this type of intellectual faith must not be faith at all, but something else entirely if James is the authority for defining what faith is.

Since, James was the step-brother of Jesus and lived for years with the God-man witnessing what it means to live by faith, I think he’s got pretty good credentials for being an authority on this topic. Therefore, the intellectual faith I’m so tempted to adopt is false and worse – it is vain conceit.

So if faith is not the product of an intellectual argument, what is it? James describes faith here as a life-changing belief, a conviction that transforms. Simply put, if one does not show the acting out of one’s faith through deeds of mercy and kindness, that one has no faith at all. If he claims to have faith, but no deeds to manifest it, he is fooling himself and is deluded by his own pride. He does not really believe, nor is he convicted because he does not act.

Let your faith grow

I just completed a seminar called Family-ID designed to help parents create a multi-generational vision, family motto and a plan for growing their family in such a way that it matches their values.  At the end of the seminar, the leaders challenged us to read certain books of the bible each day for the next six weeks.  The first assigned book is James.  Now, I’ve never been very disciplined at reading my bible on a daily basis, but I’m trying to take this assignment seriously.

So, on the first day, I picked up my NLT (New Living Translation) and begin reading James 1.  Here’s what jumped out at me.  Beginning in 1:2…

“…when troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy.  For you know that when you faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow.  So let it grow…”

I’ve read this passage many times, but it’s always been in different translations.  I re-read this in the King James and the New International Version and neither version communicates the idea of trouble as being an opportunity for growth.  The meaning communicated by the NLT is that when we are faced with trouble, specifically trouble that tests or challenges our faith in God, we are presented with a choice.  James, through the NLT translators, encourages his readers to make a choice to interpret their present trouble as a positive experience.  This jumped off the page at me because I saw James telling us that we have multiple options for perceiving reality.  Reality happens, but how we interpret it is left up to us.

The impact of this on me was great in light of my previous post where I expressed my doubts regarding making petitions to God through prayer.  As I read James, I began to consider what it means to test our faith.  What is a test of faith?  What does it mean to have our faith shaken?  I concluded that we are witnesses and subjects of events and experiences throughout our lives that test our faith.  These events and experiences test us because they inject doubt into the foundations of our faith.  So when our faith is tested, this means that something has happened that makes us doubt or question whether our God-oriented view of the world is truly representative of reality.

Something happens and we may ask if God really exists.  We may ask why God allows his children to experience pain and so forth.  Events occur which introduce doubt and skepticism, which cause us to ask questions about the framework of our faith system, which threaten to change what we believe in.  It is in this place that we are presented with the choice to give up a portion of our faith or continue to believe in spite of our doubts and questions.

Interestingly, James seems to presuppose that we do not currently have, nor will we ever have, all the answers or a full understanding of who God is and why God does what he does. Building on this presupposition, James makes it clear that it is our decision regarding how we will react when faced with the uncertainty in our faith.  Yet, James doesn’t just manifest this decision and leave it at that.  He encourages us to choose faith in spite of doubt.  And this is the crux of the matter for me.  “James, how can I choose to believe in something when my doubts remain and my questions go unanswered?”  James replies, “let [your faith] grow.”  He didn’t say, “choose faith” implying an intellectual exercise in suspending doubt.  He said “let” or allow your faith to grow.  The common denominator between choosing for your faith to grow and allowing it to grow is control.  When I try to make a choice for my faith to grow in spite of my present doubts, I’m attempting to control my own faith.  However, when I allow it to grow, I acknowledge that my faith is a power that is part of, yet beyond my intellectual activity and capacity – it is a force or energy that is released or held back based on my willingness to surrender.

I have long believed that the very presence of my faith is attributable to God and not myself (Eph. 2:8).  For years, I struggled to make my own faith and I always failed.  But when I stopped trying, after a while, faith miraculously was created in me.  This is what James is alluding to at the beginning of verse four.  He is encouraging us to surrender our doubts and questions to God.  It is through this act of surrender that we choose to let our faith grow.  We release our control, taking our hands off the reigns and allow God to work his growing power in us.  And over time, through repeated surrenders during our tests of faith, God works in us to build endurance so that eventually, even as the tests continue to come, we will be less prone to grab the reigns again and will trust God to continue steering us on our way.  This is what it means in the last part of verse four, that once “our endurance is fully developed, [we] will be perfect and complete, needing nothing.”  We will not need answers to our questions and doubts because we will know with ever increasing surrender that the One steering us will lead us straight and true to Him.

Thank you Father for this revelation.

Why do we ask God for anything?

Someone I read one time said you don’t really know what you believe until you’ve toiled to write it down.  So in this spirit, I’ll start writing in an attempt to get my thoughts worked out.

For quite some time I’ve been struggling with prayer.  I see prayers falling into one of two categories – praise and petition.  The praise part I get.  When I am lucky enough to find a quiet moment or intentional enough to focus, I see blessings all around me and I am thankful.  For me, the morning sunrise has always represented my blessings.  A new day breaking over the horizon, the sun’s orange and yellow rays piercing though cotton clouds in such a way as to shimmer across their edges and cast distinct lines across the sky.  To breathe that morning air, its freshness.  It is a New Day… these feelings about the morning symbolize the acuteness I feel about God’s blessings for me.  I offer Him prayers of thanksgiving for these.

But that tricky other side of prayer, the petition, is what boggles me.  Why do we ask God for anything?  Why do we ask God for it to rain? Or for healing? Or protection, or favor, or grace, prosperity?  Why anything?  At this point you’re probably thinking that I’ve lost it because it so obvious why we ask God for stuff.  However, just because everyone thinks the reason is obvious, it’s not obvious to me.

Follow me on this.  God is good.  I mean He is Good with a capital ‘G’.  He is the the definition of good.  If anything is good, it is a reflection of God because he is the author and source of goodness.  Also, God is Love to all the same extremes, completely and utterly [redundancy intended for emphasis]. Additionally, God wants good things for us.  This “will for good” is at the very center of God’s plan of redemption and restoration.  Many times the experiences we have that we interpret as bad are actually from God and meant for our good.  This is the “furnace of affliction”, “trial by fire”, whatever you want to call it.  But it is meant to help us grow from those who are merely “born” of the Spirit (babies) to those who “live and move and have our very being” in the Spirit (mature). So, God is good.  He loves us and wants the very best for us. Moving on…

God is all powerful.  What does this mean really?  It means that nothing, I mean absolutely nothing happens outside the will of God.  Let’s define will.  When I speak of will I’m not talking necessarily about desire. To me, will is very close to purpose and authority, perhaps even permission.  God holds the universe together with His power.  Without his power holding it together, the universe would fall apart.  Think about that, God knows about every galaxy, every star, all dark matter and anti-matter, every black hole, solar system, planet, person, cell, and molecule,  atom, and quark.  He must know about all this in order to hold it together.  Let’s take this another step.

God knows all this about everything in the universe in this moment – in this one second of time.  He knows in this second, where every electron is in the universe even though they move at the speed of light.  Fast-forward another second.  Now God knows where every electron just got to and every other atom in the universe.  Let’s go another step.

God knows the location, function and condition of every atom in the universe for every second across the span of the universe’s entire existence.  And God knew all this before he even created the Big Bang.  Let’s keep stepping.

Not only did God know all this from before the creation of the universe, God knows every possible outcome of every change in atomic direction, human decision, every interaction between gravitational forces, interactions between wind and cloud particles… I’m talking about reality and the infinite possible realities that might have been or could still occur.  There is only one true reality.  We never know reality, only our interpretation of our infinitesimally small perception of our experiences of it.  We experience incompletely and interpret imperfectly.  Nevertheless, there is one reality encompassing every atom and substance in the universe.  This one reality we can never know.  Not even one second of this reality.  Yet God knows every aspect of every second of this reality.  Additionally, God understands every aspect of every second of every possible reality 99.9999999999% of which will never occur.  Top this off with the fact that God didn’t go through some process to learn this information.  He simply knows it.

So, to review, God is good and love.  God wants goodness for us.  God knows absolutely everything and absolutely nothing happens unless God not only authorizes it, but actually makes it happen with His power.  Next step…

God is outside of time.  Stay with me on this one.  God is not a temporal being like you and I.  We are born, grow , live and die.  Our perspective of life is defined and inseparable from the concept of time.  We can’t even speak about anything without time being a context. Try it.  Simple phrases like, “I woke up.” or “I’m going to work.” or even, “I love you” all have time as their backdrop.  Even, “My name is Andy” implies time because of the word “is”.  For us, everything has a beginning, middle and end.  Nothing falls outside this rule, except God.  Because our language itself is time-bound, we can’t even describe God without falsely attributing a sense of time-ness to God.  Yet, to God time itself does not exist.  Time only exists for God’s creation.  Time, after all, is a creation as well.  So what does this mean?

Well, God’s non-temporal nature implies a paradox in His perspective of reality.  For God, everything happens and nothing happens and both of these statements are true simultaneously.  What?  From one angle God sees or has seen(?) everything in the universe happen even before it actually occurred.  This is because of His omniscience and omnipresence.  However, since for something to happen it must happen within a span of time, and since God is outside of time, it can also be argued that from another angle, God witnesses nothing because time does not exist for Him.  Perhaps this particular point is a bit divergent, but I believe it’s important because it illustrates God’s utter different-ness from us.  He is so unlike me, that my brain physically hurts trying to think about it.  I suppose the point to take away here is that God knows everything that is is knowable.  That includes every aspect of our lives: every decision we face, every destination where those decisions could lead, and every thought, emotion and concern we have. And he knew all this before we existed.

So, if my friend is sick, and I pray to God asking for his healing, what am I really doing?  I’m asking God to focus on somebody he’s already focused on.  I’m asking God to change a situation that He caused. And I’m either accusing God of not knowing what is best for my friend because he caused him to be sick or I’m accusing God of not being powerful enough to control all things in the universe with his will and power.

But wait, the bible is filled with petitions.  Jesus himself said, “Give us this day our daily bread”… “forgive them, for they know not what they do”.  Doesn’t “the fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much”?  What do these examples mean?

Here’s what I think, but first let me say in full disclosure, that I’m wholly undecided on this issue, yet I’m struggling to find a way to dismiss all the logic I’ve stated above. Onto my conclusion.  The human race has advanced significantly since the time of the bible.  Education is far more available and the commoners of society can think abstractly because of it.  Whereas, in centuries past, education and critical thinking was in short supply even among the fortunate.

Saying it straight, people with less education have less exposure to ideas and less ability to deal with those ideas.  Therefore, they need more crutches.  If someone cannot possibly conceive of a God who exists outside of time, then he must believe that God is affected by time.  This person can conclude nothing other than the conclusion that God reacts to stimuli – that God is a subject of cause and effect just like the rest of us.  Certainly this simpler idea of God is more easily grasped and welcomed because it is easier to relate to due to its commonality to our own human experience.  Yet, if there are aspects of God that we can relate to on a human level, there are for more ways in which God is wholly other from us.  But this is inconceivable to perhaps the majority of the human race – or at least unacceptable.

So, I’m struggling to decide if it is right to petition God or whether it is an insult to Him when I do so.  Is is not a greater faith to trust that God will work the best path for me without praying for course corrections?  Of course, God doesn’t need my petitions.  He already knows what I’m going to inform him of anyway and better than I know it myself.  He already knows what is best for me.  He already loves me and controls literally everything in existence.  So, if God doesn’t need to hear my petitions, does He want  me to make my petitions for my own benefit?  If so, what benefit do I get asking God for something, when I know he already knows what I want, what is best for me and loved me enough beforehand to direct my path toward the best outcome?  To me, it just feels like a lack of trust when I petition God knowing all this.  It seems like the height of pride to think that my small petition will change God’s mind away from His chosen path to something different.

So I’m stuck and this is my struggle with prayer.  While it may feel insulting to me to petition God, I have no qualms about petitioning you for advice.  Got any?