The Mysterious and the Good

"Clouds and darkness are round about Him.... Light is sown for the righteous...." Ps. 97:2a, 11a

"Course He isn't safe. But He is good." -C.S. Lewis

There are two things that we must never forget about God: His mysteriousness and His goodness. We are most forgetful of and frustrated by the former. We gladly seek the comforts of God only to find that resting in His secret place means dwelling in a shadow (Ps.91:1) and darkness (Ps. 18:11). God is light, and in Him dwells no darkness (I John 1:5), but darkness is where He dwells; not it in Him, but rather He in it. Thus, His ways are mysterious (Is. 55:8, 9; Rom. 11:33) and His light inaccessible (I Tim. 6:16). We often flounder at this: we would much rather have a God that we could easily categorize and thus easily predict. However, one of God's favorite past times is frustrating our assumptions, and He will continue to do so until we trust in His mystery.
God's goodness is more palatable than His mystery, but only after we water it down to the point of banality. We do acknowledge the light that He graciously sows for us, whether it be His word for guidance (Ps.119:105) or His Son for salvation (John 1:4); yet we do not seem to connect that we are given light because the world is dark, a darkness filled with terrors and terrified people. The light we are given is for our survival and the salvation of others. We are not on a sun-drenched vacation; we are pilgrims in an unholy land. God's goodness (which He freely gives because He is good) is not to be bottled up and horded, but broken and spilled out unto all. God is good, and good to us; but if we are to be like Him (I Peter 1:16), then we cannot keep that goodness, that light, to ourselves. Like our Father in Heaven has done for us, we too must spread the light as far as we can fling it.

-Jon Vowell

The Return of the King

"Let the heavens rejoice, and let the earth be glad...for [the Lord] cometh, for He cometh to judge the earth; He shall judge the world with righteousness, and the people with His truth." Ps. 96:11, 13

There is an old story that has been told and retold again and again (in some form or another) throughout human history. It is a story about a land of some kind being bereft of its rightful leader for some reason, and now the land sits in long anticipation for the return of its headship. In the meantime, the land is overrun with evil forces, or ruled over by incompetent and inadequate rulers, or both. Waiting long for the leader's return can make the heart grow cold eventually, and it seems that those who even remember their master or his return are the minority. That minority continues, however, to stoke the flames of anticipation in those who will listen as they pass on their stories again and again. Meanwhile, the land lies dark and dormant, possibly in the hands of an enemy, waiting watching less and less for its good and rightful leader.
As much as we like the relegate such idealism to childish tales (and thus degrade childish tales), the truth is that such a story lies at the heart of our ever-present reality. The whole world lies in darkness, bereft of its rightful leader and lordship (ironically by our own devices), and its current prince is a usurper and monster, whose intentions towards us are malicious at best. In the midst of that dark reign, however, there are those strange messengers and magicians, those light-casters, who sow shimmering pearls of light like white sparks, and each shard of light kindles a fire whose flames crackle forth a declaration of the presence of our rightful ruler, His past works, and His imminent return. As Christians, we are the strange folk who proclaim (amongst other things) the anticipation of the return of our rightful ruler, the one who's headship and judgments will final put an end to all evil and bring peace at last.
This concept of the returning king, of the coming again of the rightful ruler to claim his throne and right all wrongs, is etched into the human heart for a reason, because we long for it dearly. From Homer to Tolkien, the fearless leader returns and brings with him wrath upon his enemies and salvation to his house. Such a thing is a deep yearning of the human heart that burns like an ember inside: the King is coming; He must come; He shall come; and all shall be well. The good news of Christianity is not just salvation but also this blessed hope: the return of the King. We must spread this news far and wide.

-Jon Vowell

Worship as Obedience

"O come, let us worship and bow down; let us kneel before the Lord our maker. For He is our God, and we are the people of His pasture, and the sheep of His hand.... Harden not your heart...as in the day of temptation in the wilderness, when your fathers tried me, proved me, and saw my work." Ps. 95:6-9

Worship is most certainly about music and singing (vs. 1-2), but it is also about obedience as well (vs. 7b-11). We called to not only "worship" but also to "bow down," to show forth praises and give submission. In truth, they are a package deal: praise without obedience is hypocrisy, while obedience without praise is dead formalism and legalism. Praise and obedience are like "spirit" and "truth": both are necessary for proper worship (John 4:24).
If God is "our maker" (vs. 6) and "our God" (vs. 7), and we are His "people" and "sheep" (vs. 7), then worshipping Him for who He is and what He does is not only a matter of praise (for His goodness and greatness) but also obedience (for His leadership and headship). The people of the wilderness wanderings are the prime example of this (vs. 8-11): somehow they managed to give praises at the tabernacle and refuse to enter the promised land (and stay out of it) when they were told to.
God does not need a legion of yes-men and cheerleaders anymore than He needs dour-faced servants catering to His every whim. What He calls for are a people who delight in Him so much that they not only willfully and gladly offer up praises but also themselves.

-Jon Vowell

Jesus: Light of the Dark World

"In Him was life, and that life was the light of men; and the light shineth in the darkness, and darkness cannot lay hold of it." John 1:4-5

"Everyone that does evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds shoould be exposed." John 3:20

"The world cannot hate you; but me it hateth, because I testify of it that the works thereof are evil." John 7:7

"To this end was I born, and for this cause came I into the world, that I should bear witness unto the truth." John 18:37

"For this purpose the Son of God was manifested: that He might destroy the works of the devil." I John 3:8b

The destruction of the enemy and his works begins and ends with the proclamation and revelation of the truth. Jesus was not hated because He lead military uprisings (which He didn't), nor because He merely taught us to love each other (which He also didn't); rather, He was hated because He spoke the truth to those in and of the darkness. The result was like fire and deadwood, or vampires and the sun, or sodium and water: it was not a pleasant mixture.
Jesus, however, was not here to mix pleasantly with all things: he was here to start a fire (Luke 12:49), to break a spell, both in word (His teachings) and in deed (the Cross). Jesus was the Light not just because He is and came from God, who dwells in Light inaccessible, but also because He was the truth and spoke the truth, and the darkness hated Him for it.
We too are called to be such a witness; not a witness to our own ideas or notions, but to the truth: the truth that God has revealed in His word and in Christ. As Christ was the light of the world (John 8:12) so too are we (Matt. 5:14-16). We are called to pierce the darkness with a hated yet unquenchable light, and thus we can expect the same ire but also the same victory. The world loves two things: (1) convenient lies that are easy to forget while they support our congenial apathy towards and complacency in Sin, and (2) uncertainty and doubt as an appropriate hiding place for our pet preferences and opinions. They love these things because they fear what truth and certainty will reveal about themselves and their preferences, viz., that they are weighed and found wanting before the holiness of God.
We are told to sow the word like seeds; what an image to think of the seeds as sparks of flaming light that illuminate the night and burn up the dead and rotting things! We are the light-casters: we bear witness to the truth, and in doing so cast shards of Heaven's light like fire round about. This is the fire that Christ has started and that we continue, until perhaps all the elements of the earth will melt by its fervent heat.

-Jon Vowell

Two Realities of the Christian Life (plus a Third)

"The floods have lifted up, O Lord, the floods have lifted up their voice; the floods lift up their waves. The Lord on high is mightier than the noise of many waters, yea, than the mighty waves of the sea." Ps. 93:3-4

Herein are two realities of a Christian's life: the trials and tribulations of the world and the faithfulness and goodness of God.
That troubles are here equated to "floods" is apropos. We often feel inundated by the cares of life, a seemingly endless stream of discouraging distractions. From the sorrows common to all men (disease, death, etc.) to our own particular heartaches and pains, they are always like a flood: overwhelming and relentless. Scripture nowhere promises that in this life we will have a lack of troubles.
It is good to know, therefore, that God "is mightier" than all the troubles of life, and equally apropos image; for when we are in the midst of struggles, nothing seems "mightier" than it. Thus, it is like music to our ears to hear that our God has clothed Himself with a strength that is mightier that all the waves of sorrow and care (vs. 1).
"Thy throne is established of old; Thou art from everlasting. [...] Holiness adorns Thine house, O Lord, forever" (vs. 2, 5). Herein is a third and final reality, a truth that we all gladly hand our hats on: troubles. though overwhelming and relentless, are also temporal; only one thing is eternal, and that it our God and all that He is (i.e., His holiness). The valley of the shadow of death is a real yet temporary thing; it is goodness and mercy that shall follow you "all the days" of your life (Ps. 23).

-Jon Vowell

The Two Works of God

"Thou, Lord, hast made me glad through Thy work; I will triumph in the works of Thy hands. [...] When the wicked spring up as the grass, and when all the workers of iniquity do flourish, it is [so] that they shall be destroyed forever.... The righteous shall flourish like the palm tree; he shall grow like a cedar in Lebanon. Those that are planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our God." Ps. 92:4, 7, 12-13

Herein are the two works of God: the defeat of His enemies (vs. 7-9) and the triumph of His people (vs. 10-14). These are two sure promises on which we have great grounds to rejoice, and that for two reasons.
The first is obvious: the good guy wins and the bad guys lose. We are not victors in and of ourselves; rather, it is God who is the Victor, and through Christ we share in His victory. In the end, we shall see the affirmation of the child-like view: evil will have its momentary triumphs, but will ultimately fail at the hand of the hero. God's first work is the destruction of his enemies and His final triumph, and us with Him.
The second reason is (what I call) theodic: "to show that the Lord is upright; He is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in Him" (vs. 15). All the skeptics and doubters will be answered in the end, for we shall all step into the other side of silence, and view the tapestry of God's will and purposes from the front (so to speak), and we will at long last see the sense of it all. At that day, every mouth will be stopped, and all will know what the angels of heaven have always known: Holy is the Lord. God's holiness will be proven, and none will say a word against it.

-Jon Vowell

Our Dwelling Place

"He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide in the shadow of the Almighty. [...] Because thou hast made the Lord...thy dwelling place, there shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling." Ps. 91:1, 9-10

These thoughts are not fanciful idealism; they are solid, practical truths of life. It is true that your physical dwelling, possessions, and relationships may be touched by evil and plague; your own body may be as well. Such is the way of the world. However, when God is your true dwelling place, nothing can ultimately touch, for God, His character and His promises, are sure and secure. The soul that is "hide with Christ in God" (Col. 3:3) may be beset by many troubles, but they will never be shaken. This is not prosperity gospel; Job 13:15 and Romans 8:37 encapsulate these truths more than the tenets of prosperity dogma. The one who has made God their dwelling place has become fundamentally unconquerable, and evil and plague can never truly touch them again, though the body they may kill.
"Because he hath set his love upon Me, therefore I will deliver him.... I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him..." (vs. 14-15). Deliverance necessarily implies that one is in the midst of something, and it is a hard truth that much of human life means being "in the midst" of things. Nevertheless, the one who has made God their dwelling, their love, their one and only desire, will find deliverance, whether it by a miracle in the moment or death that gives way to victory. Like the Lord, the Christian is to put no stock in the people and things of this world, for we know that they are fallen and fragile, and will fail (John 2:23-25). Instead, our hope is in the eternal God who is and neither falls nor fails, and whoever dwells in Him shall never be moved (Ps. 15).

-Jon Vowell

Oswald Chambers on Christ-Likeness (or, The Inadequacy of Words)

From the July 18th entry of Still Higher for His Highest:

"Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice." Self-sacrifice may be simply a disease of the nerves, a morbid self-consciousness which is the obverse of intense selfishness. [...] Whenever I make self-sacrifice the aim and end of my life, I become a traitor to Jesus; instead of placing Him as my Lodestar I place Him as an example, One who helps me to sacrifice myself. [...] It is much easier to sacrifice myself, to efface myself, than to do God's will in God's way.

Oswald here reveals the inadequacy of words when we say (quite sincerely) that we are to "imitate" Christ. Though Christ-likeness is indeed or aim, we err when we call it "imitating" Christ, for that suggests mimicry, a conscious effort on our part to adhere as closely as we can to Christ character and guidelines. The danger is that we treat Christ like yet another spiritual guru whose Sermon on the Mount is the latest moral code that we are to try our best to follow. That, however, is not what "Christ-likeness" means.
The simple fact is that we are not to imitate Christ, but rather follow Him by obedience. He is our leader, not an example. To follow Him, to trust and obey Him, is our only duty; meanwhile, it is God who makes us "like Christ" (Phil. 2:13; Rom. 8:29-30) as we follow and obey Christ (John 14:15, 15:14). Christ-likeness is a work of God and not of ourselves. It is an impartation of Christ and not an imitation.
Surprisingly enough, "imitating" Christ could very well be a type of pride: "Look how like Christ I am! I follow Him so well!" "No, I follow Him better!" "No, I do!" Conversely, those who simply follow and obey Christ really have no grounds to boast, for two reasons: (1) whatever Christ-likeness they have is of God and not themselves, and (2) Christ leads each person differently, so there really is no way to compare any one to another (John 21:20-22).
This understanding of Christ-likeness as impartation rather than imitation changes the whole nature of the Christian life. I have been asked before about whether or not it is hard to "keep all of those rules" in order to be a good Christian. My response has been to point out that Christianity is not something that you do but rather something that you are made by God. The reason a true Christian "acts different" from others is not because they are really good at keeping the rules of a moral teacher, but because they, having decided to follow Christ, have been indwelt by the real and living presence of the Spirit of God, who makes them more like Christ along their way. Perhaps if we understood and expressed this necessary distinction between "keeping rules" and "being made into His image," perhaps then our lives and God's grace will become more wondrous, both to ourselves and others.

-Jon Vowell

The Real Nature of Salvation (A Lecture for Salvation 101)

"The Son can do nothing of Himself, but what He seeth the Father do.... For as the Father hath life in Himself, so hath He given to the Son to have life in Himself.... I can of my own self do nothing...." John 5:19, 26, 30

"I am the vine, ye are the branches...without me, ye can do nothing." John 15:5

The implication of these two verses is that what we have (as believers) is what belongs to Christ, and what Christ has belongs to God. This gives an added dimension to the nature of Salvation.
All that God is (i.e., Holy--the perfect wholeness and harmony of His qualities) is what we, as humans, need to be (John 17:3; I Peter 1:16). However, as sinners (i.e., those bound by and enslaved to Sin; John 8:34 & Rom. 6:16) we are separated from God (Is. 59:2; Ps.88:4-5), and thus we cannot know Him and thereby partake in His holiness.
Christ has solved this problem on both fronts: [1] By being the sacrificial payment for Sin (I John 2:2), He ended the separation thereof (Eph. 2; Col. 1:20-22). [2] All that Christ is comes from God (John 5:19, 26, 30), and all that God is has been given to Christ (Col. 2:9). Therefore, it is through Him that we can know God and partake in all that He is (I Cor. 1:30-31; II Cor. 5:21; Phil. 3:8-9).
Thus, fellowship with God in His holiness was our destiny as humanity, but Sin brought by humanity's rebellion cut us off from that destiny. So God sent Christ so that (1) the world may be reconciled back unto Himself, and (2) all that He is may once again be ours (II Cor. 5:17-21). Therefore, we can see that salvation is not merely restored fellowship in the sense that God is no longer mad at us and won't throw us into hell; salvation is the restoration of a fellowship that leads into a partaking of and oneness with God and all that He is. This is the answer to mankind's deepest desires. This is the Gospel, which except a man believe, He cannot be saved.

-Jon Vowell

The Proper and Necessary Desire

"Teach me Thy way, O Lord; I will walk in Thy truth. Unite my heart to fear Thy name." Ps. 86:11

Herein lies two things that are proper and necessary for us to desire: the truth of God and the fear of God, i.e., the realities that God reveals and the reverence towards God for who He is. It is for these two things the psalmist request, and it is these two things that are sorely lacking today.
"A fool hath no delight in understanding, but that his heart may discover itself" (Pro. 18:2). We care very little for the truth that only God can reveal. The only truth that we desire is the "truth" that we invent for ourselves so that we can shape our identity and world as we see fit. If a certain truth is inconvenient, it can be dropped. Reality is unnecessary, and even lies can become "truth" if they make us feel better about ourselves and confirm our congenial preferences. In short, we would much rather shape our subjectivity by our subjectivity rather than the objectivity of God.
"An oracle in my heart says, 'The Transgression of the wicked is that there is no fear of God before their eyes'" (Ps. 36:1, Rev. marg.). We reverence God very little, but reverence ourselves very much, especially our preferences for God. Like truth, we would much rather shape God by our own subjectivity rather than accept the objective reality of Himself that he has revealed to us. Thus, today's modern "worship" is little more than idolatry, a ceremony of self-worship.
Herein, therefore, is the proper and necessary desire: to desire, not the God we want, but rather the God who is.

-Jon Vowell

Real Presence

"...my heart and flesh crieth out for the living God." Ps. 84:2b

The main ignorance both inside and outside the church is that Christianity is about dead principles rather than a living person. Apparently, we are all about rite and ritual and ceremony with empty prayers and readings rather than communion with a living, personal being who is there. In addition, our churches are merely buildings of stone and wood rather than the house of the Holy One. Even holiness itself is nothing more than dead piety rather than an active principle emanating from a living and present presence that dwells within us. We must set this ignorance straight: Christianity is no more about dead formalism or stringent legalism than Christ Himself was; rather, Christianity is about actual fellowship with the living God who is there.
Perhaps the world can be excused for this ignorance, for how are they to know unless we tell them? Thus, we are the more guilty ones. Our lives, our deeds as well as our words, reveal nothing living or present, nothing active or personal. If we are not dead formalists orlegalists (or both), then we are at least pasty-faced moralists, our lives no different from the average pagan or heathen. Christianity, however, is not about dead religion; it is about the living God who walks with us and dwells within us. That reality should be reflective of a difference in our lives, a difference that cannot be simply explained away as mere religion and/or morality. To be "Christ-like" means that, like Christ, people must not know what to do with us because they have been in the presence of the living God, whether they knew it or not.

-Jon Vowell

Reminders on the Basics of Reality

"Fill their faces with shame that they may seek Thy name, O Lord." Ps. 83:16

The purpose of punishment is remembrance. It is a (paradoxically) friendly reminder of the may things really are, a reality check courtesy call. To the punished (and unpunished; vs. 17-18), it reasserts the immutability of what is true and real, for all evil is ultimately a denial of the true and real. When God laid down His laws, He was not making arbitrary assignments; He was laying down the basics of reality. You really shouldn't steal, or murder, or dishonor your parents, or worship any other god if you want to be happy and well. All acts against such laws are merely denials of their status as truths, an action that clearly reveals the supreme idiocy of evil: it actually claims, with a straight face and sober disposition, that lies, theft, murder, dishonor, idolatry, etc., are good for the soul.
It is at this point that punishment comes to wake the sleepers from the dead, out of dreams and into daylight. Punishment reaffirms the truthfulness of the law: you can only succeed and be happy when you obey what is real. Therefore, God does not punish out of egotistical sadism, but rather out of benevolent mercy to shake us to our senses. Should not this be obvious, though? Our own parents (if they were proper) punished us, if not to save us from some immediate physical threat, then to teach us that in the real world, negative actions necessarily entail negative consequences. That is how our parents taught us, and our Heavenly Father is no different.

-Jon Vowell

"What goes up..."

"I have said, 'Ye are gods,' and all of you are children of the most High. But ye shall die like men, and fall like one of the princes." Ps. 82:6, 7

"How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer,...for thou hast said in thine heart, 'I will ascend into heaven'...yet thou shalt be brought down to hell...." Is. 14:12-15

"Thine heart was lifted up.... I will cast thee to the ground...." Ez. 28:17

"God resisteth the proud...." Js 4:6

Pride is quite literally a state of fighting against God, because it is (at bottom) a claim on His throne. Pride is when an individual claims the place of God in their life. Such an act can take various forms: it can be an overt and obvious malice, or it can hide itself under a veneer of innocence; it can consume the whole life or be sequestered to one besetting sin. Regardless of its form, it only has one result, for fighting against God can only have one result: to be cast down, i.e., humiliation.
Older Christianity was right when it labelled Pride (superbia) as the foundation of all sins, for sin always starts with some sort of attempted rebellion against God, both His character and His commands. When we aren't breaking His laws, we are making Him into something that He is not, whether it be a sentimental grandfather or a non-existent fantasy. All are attempts by prideful man to stand where God alone can stand (Ps. 82:1).

-Jon Vowell

On Darkness (and a word on Light)

"...Thou that dwellest between the cherubims, shine forth. [...] Turn us again, O God, and cause Thy face to shine; and we shall be saved." Ps. 80:1b, 3, 7, 19

"In Him was life, and the life was the light of men." John 1:4

Jesus spoke of the "light of life" (John 8:12), a characteristic obviously belong to Jesus (the light of the world; John 8:12) and God (who is Light; I John 1:5). According to Scripture, being outside of God is properly understood as being in darkness, for what is darkness? Firstly, it is a confusion and deception, for it hides and distorts all things, so that our perception is clouded and unreliable. We follow every shadow and shade, our blinded eyes unable to see what is real. So also, those outside of God are blind (II Cor. 4:3-4), and they cannot see what they stumble over (Prov. 4:19).
Darkness is also a terror, a terror because of its deception. To be lost without sight or clear perception is to be trapped in the utter unknown, as if the unknown were dark ocean depths that one drowns in. We see no paths, we cannot identify any sound or face, whether they be real or of our own imagination. We cannot discern between friend and foe, threat and comfort. We cannot even identify ourselves, for every mirror merely reflects the darkness. So also, those outside of God know only fear and dread, for the world is dark and pitiless (I John 5:19), and they cannot find a place of safety and rest; neither can their hearts comfort them, for they are dark as well (Jer. 17:9).
This is the proper state of man outside of God: deceived and afraid. Thus, being redeemed by God is properly understood as being in the light; not just a single flash, but a continuous burning that illumines the darkness without and the darkness within, serving as guide and revealer not only for the pathways of the world but also the depths of the soul. It is this light that man desires, this light that Christ reveals: God is that light.

-Jon Vowell

Holiness (or, The Harmony of Fullness)

"[Moses said,] 'Show me now Thy way, that I may know Thee, that I may find grace in Thy sight...." Ex. 33:13

"Thy way, O God, is in holiness...." Ps. 77:13a (rev. marg.)

"Be ye holy, for I am holy." I Peter 1:16

Holiness is not mere morality; to"be holy" does not mean simply to "do good." Good action arises from holiness, but it is not the definition of holiness. Holiness, properly understood, means perfection in the sense of absolute completion, without lack or defect. All things that are of their nature lacking or defective cannot partake in such completion (for then it would no longer be completion), and thus holiness is also understood as sanctification, i.e., being "set apart." Subsequently, God alone can be properly called "holy," since in Him is the fullness of all good and true things, and thus He lacks nothing; meanwhile, we who are sinners, fallen and frail, are not holy because as sinners we fall short of God's fullness (Rom. 3:23). In addition, holiness has been understood to be beautiful in that it is the fullness of all good things working and standing in harmony with each other. Thus, older (more medieval) Christians often worshipped what scripture calls, "the beauty of holiness" (Ps. 29:2; 96:9; 110:3; II Chr. 20:21). It is this clockwork perfection, this harmony of fullness, that God has made us for and called us to.
We are not called to good-doing; we are called to God-likeness. We are not here to be moral people; we are here to be encores of the Incarnation (I Cor. 3:16). Christ did not come and die just to simply teach us the Sermon on the Mount, but rather to give us a "righteousness [that would] exceed the righteousness of the scribes and the Pharisees" (Matt. 5:20). That kind of righteousness is the holy righteousness of God (the righteousness that the law was a portrait of), which is given to us in Christ (I Cor. 1:30; II Cor. 5:21). If we do not reconcile our worldview with (1) our high calling (i.e., the holiness of God), and (2) our amazing gift (i.e., the righteousness of God in Christ), then we will bumble about half awake and living lesser lives.

-Jon Vowell

Love and Righteousness

"Help us, O God of our salvation, for the glory of Thy name; and deliver us and purge away our sins, for Thy name's sake...and render unto our neighbors sevenfold into their bosom their reproach, wherewith they have reproached Thee, O Lord." Ps. 79:9, 12

Redemption and damnation, salvation and judgment, love and righteousness; whichever way that you put it, these are the two arms of God's government, two of the most essential qualities of His character. It is these two qualities that are the most sorely attacked today by the religious and secular alike.
We hate the love of God as Scripture presents it, i.e., a holy love that desires to make lovable and lovely the hateful and ugly beloved. It is less like Romeo and Juliet and more like The Taming of the Shrew. It is a love that will not tolerate any stain or blemish, not matter how much we tolerate or even cherish it. We despise such a heavy-handed and true love, so we boil God's love down into either a fluffy sentimentalism that means absolutely nothing or a cruel toleration that winks at the damnation of a soul out of fear of being labelled "mean," "insensitive," or other useless buzz words of contemporary society. The love of God is a consuming fire: all that is imperfect will burn away.
Likewise, we hate the righteousness of God because it directly conflicts with our damnable version of the love of God. If our supreme deity is to be sentimental and tolerant, then He must necessarily not be moral. The sentimental and tolerant man suffuses all things into an incomprehensible whole; the moral man sets everything in rigid distinctions, distinctions like right and wrong, good and evil. Such distinctions are inherent in true righteousness, and thus righteousness is an insufferable eye-sore to the modern world (esp. Modern Christendom). Consequently, they choose not to talk about it; it is too much of a landmine. The righteousness of God is a consuming fire: all that is imperfect will burn away.
If we are to remain loyal to God and His revelations of Himself, then we must maintain the reality of His holy character, i.e., the fullness and harmony of His qualities, viz., love and righteousness. The world does not need sentimental toleration, a fluffy cruelty that "loves" it by amassing it into a pile of indistinguishable nothingness that it can safely ignore; what the world needs is a holy and true love and righteousness that burns away our impurities and makes us fit for itself.

-Jon Vowell

Sovereignty and Evil (or, God and Julian)

"Surely the wrath of man shall praise Thee...." Ps. 76:10a

This is perhaps the hardest part of sovereignty to swallow, viz., that the evil of man (and nature) have their place in the tapestry of God. Often it is very little comfort to tell people that what seems senseless now will make sense in the end. Even if such a statement is true (and it is), it is hardly encouraging to those caught in the midst of the real consequences of real evil. That evil makes sense somewhere else, a place that we will get to one day, does not make the pain go away. Indeed, the element of mystery can be a joyous surprise, but also a frustrating agony. Darkness and silence are cold comforts, at least that's what the post-WW II twentieth century concluded.
Then again, perhaps the sovereignty of God in regards to evil is cold comfort because it is not considered fully. The truest pain (and subsequent anger) of any evil (both moral and natural) is the apparent senselessness of it all. A great hope burned into the psyche of all humanity is the hope that evil will not triumph, and part of that hope means that even if evil makes and initiates its plans on us, there is something behind it all that undermines their schemes and fits it into the ultimate victory. We could bear the wrath of man (and nature) if that wrath were fundamentally and ultimately supplanted by and in the service of grace and redemption. The mere existence of evil is no true weapon for an atheist or skeptic; the truest weapon is its apparent senselessness. It is that point that we must deal with.
We deal with it incorrectly, though, when we feel like we have to state the exact purpose in detail. God does not give the details of His purpose behind things. The only thing we know is that it will be glory to Him and goodness to us. It is not the details of the fact, however, that matter. Rather, it is the fact itself, i.e., God's sovereignty does have a point, and though it is temporarily hidden from view, a hidden point is a far, far better thing than no point at all. Actually, that every incident, no matter how indecent, is (in truth) all a part a grand purpose, a purpose whose goodness vastly exceeds the summation of the evil allowed in it, has been (and should continue to be) the sole Christian apologetic on the subject. I am not sure when, where, or how the sovereignty of God got turned against us (as though biblical truth could undermine the truth of the Bible), but it should not be so. The sovereignty of God does not mean that "God is in control"; it means what Lady Julian said that it means: "All shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well." That is the hope of the Christian faith, and it is time that we spread that hope around.

-Jon Vowell