Dabbling with an Unsafe God

“…When the line pulls at your hand, when something breathes beside you in the darkness…it is always shocking to meet life where we thought we were alone. ‘Look out!’ we cry, ‘it’s alive’. And therefore this is the very point at which so many draw back—I would have done so myself if I could—and proceed no further with Christianity. An ‘impersonal God’—well and good. A subjective God of beauty, truth and goodness inside our own heads—better still. A formless life force surging through us—a vast power which we can tap—best of all. But God Himself, alive, pulling at the other end of the cord, perhaps approaching at an infinite speed, the hunter, king, husband—that is quite another matter. There comes a moment when the children who have been playing burglars hush suddenly: was that a real footstep in the hall? There comes a moment when people who have been dabbling in religion suddenly draw back. Supposing we really found Him? We never meant it to come to that! Worse still, supposing He had found us?” —C.S. Lewis, Miracles, XI, Christianity and Religion

Believers want God, but deep inside prefer a safe God, a predictable God, a God who negotiates—who always arrives on time and will return when we expect Him to. But Aslan is not a tame lion, and He has been stalking us.

He is not of our making, but we are of His. He’ll never fit into our elaborate concepts or predictions of Him, for He ‘stands alone in the solitude of Himself’. No one can escape His relentless pursuit or His limitless love. And He has found you.

This is the greatest thing you will ever know, or the most terrifying. If it scares you, worship Him—He treed you to save you; if you are fearful in the darkness, worship all the more—He’s got you for good.

Awesome beyond words.

—j

Applause and the Audience of One

Our reputation is never more important to us than the moment we see ourselves through the eyes of the one we most love. How we live after that moment is truth of our love…

“To follow Jesus is to pay the cost of discipleship, and then to die to ourselves, to our own interests, our own agendas and reputations. It is to pick up our crosses and count the cost of losing all that contradicts his will and his way—including our reputations before the world, and our standing with the people and in the communities that we once held dear. It is to live before one audience—the audience of One, and therefore to die to all other conflicting opinions and assessments. There is no room here for such contemporary ideas as “the looking-glass self”, and no consideration here for trivial contemporary obsessions such as one’s legacy.” —Os Guinness

The Audience of One is watching our play—may the applause we hear be His.

—j