The Alelyon (one another) passages in the New Testament:

Do not lie to each other but speak the truth to each other in love.

(Ephesians 4:14, 25; Colossians 3:9) – Part 3

In Book 7 of his Confessions, the early church writer Augustine speaks of discovering that all that is true in the world comes from God. Knowing that Jesus speaks of himself as the Way, the Truth, and the Life, Augustine’s conclusion, as someone being led by the Spirit, was rather inescapable. After all, this is the experience of anyone being pursued by God: Inklings and glimpses of reality in our lives all come together when he captures us for his kingdom.

Now, before panic rises in our hearts at the thought that I am about to plunge into some deep pool of abstract philosophy, let me assure you that I have much more benign reasons for invoking our ancient friend. If you’ve been reading along, you know that we have been pulling meaning from the Apostle Paul’s instructions about lying and truth-telling. One of our primary conclusions has been that the foundation, the essence, and the goal of truth is found in the gospel. You could really say that they ARE the gospel.

Why the gospel? Because in the good news about Jesus is a summary of 1.) who we are (loved by God despite being idolatrous and rebellious sinners incapable of living up to our status as men and women created in his image); 2.) who God is (the sovereign, good, just, wise, loving creator, redeemer, and judge of the universe), 3.) what the Father has done (sending the Son to become human, to die on the cross, to rise from death, to give us the Spirit); and 4.) what happens when the twain do meet (slaves become sons and daughters, sinners transformed into saints, enemies into friends).

These are watershed truths. On either side of them is the decisive destiny of eternal existence, either gloriously reflecting the beauty of God, or hopelessly in thrall to consummate evil. But they are also realities that make enduring impacts on our lives through sometimes seemingly trivial decisions, thought patterns, ideas, encounters with diverse personalities, and confrontations with disparate circumstances. In speaking this way I am, of course, asserting that the biblical claims and narratives about the universe – especially those related to the Lord’s attributes – are incontrovertible.

It’s pretty rare for Christians to verbally contradict God’s word, except in moments of extreme candor.  Yet we experience at least some disconnect between what we declare as certainties and a kind of living with question marks about them. We often confront a nagging skepticism, even cynicism, that proposes the idea that God’s character and his promises are too good to be true. Our feeble faith faces so many headwinds pressing against our desire – which is really and truly given to us by the Spirit – to make a wholehearted, unequivocal, unreserved surrender – not simply to an idea of goodness, but to the Father of goodness himself.

Why such a big deal over one point of belief among many? Think about the childhood prayer that many of us learned before any other: God is great, God is GOOD. Think about the first sin of unbelief that brought so much misery into the world: Adam and Eve allowing the devil to convince them that somehow God was holding out on them, cheating them of his best. Think about how often we operate with a kind of prudent pessimism, trying to organize and control life “just in case” the Father is not quite up to his self-description. Most of all think about the consequences of unconditional faith. What would it mean to have and rest in and make decisions by and connect to others through and look forward to the future in light of the gift of faith that the Spirit wants to plant at the center of our beings?

What would believing and trusting in God’s goodness do to our minds? Let’s especially consider the twin scourges of fear and anxiety that consistently plague our thinking. From the biblical point of view, there’s pretty much an empty set of things to be afraid of (see the preposterous claim that “the Lord is my light and my salvation, I don’t fear … ” – Pss. 27:1). I think if we took a poll among us, we could come up with several hundred things that terrify us: the rustling sounds of animals on a camping trip (stupid chipmunks that sound like bears), the possibility of debilitating illness, the prospect of losing a job, the future death of friends and family, the certainty of our own passing from this life, and calamities that we can’t even name but fear nonetheless. In the call to peace and rest, immersion in the Lord’s goodness transcends and overcomes and, in the end destroys every fear and wipes away every tear.

Or what would grasping the power of divine goodness do to our relationships? The call to live in love is a profound one that challenges every limitation that comes from being fallen human persons. Our confidence is secure, though in the recognition that all the aspects of love – forgiveness, forbearance, mercy, service, patience, compassion – have a foundation in the abiding and abounding goodness of God. Our family has a saying: It is our weaknesses and the fact that we are sinners together that allows us to love each other all the more. Why? Because we are each under an equal blessing and provision of God’s acceptance of us in spite of (really by virtue of) our fallenness. In the call to love, immersion in the Lord’s goodness transcends and overcomes our wickedness and un-goodness.

So whether calming our fear and anxiety or inspiring our love, the truth of God’s goodness, hand in hand with that of his greatness, provides a comforting foundation for freedom. He is not too good to be true; he is better than we could imagine. It is we who are short of believing and partaking of the feast of goodness that he sets out before us even in the presence of our enemies. Of course, I am not talking about the silly, false and dangerous concepts of faith that presume on the Lord as our divine Goose that lays the golden egg, our heavenly lottery ticket, or some kind of Casino Jesus. We know too much of Scripture and Christian testimony to stray into that swamp. But I am suggesting that we confess together that we have not thought well enough or broadly or richly enough of the fullness of our inheritance in the Spirit, and that there is a call to repent and believe the complete gospel of goodness.

Which leads us to ask the obvious questions: Why is it sometimes so hard to believe and access the promised goodness of God? Why do Christians swing wildly between living in spiritual poverty on the one hand and spouting nonsense that postulates a prosperity faith world on the other? Can we find a gift from the Spirit that allows us to immerse ourselves and rejoice in our good God even in the midst of the profound disappointments that surround us? I think we can find some sustaining answers …

… next time …