
You might recall the story of that little boy and his mother from last week? There were three self-evident qualities that distinguished that winsome youngster: He knew who he was (his mother’s beloved son), he knew who he belonged to (his ferociously protective mother), he knew where to look for direction (into his mother’s eyes).
He had no identity crises, no abandonment syndromes, no panicky looking around for help, no having to grow up too soon. His mother gave him the fences and he was totally free to play within them.
The “given” in that story is the child’s unconditional trust of his mother — he trusted that she had a good heart and good intentions toward him. Wouldn’t you love to have a God like that?
As we noted, “Our broken world is filled to the brim with bad “father-figures.” By a secret law of the soul, we tend to “paint God with the same brush” as our earthly fathers. That’s why our individual concepts of God are often twisted, contradictory and sometimes, downright terrifying.”
So, for most of us, when told that all we need to do is “trust God,” our inner skeptic immediately goes squinty-eyed and protests, “that’s a mighty big step,” “you’re asking me to trust someone I’ve never seen, met, or heard from directly.”
Touché.
Quite apart from the question of his existence, and setting aside the question of “which God is the right one,” the biggest consideration is, “Can I trust him?” “Does he have a good heart?”
Does God Have a Good Heart?
Suppose we made a complete paradigm shift in our view of God? In his insightful book, Sacred Romance, author John Eldredge writes:
“When we think of God as Author, the Grand Chess Player, The Mind Behind It all, we doubt his heart. As (Herman) Melville said, ‘the reason the mass of men fear God and at bottom dislike him, is because they rather distrust his heart, and fancy him all brain, like a watch.’
“Do you relate to the author when reading a novel or watching a film? Caught up in the action, do you even think about the author? We identify with the characters in the story precisely because they are in the story. They face life as we do, on the ground, and their struggles win our sympathy because they are our struggles also.
“We love the hero because he is one of us, and yet somehow rises above the fray to be better and wiser and more loving as we hope one day we might prove to be.
“The Author lies behind, beyond. His omniscience and omnipotence may be what create the drama, but they are also what separate us from him. Power and knowledge don’t qualify for heart. Indeed, the worst sort of villain is the kind who executes his plans with cold and calculated precision. He is detached; he has no heart.
“If we picture God as the mastermind behind the story — calling the shots while we, like the biblical Job, endure the calamities — we can’t help but feel at times what C.S. Lewis was bold enough to put words to, ‘we’re the rats in the cosmic laboratory.’ Sure, he may have our good in mind, but that still makes him the ‘vivisectionist’ — the experimenter.”
Eldredge goes on to posit a question:
“What if? Just what if we saw God not as Author, the cosmic mastermind behind all human experience, but as the central character in the larger story? Not orchestrating events outside the story, but as a character in the story.”
Christians believe that God did indeed “wrap Himself in skin” (see “Scrutinizing Your Inner God”) and visit planet Earth 2,000 years ago. He descended onto center stage as a fellow participant in the human drama this is being played out to this very day. He gave us a chance to size Him up, ask Him questions, test His grasp of eternal mysteries and fall in love with Him.
How about you? I’ve heard people say something like, “Well, if God came down here and spoke to me, I’d believe.” Well, guess what? He has come down and He has spoken.
He put his “skin in the game” by clothing Himself in flesh and stepping into harm’s way for you — He intervened, He invested — for you. Now He wants you to join Him on the most exciting stage in the cosmos. What’s to lose?
Next time, more about this heroic “central character in the larger story.”
— D.C. Collier is a Bible teacher, discipleship mentor and writer focused on Christian apologetics. A mechanical engineer and Internet entrepreneur, he is the author of My Origin, My Destiny, a book focused on Christianity’s basic “value proposition.” Click here for more information. Click here for previous columns. The opinions expressed are his own.


