Peter

Peter is an enigma. Brash and boisterous, he constantly needs correction. Yet, he is the one to first recognize the Messiah, confessing him earlier than anyone else. He remains the only person other than Christ himself to walk on water. Yes, I am aware he began to sink; but that is the very essence of Peter. At once, he was bold enough to ask of the Lord to walk on water, and frail enough to sink like most of us would. Peter is an enigma.

The Cambridge Dictionary defines an “enigma” as something that is mysterious and seems impossible to understand completely. That covers it nicely and succinctly wraps up Peter.  Brash enough to tell his Lord that he will never have to suffer (and called Satan for his efforts), yet bold enough to  proclaim Christ successfully to thousands on Pentecost. Healing as many as could even touch his shadow, yet shrinking back before Pharisees, afraid to proclaim the gospel, needing the condemnation of Paul in one of the most embarrassing confrontations of Acts. 

Yet, did Peter hold it against Paul? Evidently not, for Peter himself, in his last epistle declares Paul’s writings to be holy scriptures, providing a strong passage on the inspiration of the New Testament. Our Lord called him the Rock, and he endeavored to be that for the sake of others, but there were so many times he failed. I wonder if he came to see it as I have. He was the Rock, in paving the way to Jesus through confession. All other Christians were to follow his confession of Christ. He further was the Rock, of a foundational sort, the Rock which Jesus used to begin building his church. But in leadership, not so much. The church raised up many others to lead the church, overlooking Peter each time, to choose others to lead.

I think that is why I most love this picture of Peter. I am like Peter; uneven in much of my life. One moment standing tall like a rock for Jesus; the next moment becoming embarrassed or forgetful about what I am supposed to do. Uneven. But we have to look a long time to find another to whom Christ expressed his love and blessing to. I am a bit like Peter. Uneven. But loved by Christ dearly. And that is not so bad!

What is Hell?

Talking with friends the other night, the Twilight Zone came up as a topic. I remembered one episode where the main character got all the girls he wanted, won every time he gambled, and partied every night. He thinks he is in heaven. At the end of the show, he is becoming tired of it and makes a comment about being so bored that he is ready to try Hell out. The clincher line was, “Where do you think you are now?”

Lewis somewhat endorses this picture when he writes The Great Divorce. Of course, Lewis deliberately puts his book in the time when people are waiting for judgment, not the place where they go after the final judgment. Still, I remember his characters being able to create giant mansions, and doing so often, whenever someone got too close to them, or offended them. Then, as Lewis develops his plot, we find that the mansions are but vaporous, and do not even keep out the cold hard rain.

All of which leads to the question, “What is Hell?”. According to the speculations of men, it is many things; according to the Bible it is a place of torment without end. Jesus describes it as a place where we do not die, but neither is the fire quenched.  In other words, a place of eternal torment.

Many people do not want to believe in a place of eternal separation from God. They want to believe in the Fluffy God who will simply forgive and forget everything with time. But this is not at all the picture given to us in the Bible.

God is a God of mercy; they see this and heartily endorse it. But God is also a God of justice, and this they tend to forget. God loved the world so much, the Scriptures teach, that he sent his only Son, that whosoever believeth should find everlasting life. Man cannot make himself right; this Christ did perfectly in giving his body to be sacrificed. There is salvation for all who believe, and that means all, even to the worst among us. What about those who refuse to receive what Christ has done, who refuse to believe?

One of my favorites Lewis analogies comes up here. We essentially are saying to God when we believe, “thy will be done.” Christ has died for us. It is the will of God for us to receive him as Savior and Lord. In this sense, we are agreeing with God, “Thy will be done”. But what about those who will not believe? What happens to them?

Many Christians have fallen from the truth because they try to imagine a God of grace somehow expressing grace and in the end the humans live as in a fairy story: they lived happily ever after. But that is not a all what Christ would teach us. If we will not say to God, “Thy will be done”, he will, in the end say unto us, “Thy will be done.” Thus, we have a God of mercy, but also a God of complete justice. It was altogether merciful and justice for God to completely overlook our sins because Christ himself took those sins and died for them on the cross. He tells those of us in the end, if we will not accept his mercy, “thy will be done”. 

If I may borrow from Star Trek, the Prime Directive to Christians becomes an order to spread this good news to a lost world. Now is the day of salvation. Now is the very time to find mercy, a mercy that shall last throughout eternity. It is our path out of this morass; the only path left to us. Let us say to Him, "Thy will be done,” lest we find ourselves someday listening to Him say, “Thy will be done.”

Connections Ramble

I have been privileged to read three great stories all at once and it sort of resulted in an epiphany of sorts. The books happen to be twice famous; The Lord of the Rings (I try to read this book annually), and Mere Christianity (a book which has sharpened how thousands think). The third book is not so famous; I am just beginning the fourth volume. It is a story about a young girl who discovers her power of light, and begins to heal others. To her dismay, she finds when she heals someone that person wants to enslave themselves to her, creating a moral dilemma. How can she help others without the unintentional consequences?

Putting all of this together makes a remarkable synthesis. I got to thinking about what might happen if someone were given sudden powers of healing or fixing the world. Then I remembered Galadriel, whom Frodo freely offers his ring to, and she is sorely tempted, but in the end refuses the temptation. Power in the hands of people is not the good thing others think it to be. 

I started contemplating what might happen if I were given just a bit of power, as a “grandfather” over my family.  What if I had the power to change things in my family? I have often thought that if I just had a bit more money, I would use it to help my children out who are facing severe costs in mortgages. I looked at the very rich, and note that one person seems to make the wealth (the Trump family certainly is an example), while the others have frequently not risen to the heights the maker of the fortune had.

Further, many such families are torn apart by their fortune. They often fight over the monies; they are just as broken as you and me. There appears to be little virtue in great wealth. Moreover, the great wealth that comes upon such men tends to warp them into what I call citadels of pretend righteousness. I know I have a moral code that strictly governs my life; I also fail that code. But to bring that same code upon others who do not share it, might bring evil or hardship upon the very people I would help. I am just a "citadel of pretend righteousness" not accurately representing the moral code we all know to be true.

But the powers I am reading about are far greater than mere wealth. What if I had the power to really change the world? I could do a lot of good at first, but perhaps not even as much good as I think. But, as Lewis points out, I would in the end (probably a lot sooner than the end) still have the idea of good and evil, and I could not possibly keep the moral code. All would soon fall apart in my hands. I cannot help but wonder why the world’s politicians do not more often see this.

Here is the passage, a favorite of mine, from Tolkien:

‘You are wise and fearless and fair, Lady Galadriel,’ said Frodo. ‘I will give you the One Ring, if you ask for it. It is too great a matter for me.’ Galadriel laughed with a sudden clear laugh. ‘Wise the Lady Galadriel may be,’ she said, ‘yet here she has met her match in courtesy. Gently are you revenged for my testing of your heart at our first meeting. You begin to see with a keen eye. I do not deny that my heart has greatly desired to ask what you offer. For many long years I had pondered what I might do, should the Great Ring come into my hands, and behold! it was brought within my grasp. The evil that was devised long ago works on in many ways, whether Sauron himself stands or falls. Would not that have been a noble deed to set to the credit of his Ring, if I had taken it by force or fear from my guest? ‘And now at last it comes. You will give me the Ring freely! In place of the Dark Lord you will set up a Queen. And I shall not be dark, but beautiful and terrible as the Morning and the Night! Fair as the Sea and the Sun and the Snow upon the Mountain! Dreadful as the Storm and the Lightning! Stronger than the foundations of the earth. All shall love me and despair!’

‘I pass the test,’ she said. ‘I will diminish, and go into the West, and remain Galadriel.’1

It is certainly the rare man that gets power and finds himself able to not be twisted beyond recognition. I like to think a great many times such men are great spiritual examples, perhaps Christians in their worldview. Because the truism proves itself: power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. We find it in ourselves to be absolutely incapable of exercising power; I think it is only when we reach that conclusion that we can appreciate the total and complete righteousness of God. God, the giver of right and wrong, is the only one that can exercise it properly; it is just not in me to find righteousness. However, the good news of Christianity is that we can find righteousness in Jesus Christ. In him alone is all of our hope; for if it as Lewis says, we know that we ourselves can never live up to that moral code.

I think that is why all of our attention and devotion must reside in Christ himself. I cannot imagine a way out of the moral dilemma except by faith. He can do it. No other even comes close.

1. Tolkien, J.R.R.. The Lord Of The Rings: One Volume (pp. 365-366). Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. Kindle Edition.