On things spiritual.

"There is a difference between the observable universe and the physical universe."
-Chris Impey

Coming across the aforementioned sentence during astronomy was supposed to serve the purpose of driving the author's point home.  Unfortunately, it actually distracted me.  Something about the wording reminded me of another quote:

"Methinks that in looking at things spiritual, we are too much like oysters observing the sun through the water, and thinking that thick water the thinnest of air."
-Herman Melville

Another one that came to mind, too, from C.S. Lewis' Miracles.  In it, he describes reality as a sort of building with several floors, where we don't know what is happening on the other floors.  Of course, if you've ever stayed in a noisy hotel, you know that floors of buildings aren't completely cut off from each other.  You might catch glimpses- or, more likely, noises that sound like elephants at 2 a.m.- but you can't fully understand what's going on unless you are actually present on the floor. C.S. Lewis explains it much more elegantly, but I unfortunately cannot remember where in the book he discussed it.  I'm sorry.

Anyway, a thought has been playing through my head recently, and it goes like this:

I'm glad I serve a God that I could never imagine fully.

Yes, sometimes faith is frustrating.  Yes, I long for a close and personal relationship with my Savior, which would be a lot easier if He wasn't so unlike anything I've ever experienced.  Yes, there are days that I wish Christianity was always easy to understand, believe, and live.

But what if it was?

If I always had the answers, do you know what that would mean?
It would mean that God was like me.  That's the only way I'd be able to fully comprehend Him.  (Although, to be honest, I don't fully understand myself, but I tend to think that's because I was made by an intelligence greater than mine.)

That's actually pretty terrifying.  Given the two alternatives, I would take uncertainty every time.

But it's not just that.  I love the fact that I will never run out of things to be taught by God.  All the days of my life, He will continue to gently correct my perceptions and replace them with reality.  I can go deeper and deeper and never reach His end.  And I will never have to lose the sense of wonder and amazement that fills me when I ponder His character in all the ways He reveals it: His Word, His Spirit, His creation.

Just to be clear, I am not trying to imply that this means I don't need to endeavor to comprehend God to the fullest extent of my ability.  I'm simply rejoicing that that struggle will never end, until I see Him as He is.

"Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known.  But we know that when Christ appears, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is.  All who have this hope in Him purify themselves, just as He is pure."
-1 John 3:2-3

God's love and tautologies

     I've recently been working my way through a book by C.S. Lewis, and it has been simultaneously entertaining and enlightening.  In other words, it's exactly what I would expect from him.  That's why he's one of my favorite authors.
     Let's switch topics for a minute, shall we?  I have a lovely little definition to share with you.  You may have already heard it, but I want to make sure.

     Tautology:
   Repetition that does not contribute to clarifying the meaning.  

     I have actually heard this word used in conversation.  Last year, a quizmaster in Bible quizzing happily pointed out to us that Peter was a master of tautology with his statement of, "In the last days, scoffers will come, scoffing..."  (2 Peter 3:2, excerpt)
      
     If that helps you remember the definition, great.  When I came across it in my book, I had to look it up again.  The statement I read was this:

"'God is love' may be a tautology to the seraphim; not to men."  

-C.S. Lewis, Miracles

     Those words have been rolling around in my head for the past few days, sinking in.  I've been wondering what it would be like to have your definitions of God and love so meshed together that they become needless repetition.  It's a staggering thought.
     On Sunday, a missionary visited our church.  He spoke about how we let our own self-loathing cheat us out of intimacy with God.  It struck me, because it's something I'm familiar with.  I cannot tell you how many times, as I've marveled over God's love to me, I've simultaneously been asking, "Why?"  
            The missionary pointed out that we've done nothing to deserve God's grace, but God chose to love us anyway.  He loves us the way we are, not the way we think that we should be.  Then He begins the work of making us like himself.
     He didn't say anything that I'd never heard before, but it was exactly what I needed to hear.
     "I AM love."  God seemed to be telling me.  "It's a tautology.  Don't you get it?"
     I've been acting in a (shamefully) typical manner, trying to make this all about me.  Now that that's out of the way, I'm hoping to experience God's love in entirely new ways.  I'm so excited.