MENU
There’s an old story about a little girl taking her first train ride with her parents back when trains were a popular mode of travel.
As night fell, her mother—seeing how anxious she was—lifted her into the upper bunk of the sleeper car. She reassured her: “Up here you’ll be nearer to God, and He will watch over you."
Silence settled over the car, but soon the girl grew afraid. In a soft voice she called out:
“Mommy, are you there?”
“Yes, dear,” came the reply.
A little while later, in a louder voice, she asked:
“Daddy, are you there too?”
“Yes, dear,” he answered.
This back-and-forth repeated several times until one of the weary passengers finally lost his patience. He shouted: “Yes, we’re all here—your father, your mother, your brother, all your aunts and cousins! Now settle down and go to sleep!”
There was a pause. Then, in hushed tones, the little voice asked: “Mommy… was that God?”
I hear accounts frequently of people who grew up feeling like God was always mad. Flipping through pages of various Old Testament accounts, at times, I can certainly see why.
I relate more to the Person of Jesus. Always have. Did He get angry? Of course, He did. Righteous indignation is what it’s called. Jesus recoiled whenever God’s glory was at stake, but did so without sinning.
Another thing I love about Jesus, no matter how I try to imagine Him, He always appears pleasant. For the life of me, I can’t picture Him any other way. No scowling. No sigh of frustration. Just pleasing and pleasant.
Does that mean I’m making Christ in my own image? As far as appearance goes, probably. But to be honest-which of us hasn’t pictured what Jesus the Messiah might look like in our mind?
Suppose we use the New Testament as our starting point, not every time, but on occasion, and work our way backwards, having the benefit of hindsight. In that case, God the Father feels more approachable, almost like wearing Christ-tinted glasses and beginning your reading back in Genesis 1:1.
That’s not altogether an unrealistic approach, and here’s why:
• Paul, speaking of Christ, writes: “He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation.” (Colossians 1:15)
• Jesus said, “Whoever has seen Me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in Me?” “If you’ve seen Me, you’ve seen the Father.” (John 14:9–10) It’s important to point out that Jesus had flesh and blood; God the Father has neither; He is Spirit.
• The writer of Hebrews, describing Jesus, says: “He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of His nature, and He upholds the universe by the word of His power.” (Hebrews 1:3)
That same principle applies to Old Testament stories and systems:
Why all the bloody, gory sacrifices?
• “Without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness... For it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins.” (Hebrews 9:22; 10:4)
• “Knowing that you were not redeemed with perishable things like silver or gold from your futile way of life inherited from your forefathers, but with precious blood, as of a lamb unblemished and spotless, the blood of Christ.” (1 Peter 1:18-19)
What are we to make of a God who dwells in tents?
• “The word became flesh and dwelt among us.” (John 1:14)
How can we understand the myriads of laws and prophetic oracles in
the Torah?
• “Then beginning with Moses and with all the Prophets, He explained to them the things written about Himself in all the Scriptures.” (Luke 24:27)
When C. S. Lewis first began exploring Christianity, he admitted that the God he encountered in the Old Testament frightened him. But after meeting Christ in the Gospels, everything shifted. Lewis wrote that in Christ, God became “not the frightened reverence of a slave, but the delighted obedience of a son.”
No wonder Lewis’ classic work, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, began with an open wardrobe door. The God of the Old Testament reminds me of Narnia, like a vast, uncharted land waiting to be explored.
