Love of God is a strange thing to our culture. This is the
land of the prenuptial agreement, the careful negotiation of territory
(physical and moral), the angry defense of right and privileged (real and
perceived). It is interesting to me that
all the while, when we as a nation and a culture proclaim that we are
religious, not far below the surface, we are actually a people who value the “art
of the deal.”
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Is that the way it is with us? When was the last time we found
it hard to believe, to be a person of faith? How many times have we heard our
doubts expressed in comments like this – if there was a God, how could he let
this thing happen?
When we see or hear or feel this, it is time for us to
recall that God’s limitless love for us is signified by a cross. Even God, the
only one for whom pain is not a necessity does not avoid that pain, does not
escape its grasp. In the midst of that which breaks our hearts in two, God
remains to abide with and to comfort. Sometimes, it takes that fracture to
allow God finally to enter hearts that have been hardened along the way.
We do not know why things happen the way they do, but we
know from the great cloud of witnesses that has preceded us, that time and time
again, God can yet bring life out of the darkness and the silence even of death
itself. When we doubt God’s goodness profoundly, God makes the move – God enters
our ruptured hearts and acts to transform the ashes of our sorrow into still
greater love.
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