Monday, April 19, 2010

This is Not Just a Guitar


My wife has had something on her heart for a little while now. She would like to learn to play the guitar. She told a few friends about this wish.

But we don’t own a guitar. Further, money is tight in our house. She decided against buying one. One day last week, she included a humble item in her prayers:

“God, I don’t see that we should buy a guitar just now. If you want me to play one, show me a way.”

I was home from work the very next day at lunchtime, when my wife answered a knock at the door. It was a friend stopping by unexpectedly. The friend had a spare guitar. She had come to give it to my wife—knowing nothing about the decision or the prayer the previous day. It’s all true.

My wife held back most of her tears until the friend was gone. Our friend might have been uncomfortable—too many tears just for this! But the gift was something more than only a guitar. It was another reminder of who God is, because we desperately need to be reminded.

For any of us, the reason why we look to Christ is to find God—the real God. Jesus was a man because God is personal. We forget this. The knowledge is too precious to hold. We look away.

The sophisticated world offers a picture of God that is easier. God is vast, but nothing more. God is indefinable. The word “God” is thus an icon for an abstraction—as bloodless as an infinity sign.

The cross shows something different from this—and someone dearer. In Jesus, we do not just see the God who created, producing the world long ago and far away. Instead, in Jesus, we see the God who creates, the God who is close. Nothing exists except that God made it (John 1:3), and that includes every new and present moment still breathing to life around us. God is still unfolding a plan—a personal plan. In Jesus, we see God as not only vast and indefinable, but also knowable and even small. Here is the God willing to become the size and scope of a man. Here is the beating heart of truth that lies well beyond the infinity sign.

In Jesus, God put on human finiteness. He put on the dependence and lack that we know so well. He found us and showed us his face. He struggled as we do, suffered as we can, and died as a brutally tortured human being would die. Then, he kept going—because God is not contained in a tomb.

“I am with you always,” he said, at the end of his worldly mission and the end of Matthew’s gospel (28:20). Always. Meaning: I am with you, even though they take my physical body away. I am with you, even when they take your physical body away. He is with us—in person. This is who God is.

God is not Santa Claus. My wife and I love the guitar, but we hope we will be just as true to Christ whether he gives us material gifts or not.

Rather, God is revealed in Jesus Christ—this is the important point. This is the point about God that is just as important today, just as vital, as it was when Jesus wore sandals on his feet.

The guitar is not just a guitar. It was God speaking to my family as a person can speak. God, the infinite Father, is also the knowable Son. He love fits our hearts, and his life unfolds within our lives and houses.

The one who constantly creates is still creating, still surprising us, still walking and working alongside us the way a person would. He is with us. This is God. And just like a person, sometimes he reaches out to us. Just like a person, sometimes he responds.