Betrayal

Hanging out with friends on the weekend, we made a kid welcome. He later nicked a ball and lied about it. One of my friends said that lying's the thing she hates most; it's a betrayal of trust. So I got to thinking, is that all that lying is? Is that the only reason why it's horrible? What about lying about other things? . . .

The Bible says that in our hearts we all know there's a God: “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge. There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. Their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world.” (Psalm 19:1-4) or “For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse.” (Romans 1:20). We lie when we say we don't believe he exists.

But does the lie matter? Maybe it's dumb, but it doesn't hurt anyone, it doesn't make you a bad person. You aren't betraying anyone's trust.

This is true if God is god, a force, fact, concept or philosophy. But what if he is a personal God?

What if it's like saying a person doesn't exist? You are dead to me; I no longer have a son. This is so much more than a betrayal of trust; it's betrayal and rejection of everything you ever shared together, everything they ever did for you and meant to you and you to them, it's betrayal of them. And this of your Creator God? He who knit you together in your Mother's womb and who daily gives you food and breath?

Your lie spits in his face.

Of all who you might betray, he is the one to whom you owe allegiance. He is the one who should never be betrayed.

He is right to be angry. He is right to cast you from him, you who first cast him away. He is right to destroy you.

And he will, for to overlook such betrayal would mean it never really mattered.

So in your place, he sent his Son, that he might cast the Son away and destroy him, for you. That it might not be overlooked but that you might never suffer judgement. In place of punishment, standing before us – the betrayers – is the risen Lord Jesus. He says, I have paid the price. Be sorry for what you have done. Accept my gift. Be my brother and my sister. Be my Father's beloved child once more.

Grace and the Miracles of Gandalf and Frodo

I watched the Lord of the Rings trilogy over Easter. It gladdened my heart.

Gandalf reminds me of the older, wiser people who understand. Who speak and live with truth and provide example and teaching and solidity when all is in turmoil. Who, from their soft hearts, speak simple concern and comfort.

Frodo is one of those who suffer. He is at once very weak and very strong. He thinks himself nothing special; and though he realises the importance of his quest, each day is just another hard day. He would be baffled to know that if even the mighty beheld his journey, they would be humbled. When Frodo takes another step, when he speaks kindly to Gollum, when he apologises to Sam, we clap our hands. And the devil cries out.

Before Frodo set out, Gandalf gave him this counsel: 'All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.'. And what to do with the little strength we have.