A Thrill Of Hope

"You who have made me see many troubles and calamities will revive me again; from the depths of the earth you will bring me up again. You will increase my greatness and comfort me again." Psalm 71:20-21

A shroud hugs the roof of Gotham, glowing red in the distant corner, hanging silver and spooky over the edge of the city. It glows with an ironic, ethereal beauty. A gentle, cool breeze stirs the air, like an almost pleasant shiver. Lights flicker on and off throughout the staggered buildings. Cranes dangle in air, appearing and disappearing in the ever shifting atmosphere.
I worshiped.

*My soul is in the hands of a God who impregnated a fifteen year old Jewish girl. This same God descended as man, born in a barn. He made chairs for thirty years. He was then arrested and beaten by Roman guards. He died a shameful death on a mound of garbage known as 'the skull'. This is my God.
How is it that I, of my own will, choose to entrust my soul to such an unbelievable story? How is that, of my own will, I would give up what could be a fun, wild life of pleasing myself?

I don't.

This omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent Triune God, Creator of the universe, who holds all things together, stirred within my soul a faith that I could not have of my own accord. Not because of anything that I did, being an utterly sinful, corrupted soul- but for His own glory and good pleasure, He willingly laid down his life. In a moment that appeared to the world as defeat and weakness, Christ conquered death. At that moment, my damned soul was bought. God, who was born in a manger in a hick town, willingly gave Himself up to die an incredibly painful, lonely, dark death.

I cannot wrap my mind around how God, the one true God, could do such a thing for fallen mankind. I am awed that I am chosen by this God, that He gave me faith so that I would not have to worry about losing my salvation when I mess things up so terribly. When I have descended to the pits of sin, God looks on me and sees Christ's righteousness. He doesn't see me as a damned sinner, so dysfunctional and astray that there is no hope. He looks on me and sees His beloved Son, who suffered through thirty-three years on this not-so-pleasant earth. I have righteousness through faith. And my ability to have faith is a gift from God.

*Putting my trust in this God who came and lead a lowly, yet remarkable, life isn't like looking at a chair, evaluating whether or not it can support me, and then putting my faith in it by sitting on it. No, the story of God and His redemption of creation it too counter-culture, too against intuition and understanding just to decide, "Oh, I'll put my faith in that." It takes this great and unfathomable God to stir this faith within me.

And there are no words to express the gratitude I feel in being chosen to be a part of this epic story.




*Professor Quiggle gave this moving illustration in my European Reformations class today, in response to the question of the bonded will of man.