God as Father: Lessons I Learned as a Dad (Part 3)

A few months ago I began a blog series that will be irregular (at best) on lessons I have learned from being a dad about God being our heavenly Father--i.e. what it means for God to be our Father, how that impacts our lives, our relationship with Him as our Father, etc. I have learned quite a bit since I became a dad because the father-child relationship analogy that the Scriptures use has become so much more real to me. Well, recently I have been thinking about another aspect of God's fatherhood and our relationship to Him.

My son Gabriel is almost three now, and that means he is in the stage commonly known as "terrible twos," which should really be "terrible twos and threes or maybe even fours." That means that Gabriel is beginning to understand more and more how he is individual with a will of his own and he is desiring to assert his autonomy more and more. Of course, every parent out there knows what is coming next: tantrums. Gabriel now knows what he wants, knows that he is an individual, and knows he does not want to be told what to do, which means we see a lot of tantrums. This is actually part of their developmental process and is a good sign in the grand scheme of mental and emotional development, though it sometimes feels like hell on earth for parents.

This past weekend, for example, we took him to two Halloween activities in our city on Saturday, and at both there was lots of candy, which is what one would expect. Well, we, of course, try to limit his sugar intake, but depending on the day and activity, we might bend the rules a little and let him have more than he normally would. And, we did that Saturday, letting him have a little more candy than normally we would. That, however, was not enough. At a local church's festivities, we cut off the candy because he had had more than enough and we were about to go home and have dinner, and all of a sudden his world went from being loads of fun to a tragedy that in his mind would rival Oedipus' discovery that the oracle at Delphi had been right all along. And, while he did not attempt to gouge out his eyes, the screaming and crying certainly made it sound like he had.

Such tantrums are common in our life right now, and my "gut" responses vary. Sometimes the tantrums are so over-the-top ridiculous that it is all I can do not to laugh. Often they are frustrating, trying my patience to its limits. Most of the time there is mixed in with other emotions a sense of loving pity--pity because he does not understand all the things involved in denying what he thinks he needs, pity because I do not like seeing him sad, pity because I am trying to do what is best for him and he does not understand, pity because his immaturity is making him overreact. Lately these tantrums have also been humbling for me personally, which may seem like an odd response, but allow me to explain.

In my prayer life, there are times when I "vent" to God about things going on and my opinion of how my life is going. Now, those types of prayers are not necessarily bad or sinful because He wants to know what is on our hearts and He knows them anyway. And, certainly honesty with God in our prayer lives is something we need to develop. But, there are times where my "venting" is really just a "grownup" way of describing a tantrum. When I look at Gabriel with pity while in the midst of a tantrum, lately I have thought, "God, is this what I look like to You when I vent in my prayers? Do I look like a child rolling on the ground screaming because I did not get my way?" I am pretty sure I know the answer to those questions, and I do not like it.

I think that is probably the case much of the time. Even though I might veil it in "grownup" language and might not be screaming while rolling on the floor, sometimes it is about the same thing--I am upset because I cannot understand why God is not doing something the way I think that it should be done, and I doing whatever it takes to convince Him that my way is better. It may not involve stomping and screaming, but it is not really any better than a tantrum. Yet, at the same time, when I think, "God, is this what I look like?" I also think "Wow, you are so patient, kind, and loving to me to put up with this." With a toddler, we can cut him some slack because he has not learned how to deal with his emotions properly, but I have no such excuses. And, yet, if I--a sinner and sub-par father--respond with loving pity, how much more does God as my heavenly Father do that for me?

If I am moved with pity because Gabriel does not understand all the things involved in denying what he thinks he needs, then how much more is that true of God? The gap between God's knowledge and my own is far greater than the gap between my knowledge and Gabriel's--I am much less than a toddler in my knowledge compared to God. As the LORD says in Isaiah, "For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts." If I am moved with pity because I do not like to see Gabriel hurt, how much more is that true of my heavenly Father who loves me perfectly? Of course, just like I know it is sometimes necessary for Gabriel to experience disappointment for his own good, so He knows that sometimes it is necessary for His good plan for me. Yet, even though it is necessary, it does not mean He does not experience fatherly sympathy for His confused and hurting child. If I am moved with pity because Gabriel does not understand that I am trying to do what is best for him, how much more is that true of my heavenly Father who always works all things for my good? My wisdom (as limited as it is) far exceeds Gabriel's, and, indeed, Gabriel would not throw a tantrum if he knew what I knew. Well, the same can be said of us. God's wisdom far, far, far exceeds our own, and God always answers our prayers in the way we would have them answered if we knew everything He knew and were as wise as Him. But, just as Gabriel does not understand because his knowledge and wisdom are limited, so I do not understand because my knowledge and wisdom are limited. So, my heavenly Father looks upon me with loving pity and says, "My child, you do not understand, but please trust me, for I love you more than you love your own son." And, if I am moved with pity for Gabriel because his immaturity causes him to overreact, how much more is that true of our loving and understanding heavenly Father? Immaturity does not, of course, excuse Gabriel's reaction and neither does it excuse my "grownup" tantrums, but it does move me to fatherly compassion for my son, and I think the same is true of our heavenly Father.

At the end of the day, I still need to do what is best for Gabriel, as God does for me, but thinking about how much I--a very imperfect father--am moved with love, compassion, and pity for my son makes me so thankful for my heavenly Father who is the perfect Father. If I can respond in love and compassion to my son, most certainly God does to me. Even when I throw a tantrum, He looks upon me with fatherly love because He has adopted me and loved me perfectly in Christ.

There is, of course, another side to this: how I would like Gabriel to respond. I know Gabriel cannot understand many of the decisions Erika and I make concerning him, but I would like him to respond by saying, "You know dad, I don't get it, but I know you love me, so I trust you." Obviously that is pipe dream for Gabriel. Every day Erika and I care for him, feed him, clothe him, love him, give him experiences, and so much more, but when what he thinks he "needs" is challenged, he forgets all that. He so easily forgets how much love we have shown him, so trust in those times is hard. But, am I really any different when it comes to my relationship to God--my heavenly Father? Throughout my life God has provided for me, proved Himself faithful over and over again, and never let me down, and yet when what I think I "need" is challenged, I forget all that too. I bet my heavenly Father would like me to say, "You know Dad, I don't get it, but I know You love me, so I trust You."

That is what the Psalms do. Do you know what the most common type of psalm in the book of Psalms is? It is not the hymns, the confidence psalms or the wisdom psalms. It is not the thanksgiving psalms or psalms of remembrance. It is the laments. There are more psalms of lament than any other type of psalm. These psalms express intense sadness, suffering, and confusion about life, and there are more of them than any other type. That alone should tell us something about the Christian life: God's people experience real suffering and pain often. But, the psalms of lament have a characteristic to them that keeps them from descending into "grownup" tantrums.

These psalms (e.g. Ps 13, 22, 26, 42-44, 74, 77, 79, 88, 102, 130, 143) almost always follow a very important structure. They begin with an invocation to God for help. Then, there is a complaint section that may lead to a plea for help, confession of sin, or cry for vindication. And, then, most importantly, all but one of them end with confident praise to God. For example, Ps. 13 ends with:

⁵ But I have trusted in your steadfast love;
    my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.
⁶ I will sing to the Lord,
    because he has dealt bountifully with me.

In this psalm, David has not seen any resolution between the beginning and the end, but even when he complains and cries out for God to act, he does not forget what is true about God. Even though it does not feel that way to him, he reminds himself of the truth.

I think we can learn something about how we should pray when confused or in pain from these psalms. It is okay for us to pour out our hearts to God and cry out to Him in pain and confusion. In fact, it is good for us to do so, but when we do that, we must never act arrogantly towards God--thinking we know better--or question His character--accusing Him of wrongdoing. The psalms of lament always ground their complaint in the goodness of God and then come back to that goodness with faith at the end, even when everything in the life of the psalmist seems to testify to the contrary. The psalms of lament combine honest, intense expressions of grief with truthful, biblical, faithful reminders of who God really is.

When we pray and "vent" like that, then we are not throwing a "grownup" tantrum but are doing exactly what we want our children to do: saying, "Dad, I don't get it, but I know You love me, so I trust You." That is a righteous lament; not a toddler tantrum.

By His Grace,
Taylor

Loneliness, A Prayer

"And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age." ~ Matthew 28:20b

In some previous posts I have mentioned that I am taking a class on worship and our professor, Dr. Derek Thomas, has encouraged us to write out prayers on various subjects so that we can think about how we would lead a congregation in prayer before a sermon. This is not so that we would memorize prayers but so that we would engage in the practice of "studied prayers" and be prepared to pray well before a congregation.

Below is one I wrote about loneliness. I hope you find it helpful, perhaps something you can pray through, and perhaps a blessing to your soul.

Triune God, we have praised You this morning for Your mighty deeds. Father, You planned redemption from the beginning and You have sent Jesus to die, be raised, and be glorified for our justification, adoption, sanctification, and glorification. Jesus, after You accomplished redemption for us, You poured out Your Spirit on us so that we might be united to You and receive all the benefits of redemption that You won for us. Spirit, You live in us, convict us of sin, remind us of the gospel, and remake us into the image of Jesus more and more every day. Triune God, we cannot help but praise You for this. However, some here probably find it hard to praise You right now. In this sinful world, it is difficult not to feel alone sometimes.

There are times, Sovereign Lord, when we know the truth of Your salvation to us, yet, at the same time, feel so alone. Sometimes we feel abandoned by those around us and even You feel further than the moon. We feel like the psalmist who wrote, "I, O LORD, cry to You; in the morning my prayers come before You. O LORD, why do You cast my soul away? Why do You hide Your face from me?" We feel, like the psalmist, that You and our companions have become darkness to us. We ask, like David, "Will You forget me forever? How long will You hide Your face from me?" Show us that You are not far from us. Father, remind us of Your love. Jesus, remind us of Your promise to be with us always. Spirit, life up our souls and comfort our hearts in the joy of our salvation.

Forgive us, Father, for our unbelief and help our unbelief. Remind us of Your love, Your promises, and that if our friends leave us, even if our fathers and mothers forsake us, You will receive us. Jesus, remind us that You are our great High Priest who knows our weakness. You know what it is like to be forsaken and alone. Remind us that in the Garden of Gethsemane, Your disciples could not even stay awake to pray for You. Remind us that Peter betrayed You and all others felt in Your hour of need, save for John. Help us to hear those words You cried on the cross, "My God, my God, why have You forsaken me," so that we can remember that because You were forsaken, we will never be. Spirit, comfort our souls with the knowledge that You have united us to Christ and sealed us for all eternity. Help us, Spirit, to never doubt in the dark these things we have known to be true while in the light.

O, Sovereign Lord, bring community around us to help us battle the loneliness. We need Your Church, our brothers and sisters in Christ. If we have isolated our selves, break down our pride and drive us to lean our brethren. Bring us a loving friend to listen and give us the strength to open our hearts to them. You have given us this great community of believers, help us to make use of it. If there are any here who feel that no one cares, raise up support for them from our community.

Finally, Lord, give us the strength to always praise You, even when the loneliness closes in. Even when we complain to You in prayer, lead us always back to praise. As You did with David, help us to still say, "But, I have trusted in Your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in Your salvation. I will sing to the LORD, because He has dealt bountifully with me." Bring us back to that praise always, Lord, as You heal our hearts.

It is in the name of Jesus, the one who was forsaken for us so we do not have to be, that we pray. Amen.

By His Grace,
Taylor 

Psalm 109 and Imprecation

"[W]hen persecution bursts upon the Church… where Christian pastors and their flocks have been subjected to torture, inhuman indignities and death, when the faith of God's people is severely tried by the enemies of the Lord, Christians instinctively have turned to these psalms. Some people may have considered the Imprecatory Psalms an offense in better days, but their relevancy has been brought home to them, when the forces of evil have persecuted and tortured them because of belief in God and faith in the Lordship of Jesus Christ." ~ Raymond F. Surburg

Several posts ago, I wrote a short review of a book called Crying for Justice: What the Psalms Teach Us About Mercy and Vengeance in an Age of Terrorism. It is about the imprecatory psalms and their usefulness for the Church. Recently, I wrote a paper for a class on Psalm 109, the "the 'imprecatory' psalm par excellence," as some have called it. In examining this psalm closely the reader will get a taste for the imprecatory psalms in general and how to handle them. In the paper I argue that Psalm 109 is a legitimate and righteous prayer of imprecation not only for David in his OT setting but for God’s people today in extreme circumstances of sustained injustice and oppression. If you are interested, you can read the paper here. I pray it is a blessing to you and helps you to understand the Psalms better, for God's glory and your good.

By His Grace,
Taylor

Imprecatory Psalms: "let curses come upon him!"

"It is legitimate at times for God's present people to utter prayers of imprecation or pleas for divine vengeance--like those in the psalms--against the recalcitrant enemies of God and his people. Such expression is consistent with the ethics of the Old Testament and finds corresponding echo in the New." Crying for Justice: What the Psalms Teach Us About Mercy and Vengeance in an Age of Terrorism (pg. 109)

The imprecatory (cursing) psalms have been a point of debate and sometimes embarrassment for Christians.  What do we do with psalms that say things like "let curses come upon him!" and "May his children be fatherless and his wife a widow!"? They are in God's Word, so unless you want to dispense with divine inspiration (which some do, but that is another debate), then you have to figure out what to do with them. I want to recommend this book: Crying for Justice: What the Psalms Teach Us About Mercy and Vengeance in an Age of Terrorism by John N. Day. It is an excellent resource that argues for a righteous place for the imprecatory psalms "in extreme instances, used when God's people face sustained injustice, hardened enmity, and gross oppression." (pg. 115)

Day starts out by stating the case he is going to argue and some basic tenants that should guide the discussion (see the below quote from his conclusion). Then, in Part 1, he analyzes some of the common attempts to rationalize (or ignore) these psalms and finds them wanting. He also brings the much-needed cultural context to the imprecatory psalms by analyzing cursing in the context of the Ancient Near East. This is extremely important because in our modern culture we think of cursing very differently from the ancient Hebrews, Canaanites, Mesopotamians, Hittites, etc. Day reminds modern-day readers:

[I]n the community of Israel, as in the broader ancient Near East, the legitimate curse was an expression of human powerlessness.... It was directed against powerful or unconvictable offenders. Indeed, the legitimate curse was an act of faith that God's desire for justice, as expressed in the Law and ethical teachings of religion, would be reflected in real life. When viewed in this light, the so-called imprecatory psalms and other imprecatory texts, which seem so vicious and strange to the modern reader, are seen to be expressions of faith in the just rule of Yahweh in situations in which the covenant member or community can see no other source of help or possible means of securing just treatment. (pg. 37)

In Part 2, Day takes a look at the three toughest psalms--Psalm 58; 109; 137--because they represent the three major categories of imprecation--social enemy, personal need, and national need. Justification for these three psalms will give one the lens through which to view the smaller, less harsh imprecatory psalms. Finally, in Part 3, Day looks at the imprecatory Psalms in light of the New Testament. He irons out the apparent contradictions and shows examples of New Testament imprecation (cursing) that fall into the category of use "in extreme instances." Overall, the New Testament shows us that:

Whereas "love and blessing" is the dominant ethic for the believer within both testaments, "cursing and calling for divine vengeance" reflect the believer's extreme ethic. They are a legitimate resort in extreme circumstances, against the hardened, deceitful, violent, immoral, and unjust. (pg. 115)

Finally, Day sums up his whole book in his conclusion. This is the most useful part of the book. If you do not have time to read the whole book, read the conclusion (about seven pages). Day pretty much writes his own book review in the conclusion by summarizing his main argument and all of his chapters. If you run across something you are not sure about or do not understand, then you can go to that chapter for the expanded discourse. Below is the beginning of that conclusion:

This present work has argued and defended the premise that the imprecatory psalms' retain an appropriate place in the life of the Christian church. It is legitimate at times for God's present people to utter prayers of imprecation or pleas for divine vengeance-like those in the psalms-against the recalcitrant enemies of God and his people. Such expression is consistent with the ethics of the Old Testament and finds corresponding echo in the New.

This position is rooted, first, in the establishment of the psalms' theology of imprecation as the very essence of Torah. The principles of such theology were well established in the promise of divine vengeance expressed in the Song of Moses, the principle of divine justice outlined in the lex talionis, and the assurance of divine cursing as well as blessing articulated in the inaugural covenant of God with his people. Second, this theology continues essentially unchanged through to the end of the canon and is used to undergird the imprecations in the New Testament, infrequent though they are.

Moreover, in addressing this issue of imprecations in the psalms, certain factors were initially noted.

First, the vengeance appealed for by the pious in the imprecatory psalms was never personally enacted. Rather the appeal was always explicitly or implicitly addressed to God. The realization of that vengeance was left to him alone.

Second, the characteristically impassioned imprecatory pleas were based on the covenant promises of God. The most notable of these promises is "he who curses you, I will curse" (Gen. 12:3), and "vengeance is mine, I will repay" (Deut. 32:35).

Third, both testaments record examples of God's people on earth calling down curses or crying for vengeance, the expression of neither sentiment accompanied by any textual hint of divine disapproval. Rather, in their limited and appropriate circumstance, such utterances are presented as justified and commendable. Indeed, Scripture records an instance in which God's perfected saints in heaven appeal for divine vengeance, using language reminiscent of certain of the imprecatory psalms. They are comforted by the assurance that judgment is near (Rev. 6:9-11). (pp. 109-10)

If you want to read more you will have to buy the book or borrow a copy. I really recommend that because it is well worth your time. (I would say you can borrow my Kindle copy but I just check and apparently this book is one of the few you cannot loan from Kindle to Kindle.) If nothing else, the perhaps Day's closing words will convince you to read this book:

Thus, Christians can find in the imprecatory psalms a divinely instilled source of strength and honor and can feel permitted to use them, as appropriate, in corporate and individual worship. In this, the Christian must embrace the tension inherent in reflecting both "the kindness and severity of God" (Rom. 11:22). It is a tension that previous generations of the faithful have also faced. The imprecatory psalms are a reminder that a war is raging. It is a war of opposing powers, with casualties, traitors, and triumphs. The principal weapon of that warfare is the dual-edged message of the gospel--a message not of sweet passivity, but of life and death itself. (pg. 116)

By His Grace,
Taylor