2 posts tagged “glory”
When the Apostle John approached the Throne of the Most High God in Revelation 4, he describes the most utmost glory of God with the most insufficient of words. He grasps for words, but there are none. In Revelation 4:3, John writes "And the one who sat there had the appearance of jasper and carnelian. A rainbow, resembling an emerald, encircled the throne." What glory! And then he continues, writing that, "Also before the throne there was what looked like a sea of glass, clear as crystal."
Before the throne of God, before the Glory of the most worthy and majestic God, we see ourselves. This is what happened to Job in Job 42. He had been beating the drums of his own righteousness and good deeds the whole book. And then God shows up. And in Job 42, he says, "Therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes." After a classroom discussion where we tried to unpack this verse, I came back to my room and opened Matthew Henry's Commentary. This is what he says on this verse: "Even good people, that have no gross enormities to repent of, must be greatly afflicted in soul for the workings and breakings out of pride, passion, peevishness, and discontent, and all their hasty unadvised speeches. The more we see of the glory and majesty of God, the more we see of the vileness and odiousness of sin and of ourselves because of sin, the more we shall abase and abhor ourselves for it." This is what Job understood. Finding himself in the presence of the most glorious and glorified God, he threw himself to his face, and repented in dust and ashes.
Why "in dust and ashes"? If we look back to the second chapter of Job, we see that, "he sat among the ashes," after being covered in boils and losing his entire family. Ashes, especially in the Old Testament, are a archetype for mourning. And so Job came in mourning. Also, the phrase "dust and ashes" was a proverbial phrase used to invoke a sense of lowliness and fragility of human nature. The humanity, and the insufficiency of human flesh. This is what Job came carrying. Dragging it to God. Because he knew that God wants "to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes." (Isaiah 61:3)
So let us come to God, repenting, knowing our condition. And he will see us. And take our ashes and mourning away. And give us a crown of beauty. And we will stand in front of the throne of the Most High. And we will look in the crystal lake. And see ourselves. And then look to God, knowing that he is infinitely more amazing and wonderful and glorious than anything else. Especially our sins. And so we can look away from our own depravity, and towards Him who is most worthy. Amen. So help us. Amen.
This may sound like me ranting, but I am not. This is my true hope for Christianity in the future.
In Portland, there is this amazing church, that has been there for one hundred and ten years. It has a gorgeous steeple, and takes up an entire city block, half of which is a garden, half which is the cathedral. The inside is amazing too. An organ takes up the entire front of the church, there are gorgeous stained glass windows, and the designs in the rafters are amazing. It truly takes my breath away, and every time I get a chance, I go inside. I went to a service, not because I am a fan of traditional churches, but because I wanted to see a service go on in this amazing building. It is the home of First Presbyterian Church in Portland, and I have a deep respect for the church and the preacher, who is actually a very good speaker and teacher of the Word.
I tell this story to make a point: Christianity has lost its place in culture, particularly in art. Not saying the Christianity ought to be strictly cultural; indeed, many heresies have from immersing the church in culture. But the Church has forgotten how to inspire the awe of the Lord through art. Many of the churches I see now meet in warehouses and old supermarkets. Although it is very functional, so were cathedrals. I am not saying that we should return to cathedrals; instead, we need a new generation of Christian-led architecture. A great example is the chapel on Seattle University's campus, as seen below. It isn't old and stuffy, like old chapels. It is new. It redefines architecture
But this doesn't stop with art. It goes to science as well. Christian culture has created this rift with it and science, and so many Christians, even if they have the aptitude, turn their nose up to science, because it is a "godless study." But in history, it was Christians who defined science. Galileo was a devout Catholic. We hold him up as this victim of the Catholic Church, but it was the Catholic Church, and God, to which he bowed. Christians used to be at the forefront of almost every discipline. Great writers were produced, with insightful novels and theological works; now we have Your Best Life Now and Purpose-Driven Life, not exactly a Chesterton or Lewis or Tozer.
I ask, and admonish Christians, to push to the forefront of their disciplines. Glorify God in your work. In your church buildings. Help us soon forget when we built church malls instead of a new kind of cathedral. Let everything we do smell and appear of Christ. Let people stand in awe of churches, and then fall on their knees to the God being worshipped there.
