God desires to share eternity with us
The fullness of divinity — Father, Son and Holy Spirit — wants you
Without grasping that God removes guilt by pardoning our sins and then selflessly offers us a kinship, we are denied a physical and spiritual familial connection that allows us to participate in the goodness and riches of everything that is his.
Tuesday of the Sixteenth Week in Ordinary Time
Micah 7:14-15, 18-20
Psalm 85:2-4, 5-6, 7-8
Matthew 12:46-50
Who is there like you, the God who removes guilt and pardons sin for the remnant of his inheritance? (Micah 7:18)
How often do we put those two things together when we explain or ponder the character of God? Seldom, I think. However, consider that without joining these two, we cannot know God. We won’t experience God’s love, and we won’t enjoy his company.
It’s a dangerous, drastic premise to posit. It might be presumptive, meaning some folks think they operate just fine without forgiveness and grace (the standard religious summary of the Micah verse). Yet, “just fine” isn’t a mission worth pursuing with only death at its apex.
Without grasping that God removes guilt by pardoning our sins and then selflessly offers us a kinship, we are denied a physical and spiritual familial connection that allows us to participate in the goodness and riches of everything that is his.
We’ll get none of what we truly want and need. This leads to existential fright. What we want, instead, is authentic joy from intimacy with the ultimate love.
Without divine forgiveness, God’s gift of intimacy will be hidden in a bubble of our own making — or more sadly, someone’s bubble that we admire — faced with two possibilities. We are either ruined, sure that our sins are unforgivable and must be erased from anyone’s view to eke out what’s left of our lives, or we deny that every soreness and calamity caused by us were sins at all.
The second path is disingenuous. It does allow self-satisfaction at a terrific pace before our ultimate oblivion. So, there’s that to look forward to.
The highly intelligent, or steely honest person (which is almost the same thing) can’t head down the hedonous path without drugs, I think. These folks are quick to see that God is actively addressing them. God’s triple offer of evidence (boldness of the Trinity) is immediately convincing to smarty pants. The bane of intelligence, the bad news, is that all else, every single temptation out there, looks pretty darn good too.
God’s expectations of constant opportunities — dramatic witnessing and heartfelt testimonies — can be pretty exhausting for intelligent people. Extreme intelligence, I’m afraid, recognizes all the other options offer pleasures as better than fealty to God. Unrelenting brain synapses hurry up the call of the deadly sins. They appear as opportunities rather than cliffs for super-thinkers. Sin can be very inviting.
The vast array of druggery available to the accelerated mind has exploded in recent centuries. Mind-altering influences now include deep dives into entertainment, sports, violence, and hubris overdoses along with the chemical kind. Wacked-out authors, painters, politicians, and celebrities are all the proof I need to cement that point.
I, thankfully, believe that average intelligence succumbs to evil at a less speedy pace. We “normals” don’t lose hope so easily and can grasp God’s forgiveness with gracious relief. We’re not immune, though. Just not challenged the same as the braniacs. Pray for them.
About us average folks. We need each other to remind us that God can get in the way of our plans when we veer off course. When our plans don’t work out, we often make the mistake that God failed us. God’s not that great after all, we conclude. So, make friends with people who are not afraid to step into our lives and stop that kind of stupid.
It’s not so much that we start to believe there is no God, but that our definition of God lacks breadth. A limited God can’t cure our illness, habits, proclivities, dastardly behavior, and certainly won’t be able to reset our history. We’re trapped, so say our meager minds, by bad fortune, insufferable miseries, and toxic relationships.
The fear of toxicity distances us from the kindest of folks as much as it does those who might see us for who we are. Worse, the ugliness we see in relatives and friends furthers the revolting, wretching reminder of the darkness and filthiness of sin that makes us run away.
Our burden of guilt removed by the pardoning of our sins is, then, the necessary beginning for shifting into intimacy with God. Only our stubbornness and fear of God keep us from bending our knee, pleading for help, and turning away from our often mundane and surely limited path.
If God can remove our guilt and pardon us, then we must choose him. Even our dismissal of him, our conspiracies against him, and our spitting anger over what we know he has allowed us to experience can all be forgiven.
As Micah said, no one else can do this. “Who is there like you?” There is no one else.
The proof that this pardoning is real rests in God’s desire to share the future with us. The wonders of Heaven will be ours, and the restoration of the universe is all going back to God. The remnant of his inheritance isn’t some code. It’s plain speech. What God gave to us in the beginning of creation, stewardship and life with the fullness of divinity — Father, Son and Holy Spirit — remains, awaits, and engulfs everything we dream about.
Come, and get it.