When we think of the self-revelation of God in the Old Testament, we might think of a number of scriptures such as Exodus 3:14 where God said to Moses “I am who I am” or  Exodus 34:6-7 where God described himself as “The Lord, the Lord, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin. Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished; he punishes the children and their children for the sin of the parents to the third and fourth generation.”

While it is probably unlikely that we would think of the Ten Commandments (Exodus 20:1-17)  as an example of such divine self-revelation, there is more about God in that section of text than might meet the eye.  This point was recently made by Andrew Wilson in a Christianity Today article (September 20, 2021). In the course of that article Wilson points out that the commandments  do not actually begin with a commandment, but with the identity and nature Of God: 

“[a] feature of the Ten Commandments that … frequently goes unnoticed, is the fact that there are ten theological affirmations—ten attributes of God, if you like—woven through them. If the text tells us who we should be, it also tells us who God is. Revelation sits alongside regulation.”

Or, to put it another way, beneath the rules there is revelation. The Ten Commandments actually introduce God as much as they outline his law.   Wilson is correct in stressing that the commandments begin not with the rules but with the revelation “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery…” (Exodus 20:2).  It is only after this self-revelatory opening that we are told “You shall have no other gods before me” (vs. 3). 

Likewise, the second commandment (from a Protestant perspective) not to make or worship images of God (vs. 4)  is followed by a rationale that is longer than the commandment itself: “for I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the parents to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing love to a thousand generations of those who love me and keep my commandments” (vss. 5-6). There is clearly as much, if not more stress on the nature of God than the command itself in this case.

In the same way, the third and fourth commandments reveal God’s justice and love, and the fifth commandment stresses that he is a God of giving.  Although some might argue the next five commandments do not mention God directly, this is to be expected when we remember that the first half of the ten commandments center on our relationship with God and the second half in our relations with others. In any case, we agree with Wilson’s assessment that the final five commandments also show a great deal about God, even if indirectly.

Our understanding of the Ten Commandments as providing self-revelation of God himself, as well as his laws, is strengthened by other facts not mentioned by Wilson, but which substantiate the point he makes.  Perhaps most importantly, it is known that the format in which the Ten Commandments was given was that of contracts or treaties in the ancient biblical world.  Such relationships were sealed by covenants that were formalized in a particular way. The dominant party – usually the great king making the treaty – first identified himself, then often enumerated what he had done to show his good intentions toward the other king or society. This was followed by a list of “stipulations” specifying what was expected on the part of those with whom the covenant was being made. There might also be a list of blessings or curses on the other party for keeping the covenant or failing to keep it. The Ten Commandments clearly fit into this kind of treaty covenant:

Identification: “I am the Lord your God” (Exodus 20:2).
Benefits: “Who has brought you out of the land of Egypt …” (Exodus 20:2).
Stipulations: “You shall have no other god but me …” (Exodus 20:3).
Blessings and Curses: (see Leviticus 26; Deuteronomy 28; etc.).
 
When we understand this background to the commands given at Sinai, we realize why, in addition to being Ten Commandments, they were also intended as “Ten Commitments” – a unique set of guidelines to a relationship with the God whose nature was revealed in those commandments (as explained in our free Cornerstone Bible Course unit on the Ten Commandments published May 5, 2021, and available here). 

The Greek philosopher Epicurus (342-270 B.C.) is said to have first formalized the argument that “proves” there cannot be a God who is both all-powerful and supremely good.  According to this argument, if there were a God who is supremely good, he would not want suffering to occur.  If he were all-powerful, he would use his power to eradicate suffering.
​
Since the world in which we live clearly has much unmitigated suffering, Epicurus contended that God must either not care –  in which case he cannot be good; or else he is unable to stop the suffering –  in which case he cannot be all powerful.   In either case, Epicurus rationalized, such a being would not be God as we envision him, and such a being could not logically exist.

But there is a fatal flaw with this argument that Epicurus and many who have followed him did not take into account.  Although God has revealed himself as being all-powerful (Jeremiah 32:17, etc.), he has also revealed that he chooses to limit his power as he sees fit.  Put another way, God limits the application of his supreme power by the exercise of his other attributes.  The Bible unequivocally tells us that, despite his ultimate power, there are things God cannot do.  

For example, the apostle James tells us that “God cannot be tempted with evil” (James 1:13). Because evil is contrary to God’s nature, he will not allow himself to be tempted to do that which is not right.  The apostle Paul also tells us that “God cannot deny himself” (2 Timothy 2:13). This does not mean God cannot deny his own existence, but that he cannot deny what he states –  in other words, he will always fulfill his promises (see, for example, Titus 1:2). Finally, the author of the book of Hebrews confirms that “it is impossible for God to lie” (Hebrews 6:18).  Because truth is just as much an attribute of God’s nature as his goodness and power, he will not allow himself to lie. 

We cannot isolate one of God’s attributes from the others which are equally true.  The Bible itself gives us frequent confirmation of this fact.  When Job 37:23 states “The Almighty is beyond our reach and exalted in power; in his justice and great righteousness, he does not oppress” we have direct confirmation that God is all-powerful, but he limits the use of that power for the purposes of good. God balances his power with his goodness.

Epicurus’ argument also fails to take into account the fact that suffering and goodness are not always antithetical.  Because God is good, he grants us the freedom to make choices – and to suffer the inevitable consequences of those choices (1 Peter 2:20). He also allows us to live in a world where suffering can sometimes occur accidentally (Luke 13:4–5). This suffering does not contradict the goodness of God if there is a purpose for it and good will eventually come from it –  as we see in the fact that God allowed his own Son to suffer for a great purpose (Hebrews 5:8). While we may not know what good will come from a specific cause of suffering that we endure, God does promise us that there is a purpose for all of the suffering in the training ground we call life (Romans 5:3-4; 8:28; etc.).  Eventually we will see that our temporary suffering was a small price to pay for eternal happiness (Romans 8:10; 2 Corinthians 4:17; Revelation 21:4; etc.).   

Epicurus and those who have followed his argument did not take these things into account –  even as possibilities to be considered. This is why, although he did not condemn philosophy per se, the apostle Paul does warn against the kind of argumentation that is “hollow and deceptive philosophy” (Colossians 2:8). Philosophy and physical science are alike in that they can only reach accurate conclusions regarding those things for which they have all the necessary propositions or data.  That is why Epicurus was wrong, and why he did not prove that an all-powerful God cannot also be perfectly good.
 
* Also see our article “Does the Existence of Evil Prove There Is No God?”  

​“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…. No one has ever seen God, but the one and only Son, who is himself God and is in closest relationship with the Father, has made him known” (John 1:1, 18).

​The opening paragraphs of the first chapter of the Gospel of John are one of the most majestic sections of the Bible. John’s eloquent prose seems unique in its presentation of Jesus as the “Word” of God.  Yet despite its apparent uniqueness, John’s introductory chapter – like almost every other part of the New Testament –  has its roots in the Old Testament and can only be fully appreciated when we see what those roots are. 

It is often said that the Greek word logos –  literally “word” –  with which John begins his description of the preexistent Christ was used in ancient philosophy to signify the “reason” or underlying principle that created the universe. The Hellenistic Jewish thinker Philo of Alexandria who lived around the time of Christ used logos in this manner.  However, the majority of John’s audience would not have known this philosophical usage, and they would have more likely understood the apostle’s description of Jesus as the “Word” in terms of their own Scriptures. 

Jewish people would naturally have associated what John wrote with the opening statement of Genesis, that “In the beginning God made ...” (Genesis 1:1); but while Genesis stresses God’s action, John chooses to first stress the Son of God’s person and identity.  Jewish readers (or hearers) would, however, also have recognized wider associations regarding John’s use of “Word.”  They knew that “by the word of the Lord” (meaning by his command) “the heavens were made …” (Psalm 33:6), and they also knew that the Book of Proverbs personified that word or “Wisdom” as being active in the Creation of the world, and it is likely that most of John’s readers understood the personified “Word” in a similar manner.  Some early Jewish commentators even pointed out that the Creation story of Genesis 1 used the expression “God said” ten times, seeing an analogy in this with the Ten Commandments which were called the aseret hadevarim –  the “ten words” or “ten utterances.” God’s “word” could also mean, of course, all of God’s revelation to man. So John’s readers would have understood that he was characterizing Jesus as the personification and embodiment of God’s wisdom, law, and even all of God’s word – the entirety of the Scriptures. 

But there are more specific connections between what John says in the introduction to his Gospel and the Hebrew Scriptures.  The most significant are the parallels we find between John’s description of Jesus and the portrayal of God in the Book of Exodus.  These connections are frequent and clear.  

For example, just as Exodus tells us that God dwelt among his people in the tabernacle (Exodus 40:34), so John begins his description of Jesus by telling us that the Word dwelt (literally “tabernacled”) with humankind (John 1:14).  Just as Exodus tells us that Moses beheld God’s glory (Exodus 33:18), so John makes a point of recording that the disciples and others beheld “…his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father…” (John 1:14).  Just as Exodus tells us that God’s glory was full of graciousness (grace) and truth (Exodus 34:6 Holman, NKJV, etc.), so John goes on to say that Jesus was full of grace and truth (John 1:14).
 
Because the New Testament makes it clear that the preexistent Christ was the One who was with Israel in the wilderness (1 Corinthians 10:4), these connections may seem straightforward to us, but to John’s audience they were revelatory.  The single verse John 1:14 alone would have suggested numerous parallels that devout Jews of that day would have recognized, but found amazing. 

First century readers versed in the Hebrew Scriptures would have picked up other similarities between John’s record and that of Exodus.  Most of the associations John makes within his first chapter are those expanding on the divine nature of Jesus.   The Word is shown to be not just the promised “prophet like Moses,” but also very God himself. John does this by emphasizing not only Christ’s preexistence, but also his superior position to Moses. While Exodus tells us that the law was given through Moses (Exodus 34:29), John confirms that although “…the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ” (John 1:17).  Jesus was not simply a prophet relaying the words of God, he was the One who was the Word and who himself exhibited the very nature of God.

This was John’s central point in comparing Jesus with the revelations of the Book of Exodus. Although Exodus stressed that no one could see all of God’s glory, and John confirmed the fact that “No one has ever seen God…” (John 1:18), John also stressed that in Jesus that glory was revealed: “…but the one and only Son, who is himself God and is in closest relationship with the Father, has made him known” (John 1:18).   Seeing this, we see John’s Gospel in a different light.  The apostle who perhaps knew Jesus best did not just preface his Gospel with a grandiose but unconnected introduction. What John truly did, and what should inform our reading of his whole Gospel, was to show his readers from the outset that Jesus was everything that the “Word” of God was revealed to be –  the personification of the wisdom, the law, and the very nature of God himself.

Many internet bible sites regularly publish lists of their most frequently searched-for scriptures – the well-known Bible verses such as John 3:16 that people look up and read more often than others.  That can be interesting information and can show us regional differences, for example, in what people are searching for in the Bible.

But in this article we are looking at something entirely different – the passages of scripture most quoted by the biblical writers themselves.  If we believe in the inspiration of the biblical writings, then we could also say these are the passages that were most often quoted under inspiration of the Spirit of God – or, put another way, the verses to which God most frequently referred!

So what are those verses?  There is no question as to their identity as two verses stand out above all others.  Among the writers of the Old Testament, the most commonly quoted verse is found in the book of Exodus: “maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin …” (Exodus 34:7A).

These memorable words were spoken to Moses by God regarding a central aspect of his own identity. They appear again at Numbers 14:18-19 where Moses reminds God of them, and they are quoted repeatedly in the writings of the later biblical writers.

The passage is quoted, for example, three times in the book of Psalms alone.   In Psalms 86:15 David quotes it in a prayer for God’s mercy, and in Psalms 103:8 and 145:8 he quotes it again in praising God’s deeds.  The prophets Jonah (4:2), Joel (2:13), Micah (7:18) and Nehemiah (9:17, 31) all quote it,and it is alluded to in other verses such as 2 Chronicles 30:9 when King Hezekiah urged the people of Judah to return to God.

When we turn to the New Testament we also find a verse that is quoted more often and by more New Testament writers than any other. That verse is found in the book of Psalms: “The Lord says to my lord: ‘Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet’” (Psalm 110:1).

This verse is quoted or alluded to some 23 times by seven of the nine authors of the New Testament, and the much-quoted words “the Lord says to my lord” were often used by the Christian writers as an expression of the divine nature of Jesus Christ alongside God. In Matthew 22:44 we see that Jesus himself referred the Pharisees to this verse to make the point that the Messiah is more than David’s son – he is also David’s Lord.    

Psalm 110:1 is also an expression of God’s ongoing purpose in history. The words "Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet" were used frequently from the beginnings of Christianity. The book of Acts shows us that Peter included them in his sermon when the New Testament Church was founded on the Day of Pentecost (Acts 2:32-36) specifically to show that “God has made him both Lord and Messiah, this Jesus whom you crucified” (vs.36). Peter and Paul repeatedly use the verse or allude to it in their writings.  Paul, for example, refers to it in stressing the basis of the kingdom of God (1 Corinthians 15:22-25).

We know historically that the earliest Christian confession was simply “Jesus is Lord!” and this confession was primarily a declaration that Jesus had been enthroned at God’s right hand as Lord and King – the very substance of Psalm 110:1.

So these two verses – Exodus 34:7 and Psalm 110:1 summarize the nature of God and the nature of his Son.  The two tie together in many ways, of course. Both foreshadow many other verses.  So it is hardly surprising that we find them as often as we do and that they are truly “favorite” biblical verses.

Of course, we have no way of knowing which verses in the Bible are really “God’s favorites,” but it is certain that the two verses we have looked at here were regarded as being of tremendous importance in setting out the message of the Scriptures – not just by us, its readers, but by the biblical writers themselves.

The existence of evil in our world is impossible to deny. Sadly, the pages of history and the stories of our daily news provide endless examples of evil at the individual, national and even international levels. As a result, atheists often claim that the clear existence of such widespread and ongoing evil proves there cannot be an all-powerful and loving God. 

According to this thinking, the existence of evil and the existence of God are mutually exclusive. If God exists, and he is good, the argument goes, why would he allow such terrible evil and its resultant suffering to continue?

As Christians we may occasionally wrestle with this conundrum ourselves, and we are very likely to hear it spoken by friends or others who are not believers.  The natural reaction in such situations is for us to try, where appropriate, to explain the temporary necessity of evil in the plan of God –  that God must allow evil in order to grant us free moral agency and the opportunity to develop the character he seeks. 

This explanation for the existence of evil is one that makes sense to most Christians and it is one which the Bible itself addresses.  In his epistle to the Romans, the apostle Paul summarizes the situation in saying that “… the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God (Romans 8:20-21).

In these verses we could easily substitute the word “evil” for “decay,” and the sense is clearly the same – God allows the present situation in order to fulfill his purposes in our lives.  And, as  Paul specifically stresses, in the long run allowing evil to exist will be worth the end results: “I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us” (Romans 8:18).

However, this argument is a theological one that may make little sense to many whose minds have not been opened to understand the plan of God (Luke 24:45, Ephesians 1:18). But there is another and much simpler explanation that we should consider giving to others who question God’s existence in the face of the evil that is evident in the world.  To say that the undeniable existence of evil indicates that God does not exist, we must also admit that by the same argumentation, the undeniable existence of good in the world must indicate that he does exist.

​Although it does not explain the existence of evil, this answer is as sure as it is simple in showing that evil does not prove the non-existence of God.  If an individual can see this, it is likely that they may be receptive to begin to understand the underlying reasons the Bible gives for the present existence of evil in the plan of a good and loving God.

​ 


“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16).
 



For many Christians John 3:16 is their best known and most loved verse in the Bible. It has been called the “golden verse” of Scripture, one of the Bible’s most succinct summaries of the gospel, and the ultimate single-verse summary of God’s plan for humanity.   But many do not realize just how much meaning is packed into this one short verse –  its very familiarity often obscures its richness –  and it can be profitable to look at each part of the verse more closely:

“For…” The word “For” with which this verse begins points back to John’s previous statement that: “Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him” (John 3:14-15). This refers, of course, to the bronze image of a serpent that God instructed Moses to place on a high pole for the healing of the Israelites who acknowledged their sin in the wilderness (Numbers 21:4-9). In that story, everyone who “looked at” the serpent was granted life, and in John’s Gospel we see Christ made it clear that in the same way whoever “believes” on him is granted eternal life (John 3:16).  Looking and believing are equal in these accounts of the same story –  faith is “looking” without the eyes, or beyond what the physical eyes see, to a reality that saves (see our article “Seeing Is Believing: The Serpent on the Stake” here).  That is the background to John 3:16 – that our belief is not just the acceptance of an abstract idea about God and what he has done, but an active looking to the Person who is salvation.

“God so loved…” We should also realize that when this verse tells us that God “so” loved the world, it does not mean God loved the world “so much.”  Instead, the Greek in which the verse was written clearly means God loved the world “in this way.” In other words, “God loved the world in this way – he gave his only son …” It’s an important difference.  The Old Testament often stresses God’s love (Isaiah 63:9; Hosea 11:1-4, etc.), but John 3:16 shows the way in which that love was expressed.

“the world…” The Greek word translated “world” is kosmos which can mean not just the physical world or universe, but also –  as in this case –  all the inhabitants of the world. Rather than just telling us that God loved people in general, “the world” emphasizes the all-inclusive and universal love that God displayed – love of everyone without exception.

“that he gave…” Giving is, of course, characteristic of the nature of God –  it is one of the things that most clearly defines him –  and the gift of his son is his greatest gift, eclipsing all others (Romans 8:32).  The gift was foreshadowed in the prophets, as Isaiah wrote: “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given…” (Isaiah 9:6).  

“his one and only son...” In this phrase John stresses that God’s love extended to giving his “one and only" son – a sacrifice that reminds us of the story of Abraham’s willingness to give up Isaac (Hebrews 11:17).  Here the expression marks the unique nature of the gift that God was willing to give (1 John 4:9).

“that whoever believes on him…” The word “whoever” signifies “everyone” and stresses again the universal nature of God’s gift and its availability to anyone who will accept it. John reiterates this truth a little later in the same chapter: “Whoever believes in the Son has eternal life, but whoever rejects the Son will not see life …” (John 3:36).  Unseen in our English translations is the fact that the word “believes” is a “present participle” in the Greek of the New Testament – a verbal form that stresses continuity of action. The required belief is not just associated with a one-time emotional occurrence – it is ongoing, and it only those who continue to believe who receive the gift (Matthew 24:13).

 “shall not perish but have eternal life.” Here we see as much stress on God’s desire that we do not perish (2 Peter 3:9) as on his desire to grant us life. The specific words “eternal life” are typical of the teaching of the apostle John, who uses them more than twice as many times as all the other Gospel writers combined. John here uses the expression in the present tense to stress that the life God offers us is not just life that we “shall” have at some future time, but spiritual life that begins now, in the present, and continues eternally from now.

The total message of this great verse is echoed by John in his first epistle: “This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him” (1 John 4:9). But it is only in John 3:16, the verse we all know but do not always appreciate to the full, that the great message is so clearly and thoroughly explained.

​
​The Prophet Elijah was certainly one of the greatest figures of the Old Testament. When Christ appeared in the Transfiguration before his key disciples, the vision they experienced involved Jesus speaking with Moses and Elijah – doubtless representing the very personifications of the Law and the Prophets of Old Testament revelation (Matthew 7:1-13).

Yet Elijah was just as subject to human problems and the need to learn as you and I are (James 5:17). The Old Testament records many stories about the prophet, and one is particularly fascinating regarding lessons that Elijah perhaps needed to learn and from which we certainly can profit. The book of 1 Kings tells us that after Elijah delivered an unwelcome message to Ahab, king of Israel:
 
Then the word of the Lord came to Elijah: “Leave here, turn eastward and hide in the Kerith Ravine, east of the Jordan. You will drink from the brook, and I have directed the ravens to supply you with food there.” So he did what the Lord had told him. He went to the Kerith Ravine, east of the Jordan, and stayed there. The ravens brought him bread and meat in the morning and bread and meat in the evening, and he drank from the brook.  Some time later the brook dried up because there had been no rain in the land. Then the word of the Lord came to him: “Go at once to Zarephath in the region of Sidon and stay there. I have directed a widow there to supply you with food.” So he went to Zarephath (1 Kings 17:2-10).

It's a small story, but one packed with lessons and reminders that apply in our own lives. Here are just five that are immediately clear:

1) The first thing we learn from this story is that sometimes God protects us, and sometimes he encourages us to flee. God protected Elijah on numerous occasions, but on this occasion he specifically informed the prophet to flee and “hide” (vs. 3) until God was ready to have him speak truth to power again.  This is an important principle found throughout the Bible (see our article, “Should Christians Flee?”), and Elijah was either taught the lesson or given it as one of many examples recorded in Scripture for our benefit.

2) Sometimes God lets us look for what we need, and sometimes he brings it to us.  God did not instruct Elijah to try to forage for food or to miraculously replace the same food, as he did on another occasion (1 Kings 17:13-16). Rather, God sent what Elijah needed directly to him by means of birds – ravens. Sometimes we have to learn to let God provide, also. Interestingly, Jesus used ravens as a means of teaching this very lesson (Luke 12:24).

3) God provides, but often not more than we need.  The story tells us that twice a day the ravens brought enough food for a half day.  It is clear that God sent a number of ravens, and we know that these large birds can carry quite large objects and weights with ease – but God only had them deliver food for Elijah’s immediate need.  This is similar to the way in which God provided manna to the Israelites on a daily basis, and it is clear that he was teaching them lessons in that situation, also (Exodus 16:4-27).

4) Sometimes God lets things happen to move us on. The story ends by telling us that the small stream that provided water for Elijah dried up.  This was God’s way of preparing Elijah for the news that it was time to move on, and it’s a reminder we can all remember.  Sometimes God ends something good to give us something better – in Elijah’s case, it was a better opportunity to serve others who needed help and that may sometimes be our situation, too.

5)  Perhaps the most important lesson or reminder we can take from this story is one that applies to all the points we have considered above.    In each aspect of this story, God acted in an unexpected way.  In every case we are reminded that God’s way of doing things is often not what we would have expected.  It may not be what we would have done or even chosen. Humanly, we could question every aspect of this small story.  Why didn’t God just protect Elijah – why did he have to flee?  Why did God send Elijah to an area with no food within many miles and then force him to just sit and wait to be fed?  Why did God not provide at least a whole day's food at one time?  Why did God have the stream dry up – why not just tell Elijah it was time to go back? 

Whatever the answers may be to some of the questions that are raised by this story, we see that things worked out –  God looked after Elijah and Elijah was able to fulfil God’s purposes. Our own lives are really no different.  The greatest lesson we can learn from this small story is that, like Elijah, we can always accept on faith what God commands or does (1 Kings 17:5, 10).  It is a story that reminds us even if we do not always know why God does what he does in our lives, we can be sure he has a purpose and that he always knows what he is doing. 

 
Reading the Bible, it’s easy to think of God only speaking to people in miraculous and stunning ways – from burning bushes, by a voice from the heavens and in great theophanies where the earth shakes. But it’s harder to see those events in perspective viewed from our own lives today.

Although the Scriptures do contain many examples of God speaking audibly to humans, we have to remember that those examples occurred over a relatively vast period of time – thousands of years.  They were not “everyday” occurrences even in biblical times. We do not find God routinely talking audibly to his servants all the time. The instances that are recorded are almost all at pivotal times when God desired to confirm that he was moving his plan forward in some new or different manner.  Often, God simply spoke to individuals in such a way that they somehow “heard,” but others did not (1 Samuel 3:1-11).

When we understand these things, we can see the error in thinking that God spoke audibly in biblical times but now only speaks to us in other ways (an understanding that many skeptics rightly claim is neither indicative of God’s existence or the historical veracity of the Bible).  Rather, God usually speaks to us in ways that he has always used.

Primarily, God speaks to us through his written word (2 Timothy 3:16–17). This is something we should think about. There is no indication in the Bible that God audibly dictated the words to be recorded in the biblical writings, so we should not be surprised that he speaks to our minds through them just as he spoke to the minds of those who wrote under his inspiration.

God also often speaks to our minds directly through urgings that we may call an “inner voice” or our “conscience” (Acts 2:37). Once again, no audible voice is involved, but if you have ever felt the prodding of conscience, you know how real the experience can be.  God can work through the Holy Spirit in our minds in just this way – we are convicted of what we do wrong and urged to do what we know is right by this “quiet inner voice.”

Sometimes, God may speak to us through others –  especially those who have his Spirit (Acts 21:4-14, etc.). God may use a friend, a pastor or teacher or anyone else to convey a message to us in this way.  Naturally, we must use wisdom in assessing input from others, and we should always be sure that the advice or suggestions they give are in harmony with what is revealed in God’s word; but we should never presume that God would not speak to us in this way.

Finally, God can also “speak” to us through events that he allows to happen or that he may even bring about. The Old Testament shows that at a national level the captivities of Israel and Judah were just such events through which God spoke in biblical times.  In our own lives events that occur may sometimes be corrective (Hebrews 12:5–11) or perhaps encouraging, but it does become clear that God is teaching us – and thus “speaking” to us – in this way.

While none of these ways in which God speaks to us may seem as earth shaking as many instances in the biblical stories appear, even there we find the same quiet methods of communication.  The story of God speaking to Elijah is a wonderful example of this:

The Lord said, “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.” Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper… ”  (1 Kings 19:11-13).

In the ancient world people believed the gods were speaking in lightning (fire), windstorms, and earthquakes –  the very three things 1 Kings mentions –  but Elijah found God was not speaking in such a dramatic way. It was in a quiet, barely perceptible manner that God’s communication began.  Just as in biblical times, today God usually speaks to us not with great signs, but with the stillness of a quiet whisper.  We just need to be listening for the whisper.

​"For he seems to do nothing of himself which he can possibly delegate to his creatures.  He commands us to do slowly and blunderingly what he could do perfectly and in the twinkling of an eye.  He allows us to neglect what he would have us do, or to fail.  Perhaps we do not fully realize the problem, so to call it, of enabling finite free will to coexist with Omnipotence.  It seems to involve at every moment almost a sort of divine abdication.  We are not mere recipients or spectators.  We are either privileged to share in the game or compelled to collaborate in the work, … Is this amazing process simply Creation going on before our eyes?  This is how (no light matter) God makes something – indeed, makes gods – out of nothing."
– C. S. Lewis, The Efficacy of Prayer.

​This paragraph from one of C.S. Lewis’ lesser known works gives us a glimpse into the great apologist’s thoughts on how God truly is desirous to share all that he is and has – including the responsibilities which he grants to us.  Truly something to ponder. 

​Something to think about:  The central thought of 1 Corinthians 1:9 – "...God is faithful..." is an inspiring one, but it is often quoted out of its context, and we need to remember what that is.  In writing to the Corinthian Church Paul had to address a number of problems and to correct the Corinthians for certain things, yet his introduction to the letter is an encouraging one:

"He will ... keep you firm to the end, so that you will be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is faithful, who has called you into fellowship with his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord" (1 Corinthians 1:8-9).

​Paul knew the correction he soon had to deliver in this letter, yet he stressed his confidence in the ultimate outcome of the situation based not on the Corinthians'  righteousness or doctrinal understanding, but on the faithfulness of God. What he tells the Corinthian believers, and us, is that despite our problems God remains faithful to his purpose in us as long as  are willing to continue to listen, learn and change as necessary.

Perhaps one of the most amazing things about this part of Paul's message to the problem- prone Corinthians is that it is almost identical to the message he had for the Thessalonians – a church he praises highly:

"... May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do it" (1 Thessalonians 5:23-4).

The encouraging thing about these messages is that no matter where we may be on the "curve" of spiritual growth, we need not worry that we will not succeed as long as we continue to persevere.  Paul's message to the Corinthians and Thessalonians is identical in this regard: Our faith need never waver, because God's faithfulness never does.

​
Most of us have heard that the Aramaic word “Abba” used by Jesus in addressing the Father in his prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane is an intimate diminutive somewhat equivalent to “Dad” or “Daddy” in English.

But is this really the meaning of “abba”?  The answer is not just a matter of biblical linguistic trivia, but something that can affect our attitude toward our heavenly Father.  You can read our article on this question here.

Eagles are impressive creatures with regal looks, formidable talons, and massively powerful wings. It’s not surprising that Bible references to eagles are popular verses frequently tweeted and used as the subject of social media posts with pictures of the great birds soaring in seemingly effortless  freedom.

Sparrows not so much.  The most remarkable thing about sparrows is probably how unimpressive they are.  Although you may have seen thirty of them today, you may not have noticed a single one.  Sparrows are  particularly unphotogenic birds with their  dull brown coloring and unexceptional characteristics. If you want a good twitter image, we’d recommend you look at the eagle again.

Bible references to eagles are suitably impressive.  Some two dozen verses speak of eagles, and the raptors are used as symbols of soaring, swooping and strength (Isaiah 40:31, etc.) – and by extension, of the strong nations used by God in punishing Israel (Deuteronomy 28:49, etc.).   

Sparrows are only mentioned in the Bible a few times, and when they are mentioned in Scripture it is usually as symbols of insignificance. Sparrows were the smallest birds that were used in offerings (Leviticus 14:4) and in the time of Christ two sparrows were sold for an assarius (Greek assarion), which was the lowest valued coin regularly issued in the Roman Empire.  The small birds were considered so insignificant that if you bought four sparrows, the seller would often throw in one more for free (Luke 12:4-7)!  That is why Jesus was able to use the humble sparrow to teach a great lesson regarding God’s view of those of no significance:

“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care” (Matthew 10:29).

If we turn back to the Old Testament, one of the names of God in the Hebrew Scriptures is el roi (pronounced el raw-EE) which means the God who sees.  The name was used by Hagar, the servant girl who fled from the anger of Abraham’s wife Sarah.  The story in Genesis 16 tells us that Hagar found herself alone and as good as lost in the desert, and that she sank down exhausted in her lonely helplessness.  The young servant’s situation was, in fact, similar to one that the psalmist compared to a sparrow:  “I lie awake, and am like a sparrow alone on the housetop” (Psalm 102:7).

But Hagar was not as alone as she thought – she was seen and helped by the “Angel of the Lord.” Many scriptures indicate that this “Angel” was in fact a theophany, an appearance of the pre-incarnate Christ (John 8:58, etc.), and it was then that Hagar pronounced the name of God as el roi – the God who sees.

The words of Jesus recorded in the New Testament make the same point courtesy of the humble sparrow.  No matter how insignificant we may think we are compared to the universe in which we live, and no matter how alone we may feel, the God who sees the sparrow sees us and is not unmoved by our situation.
​
It’s a simple thought yet a profound one. The God of the whole universe sees the insignificant just as much as he sees the significant: the great, the powerful, the impressive – the eagles of the world.  The God who sees the eagle soar also sees the sparrow fall – and while his inspired word confirms God’s awareness of the eagle’s strength, it speaks even more clearly of his care for the sparrow.   

“From His right hand came a fiery law for them.  Yes, He loves the people”
(Deuteronomy 33:2b-3a NKJV).
 
It is surprising how many people visualize the God of the Old Testament as an essentially stern God dispensing laws and their strict penalties. This God is seen by many as a God of law and commandments. By contrast, some think the God of the New Testament and his son, Jesus, are typified by love and not law.  It is believed that somehow God changed in his approach to humans.

But what the Bible clearly shows, when we look at it closely, is that the God of the Old Testament is no different from the God of the New.  Theologically, of course, it seems clear that in many instances the pre-incarnate Jesus was actually the one called God in the Hebrew Scriptures (John 1:1-10, 1 Corinthians 10:4), but the point is that the character of God does not change (Malachi 3:6, Hebrews 6:17, Hebrews 13:8).  God has always been a God of law and love.

We can see this dual aspect of the character of God in many examples throughout the Old Testament.  Take the words of Moses, for example, in the Book of Deuteronomy (which means “second law”) as it recounts the re-giving of the law of God to ancient Israel.  Deuteronomy focuses on the law of God as much as any book of the Hebrew Scriptures, yet we find frequent expressions of God’s love as well as his commands and laws: “Know therefore that the LORD your God is God; he is the faithful God, keeping his covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love him and keep his commandments” (Deuteronomy 7:9).  Repeatedly, God’s love is stressed just as much as his law, as we see also in the quotation from Deuteronomy 33 above.  

And that is not just an Old Testament perspective.  When we look closely at the life and teachings of Jesus, love and law are never separated. Not surprisingly, after the Book of Psalms, the Book of Deuteronomy was the book most frequently quoted by Jesus. When asked which was the greatest law, Christ replied that the law is that we love God and our neighbor (Matthew 22:35-39).  When he showed love by not condemning the woman taken in adultery, Jesus nevertheless still told her “Go, and sin no more” (John 8:11).

God’s law did not somehow disappear after the death of Christ because he paid the penalty for our breaking the law – any more than a speeding law disappears if someone pays our speeding fine. And even though we are not saved by our keeping of the law (Galatians 2:16), Paul stresses that the law is a guide to us (Galatians 3:23) and that “The law is holy, and the commandment holy, and righteous, and good” (Romans 7:12).  Paul continues to show us why the law is good:

“…for whoever loves others has fulfilled the law. The commandments, “You shall not commit adultery,” “You shall not murder,” “You shall not steal,” “You shall not covet,” and whatever other command there may be, are summed up in this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Love does no harm to a neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law” (Romans 13:8-10).

So the principle of God’s use of law as well as love is still alive and functioning throughout the New Testament, as the writer of the Book of Hebrews reminds us: “… the Lord disciplines the one he loves” (Hebrews 12:6). We would not think a human parent did not love his or her children because the parent gave them rules or disciplined them, and we must realize that God works with us in exactly the same way.

As we grow in understanding of God, we come to see that law and love are actually not opposites, but complementary aspects of his character. His commands are given out of love to protect our relationship with him and with others. God’s love does not somehow negate the purpose of his laws, and the purpose of his laws does not somehow cancel out his love. 

​God is indeed a God of law and love.

A Christian watching the flaming reds and burning golds of a sunset may give thanks for the beauty of the kaleidoscopic colors, while an atheist or agnostic seeing the same colors may perceive them only as a function of the filtering of shorter light frequencies by the atmosphere. The scientific explanation of how the sunset occurs is, of course, correct, but that doesn’t mean that we weren’t made to appreciate the beauty of those fiery colors.

Take, for example, the richly colored tropical fish you see swimming around in aquariums, or, if you are fortunate, that you may have seen in some tropical ocean.  Most people think those fish just evolved that way because their bright colors gave them some survival advantage over dull grey fish. But there are still plenty of dull grey fish in every ocean and they seem to be doing OK.  That’s not to say that the colors in nature don’t have any use, but often they are not really as necessary as you might think.

Flowers could have survived just fine if they were all one or two bright colors to attract insects where necessary, but there are thousands of colors in the floral world.  Birds and tropical fish could have survived with a much more limited palette of colors, too, but again, we see thousands of colors in these creatures – colors that are far more wide-ranging than is needed for members of species to recognize each other, or for any other practical reason. Nature has a superabundance of colors – and humans, especially, are designed to enjoy them.  The human eye can recognize nearly ten million distinct colors, and although we don’t need to be able to see so many colors in order to survive, the ability adds immeasurably to our enjoyment of the world in which we live.

But it could have been a black and white world. There is no reason to believe a black and white world would not work any more than a black and white TV could not work, but if you have a color TV, would you want to go back to black and white? We all know the answer to that question. The truth is, we love color and color adds tremendously to the enjoyment of watching a film or television program. The creation is no different. Whether we realize it or not, color is a gift we were given and one that helps us see something about the mind of God.
Usually we think of the creation as showing God’s intelligence in his design and provision for the many life forms of this world, but we can also see other traits – including his love – in the colors of the creation.

If your parents were inestimably rich and gave you a TV as a gift, would you think they loved you more if they gave you a black and white TV or a color TV, if they could afford either?  Color is obviously an important part of the gift. That is why we see examples of multiple colors being associated with gifts of love in the Bible. Think for example of Joseph’s coat of many colors and notice why it was given him: “Now Israel loved Joseph more than any other of his sons … And he made him a robe of many colors” (Genesis 37:3). Joseph’s father would still have loved him if he had given him a dull grey coat, but he loved him greatly and, as a result, gave him that coat of many colors. And it wasn’t just Joseph – we see other beloved individuals with many-colored coats in the Bible (2 Samuel 13:18, Psalm 45:14, etc.). 
​
In the same way,  color is not just a part of Gods’ creation, it is a gift that he has given to us. He could have made everything black and white, but in love he made us capable of seeing millions of colors and built a superabundance of color into the creation for us to enjoy.  Next time you see a sunset, an iridescent tropical fish or a brightly colored bird or flower, think about it. Do you just see colors – or do you see God’s love expressed in the gift of color?

​“So we fix our eyes not on what is seen …”                     (2 Corinthians 4:18).

When you look up on a starlit night, what do you see? For those of us who live in the glare of modern city lights, it may not be much. 

But some three thousand years ago, under the clear desert skies of ancient Israel, King David thought that he could clearly see God’s invisible hand in the starlit heavens: “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 reveal knowledge” (Psalm 19:1-2).

Like King David, most who will read this will probably  also  see God’s hand in the creation – that the vastness of the  heavens and everything in them could come from nothing, without cause and design, seems unimaginable to us.  Yet although some people feel they see the clearest evidence of God in the creation and in events in their own lives and in the lives of others, other people see nothing meaningful there at all.  It certainly isn’t a matter of wishful thinking or lack of education or intelligence on the part of those who feel they see an unseen God, as some cynics would like to believe.  The fact that there are equally intelligent and emotionally mature people on both sides of the “Is there a God?” debate demolishes that fiction.

So why is it, then, that some people see God where others see nothing?  The apostle Paul gives at least part of the answer. After affirming that:  “… 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 ...” (Romans 1:20), Paul goes on to show that many people do not see God because they do not want to see him (vss. 21-23).  Not wanting to acknowledge God’s authority in our lives usually means we will not see it. The Old Testament prophet Isaiah put the situation this way:

“If favor is shown to the wicked, he does not learn righteousness; in the land of uprightness he deals corruptly and does not see the majesty of the LORD.  O LORD, your hand is lifted up, but they do not see it” (Isaiah 26:10-11 ESV).

Isaiah’s point is that whether or not people are faced with blessings (“favor”) or punishments (“the lifted hand”) – the “carrot or the stick” – in their lives, those who do not want to see God’s presence will not see it.  But there is a lesson in this for those of us who do acknowledge God’s existence and presence in our lives.  We do have to look and continue looking, with spiritual sight, to keep that which is not physically visible clearly in our minds.  That is what the apostle Paul meant in saying “So we fix our eyes not on what is seen …” (2 Corinthians 4:18).

But the word Paul uses for “look” or “fix our eyes” connotes much more than just “looking.”  The Greek word skopeó that he used essentially signifies that on which we focus intently – as with a point of aim or a target we intend to hit (it is, of course, the root from which we get words such as telescope, microscope and rifle scope).  It is that kind of ongoing focused “looking” and “seeing” that helps us to recognize God’s presence in our lives and to live accordingly.  As the Book of Hebrews tells us of Moses:  “He endured, as seeing him who is invisible” (Hebrews 11:27 ESV). 

A thread that connects all these biblical writers is that they all show it is only as we look that we see God.  It is only as we fix our spiritual sight on the unseen that we succeed in our Christian walk.  Illogical as they might sound to the world in which we live, Paul's words remind us that we must constantly  “fix our eyes not on what is seen.” 

Does God's perfect knowledge of all outcomes of a situation mean that what He wills cannot be changed, that it is useless to ask God to change His mind? 



“I the Lord do not change…” (Malachi 3:6)

Correctly understood, Malachi 3:6  is one of the most encouraging verses in the Bible. God’s love, forgiveness,  patience,  mercy,  and other qualities are just not going to change.  We can find great relief in that fact.  God will work with us tomorrow just as He did yesterday and does today.

Incorrectly understood,  Malachi 3:6 can limit us.  We can discourage ourselves by thinking that God will never change His mind once he has determined something – so our prayers otherwise are futile and useless.  This is especially true in areas where it looks as though God has allowed something to happen to us or to others that does not change for the better despite our prayers.  In situations like that, is it possible to change God’s mind?  And if God is all knowing and has perfect wisdom, why should we consider even trying to ask God to change a decision He has made?

Many  situations recorded in the Bible show that God is willing to change His mind.  We will look at only one example in the Old Testament and one in the New Testament.  The first example is well known: in the Genesis account of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah (Genesis 19), we see that although God did destroy those cities and had clearly decided to do so (Genesis 18:17-32), He nevertheless relented in at least sparing Lot and his family as a result of Abraham’s persistent intercession (see our article on Abraham’s request here).

The second example is less frequently remembered, but the New Testament account of the Syrophoencian woman who pleaded with Christ to heal her daughter (Matthew 15:21-28, Mark 7:24-30) is a parallel.  Jesus made it clear to the woman that he was not sent to the Gentiles and that he would not answer her pleas. Yet when the woman persisted, he relented and essentially made an exception to the rule he himself had explained regarding his not helping the Gentiles (see our article on the Syrophoenician woman’s faith here). 

These examples point up something we should always remember. The fact that God is all-knowing  and all-wise doesn’t mean a decision He makes is the only wise decision possible in a given circumstance.  The truth is, by virtue of the fact that God is all-knowing and all-powerful,  He can look at a situation and adjust things to make another outcome work just as well if He knows it will still be for the best.

I remember reading, many years ago, a short science-fiction story ("The Game of Blood and Dust" by Roger Zelazny) in which two unimaginably powerful alien beings played out a game of  chess-like strategy on Earth by adjusting history through injecting the slightest little changes – the death of a great potential leader here, the  support of a scientific genius  somewhere else – until the whole of history was affected to the desired outcome. The story illustrated in an imaginative way how even the  smallest  changes  could alter the way things work out.

God obviously has the power to do exactly that kind of changing, and asking God to change His mind by considering other outcomes is not disrespectful as long as we are willing to accept His answer - it just means we have a healthy understanding of how all-knowing and all-powerful God is.  That is perhaps why we read that:  “… Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up” (Luke 18:1).

For many atheists and agnostics, the idea of a God who encourages or demands praise and worship seems selfishly motivated and self-centered.  It is presumed that the divine command for worship is the equivalent of the actions of humans whose egos cannot get enough reinforcement.

But the Bible does clearly teach the fact that God encourages and even commands worship, and His servants do offer praise and worship to Him continually – so why is this?  Our article "Why Do We Need To Worship?" examines this question and shows the clear biblical reasons why we need to worship.

Occasionally, the fact that the population of Earth is now well over 7 billion sinks into my mind. It usually takes some kind of Infographic to help me even begin to comprehend a billion, let alone 7 billion, but at those times I get close it’s easy to begin to see how small and insignificant we really are.   It’s even hard to find an analogy to put the understanding in perspective, but seeing ourselves as grains of sand on an ocean beach, or in a great desert, brings the point home pretty well.  

It’s an analogy that God Himself used in promising that the descendants of Abraham would be almost innumerable:  “I will surely bless you and make your descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as the sand on the seashore” (Genesis 22:7).  Those living in the biblical age had no idea how vast the universe really is, of course, but they could see the vast number of stars visible to their own eyes and could certainly visualize the vastness of numbers involved in comparing humans to grains of sand.  It’s a simple analogy, but the more we  grasp it, perhaps the  harder it is not to feel  totally insignificant.  Being one of untold numbers of teeming humans is one thing, but sand particles all look alike, right, and the grains of sand analogy really can make one feel like a faceless speck if we think about it overly much.

That’s why I love the picture that accompanies this blog post.  It came to me on twitter courtesy of @WOWfactsoflife (via blogger Ann Bowyer who retweeted it), and it immediately caught my attention and imagination.  It shows grains of sand from a sea shore magnified under a microscope 250x, and it makes the point (for me totally unrealized) that grains of sand are in fact different. The grains may be made of shell, stone, coral, or other substances and they are not only often vastly different, but they are also all unique.  We know that the countless stars are different, and every elementary-schooler learns that each snowflake is different, but seeing that every grain of sand is different somehow made the point to me of the variety in creation more than anything else might have done. 

These grains of sand expand the analogy to make the point that God’s promise to Abraham was not of countless, faceless masses of descendants, but of billions and billions who are all individuals in the eyes of God.  And that’s just on the outside!  Although the grain of sand was the smallest particle known in the biblical world, we know through modern physics that each grain of sand contains, of course, an atomic and sub-atomic universe with its own characteristics. The line “To see a world in a grain of sand” from the poem  “Auguries of Innocence” by William Blake comes to mind; and we can understand through the microscope, and through physics theory, that every grain of sand is different on the outside and on the inside. 

It’s an analogy that helps us realize we may be grains of sand, but to the God who made the Universe in all its macro and micro cosmic levels,  we are indeed unique.  So being analogous to a grain of sand is not as dull as you might have thought, and helps dispel the idea of our destiny as being part of a faceless multitude in standard issue, same size white robes. The idea of spending  eternity getting to know not only God, but also all those unique grains of sand who become part of the family of God  is an amazing concept - a thing of infinite as well as eternal variety.

What is our perception of God?  Can the God who constantly beholds the sin, sorrow and problems of humanity possibly be happy? Can the God who compassionately shares not only our problems, but also those of untold millions be joyful?

Many of us unconsciously share to some extent the common perception of God that portrays  Him as a brooding figure focusing on whether we are obeying His laws or not.  It’s hardly a joyful picture and is reflected in countless pictures of Jesus as the suffering servant weighed down with the cares and sins of humanity.  As I thought about this fact recently, three scriptures came to mind which show God in a very different light, and which I plan to focus on a little more, from now on.

First, in 1 Timothy 1:11 and 6:15-6, Paul speaks of  “the blessed God;” and the word “blessed” is actually from the Greek word makariou/makarios  meaning “happy” – “the happy God” – which really says it plainly, although the meaning is blurred in many translations.

The next scripture that comes to mind is Luke 15:7:  “ … I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.”  Joy in heaven doesn’t mean with the angels but not with God.  Saying joy in Heaven is like saying dinner at the White House. The president will be participating.  When we say joy in heaven we have to remember it is God’s house, it’s His party, and we need to see this as a reflection of the personality of God.  Joy in heaven is synonymous with the joy and happiness of God.

The final scripture that comes to mind is Matthew 25:14-30 – the parable of the talents.  This is an interesting parable at many levels, but it’s only recently that I noticed a detail I had not thought about before.  The master goes away, leaving talents in the care of his servants.  At his eventual return the servant given five talents shows how he has doubled them through his work.   The master then says to that servant: “Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!” 

Notice the master does not say “You have done well, so come and take on some of my heavy responsibility of checking on people,” but rather, “Come and share your master’s happiness!”  All translations have it that way. There is nothing that lets us get away from this simple meaning. 

We could probably add dozens of scriptures from the Psalms and elsewhere showing that those who walk in God’s ways are happy and that must, of course, apply to God also.   Despite His compassion and care for those who hurt now, God sees the big picture. He knows what He has planned and that ultimately all the hurt and sadness of physical existence will be wiped away (Isaiah 25:8, Revelation 21:4) and that it will have been worth the pain (Romans 8:18). So God is a joyful God who looks beyond the present pain – just as He tells us to do. 

So when we keep this in mind, it seems to me that in our own lives and in our portrayal of God to others we should actively work to combat the common perception of God that leaves out the obvious happiness and joy that is part of His nature. The lesson for me is that if God can be joyful because He is able to look to the end result – with God’s help, so can I.

You may have wondered why the theme of sunbeams on this site. Someone also asked if there was a specific name for the kind of radiating sunrays seen in the photos on our pages. To explain the name first: radiating sunbeams  are called "crepuscular rays" - a singularly unattractive name for a beautiful phenomenon.

Crepuscular rays appear to radiate from the point in the sky where the sun is located, though the sun itself may be hidden behind clouds or other objects. The "rays" are actually columns of sunlit air separated by darker shadowed regions. They can also appear in forests, inside buildings and even underwater.

So why the name "crepuscular" which sounds like a strange life form out of an old Sci-Fi comic book? "Crepuscular" is derived from the Latin word "crepusculum," meaning twilight, as these rays are most likely to occur in the so-called crepuscular hours of early morning or late evening when the contrast between light and dark is most noticeable.  

As for why we have the sunbeams as a motif on the site, they are surely a most encouraging visual analog of faith - the knowledge that the light is always there behind the apparent darkness and that we will see it if we are patient.  That is something King David learned repeatedly through a long life with many hardships.  As David said in his last words, if God's people are patient and wait for that "light," they will see it when:  "He dawns on them like the morning light, like the sun shining forth ..." (2 Samuel 23:4).  It's something to be reminded of the next time you see those radiating rays of sunlight.