I
had noticed that there were many
misconceptions about the nature
of God, and this talk was designed
to name and clarify them. Several
themes had emerged in my preparation.
The
first was the Winking Grandfather.
This seemed to me to be a favorite
among people I
knew. Everyone wanted to believe
in God, but no one felt particularly
accountable to Him.
He was like that favorite grandparent
who loved you and let you get
away with most
anything.
The
second was the Prowling Policeman.
Our church parking lot was a favorite
place for deputies to catch speeding
cars. Hiding behind the church
sign, they nabbed people as they
sped
by. I was uncomfortable with the
association, but I never had the
courage to ask them to leave.
To me, too many people already
saw God as the Prowling Policeman,
just waiting to punish you for
breaking rules. They didn’t need
that false image reinforced by
the local deputy.
Another
misconception was the Perfectionist
Parent. A bit more subtle, perhaps,
but more insidious, too. Who wants
a God who is always demanding,
never satisfied, always raising
the bar? I don’t–and that’s not
the kind of God portrayed in Scripture.
But many who grow up in repressively
religious homes are never able
to relax in God’s presence.
Finally,
I imagined that many people saw
God as a Cosmic Force. To them,
God is merely a life‑force,
an impersonal power, much like
the Force of Star Wars fame. You
can’t know him personally; you
can only tap into the cosmic power
of the universe.
None
of these perspectives square with
the picture of God revealed in
Scripture, though there are elements
of truth in all of them.
I
was just about to put the finishing
touches on this talk when I thought,
“What is my own misconception
about God?” I wasn’t sure it was
any of those I had described.
I
stepped away from my work to reflect
on the issue.
“What’s
my misconception about you, Lord?”
I asked. In response, I remembered
something I’d forgotten for many
years. As a young child growing
up in an extremely religious home,
I had a recurring fear that God
had something to hide.
I
thought, “What if everything the
Bible says is true about Jesus?
But once we are in heaven, we
find out that God is not really
nice after all?
What
if He’s really mean and just pretending
to be nice?”
It
was a childish fear. Once I’d
gotten older, I’d forgotten all
about it until precisely that
moment. But like a flash of lightning
on a moonless night, I saw clearly
the landscape of my own issue
with God: I loved Him, but I didn’t
know if I could trust Him.
Now
I knew why it was that I had the
subtle fear that God would let
me down, that He wouldn’t come
through for me.
I
wasn’t convinced that God could
be trusted–He held all the power.
After all, He was God. But the
game was rigged, like the carnival
games I so detested.
I
immediately returned to my desk
and bowed my head. “Lord,” I said,
“You gave Your life for me. I
know You are trustworthy. Teach
me how to move that belief from
the top of my head to the bottom
of my heart. Teach me how to trust
You.”
And
that’s the truth.
