You may well remember the hoo-ha a few years back about the movie 'The Passion of the Christ' when it debuted. We were in London at the time, and there was a lot of debate in our community about whether it was something we should see, or support, or invite friends to.
I eventually went to see it with a friend who was interested in seeing what it was all about. It was, without doubt, the most gruesome, violent and horrendous movie I have ever seen (and, please God, will ever see). It was also, without a doubt, the most emotionally disturbing film I've ever seen. I sobbed all the way through. I cut my palms from digging my nails in. I ripped the skin on the tips of my fingers from chewing them. I left feeling utterly devastated. While I am glad that I know what the visual content of the movie is, part of me wishes I'd never exposed myself to it.
On Sunday, at church, the preacher spoke about Abraham's faith being tested. He spoke about how God asked him to sacrifice his son on an altar - the son of the promise God had given him. He then talked us through the practical things that one easily glosses over when reading the story in Scripture, especially if you've read the story a gazillion times before.
Having lost Zoe, and knowing personally what losing a child means, the story had a deeper meaning for me than it had in the past. What really got me though, was the connection he highlighted between what Abraham was doing in this story and what God himself would do through Christ on the cross. It took me instantly back to the movie and my response to it.
My only comment, the whole way through the movie, was directed at God, to the effect that I didn't think I was worth the suffering he had gone through, and that I didn't understand why he had done all that for me, why he had such a high regard for someone as worthless as myself. I didn't mean to be arrogant, or put myself up as being greater than God. I was just overwhelmed by the visuals, by SEEING what God went through to deal with my sin. It was more than I could comprehend, more than I could process. Why would anyone choose to do that - for ME?
As I was listening to the sermon on Sunday, I put myself into Abraham's shoes. What would I have done if God asked me to sacrifice Nathan, or Janel? Could I be as faithful as Abraham was? Then I found myself pondering the love Abraham had for Isaac, and his love for God, and then the movie and my question to God. Once again I started sobbing. I still don't feel worthy. I still can't comprehend that the God of the ENTIRE universe would love me enough to allow his one and only son to go through that sort of torture and hell, that he would willingly give up his child (his CHILD) - and all for me, to make it possible for me to be his child.
Think about it - would I be willing to allow that sort of thing happen to Janel, or Nathan, in order to win the love of a child who doesn't know me yet and to make it possible for us to have a relationship?
In the past, I've had a really close relationship with God. I've heard him speak to me - not in an audible voice, but in my mind. I've heard words in my head that definitely were NOT my own thoughts. I used to hear him regularly. Then I went through a very deep valley, and I could no longer hear him. On Sunday, I heard him again. I could feel his presence, right inside my body, like a ball of heat. It was almost over before I realised what had happened. It was like it used to be, in the old days - me and God, talking together like old friends. It was shocking because it's been so long since I last heard God like that.
I know that for non-Christians, I sound like I've just been on some massive trip, like I need my head read. I hear you. There are no words to really describe it. Like any good addict, the only thing I can tell you is that you need to experience it for yourself. Being touched by God... it's the most incredible 'drug' there is. But bear with me - whether you believe that all of that was just in my over-active imagination, or not, try not to dismiss what I heard.
So what did God say to me? That I AM worth all that. I don't have to understand it. I don't have to comprehend it. All I have to do is accept it, and let it change my life.
I don't understand it. I don't understand how God could love me that much. I'm a liar, a thief, a murderer, an idolater, an adulterer, a Sabbath-breaker. I have taken God's name in vain and failed to honour my parents. I regularly covet my neighbour's stuff. I have broken all 10 of the commandments. I have been faithless to him and betrayed him.#
Yet...
He continues to love me. He continues to be faithful to me. He continues to see me restored to himself.
I don't understand love like that. But I'm beginning to accept that God really does love me like that. And if he loves me THAT much, then I must be worth something, right?
And as I was talking to God about all this, and pondering the great love God has for me, it struck me again (I've known this for years) that Satan's greatest achievement is to make Christians think the way I've been thinking. Why? Because a Christian who doesn't really accept how loved he or she is by God is an ineffective Christian, given to self-doubt, given to doubting God, given to giving up - which is where I've been for a long time now... years.
I know this isn't rocket science. I know I used to know this stuff, I used to believe it. Somewhere along the line, I lost my way. But God is bringing me back, bit by bit. One of the most important things I need to accept is not just the head knowledge that God loves me, but the HEART knowledge - the acceptance of the immense love that God has for me - a love so vast that he would allow his ONLY son to be tortured in the most gruesome way, murdered by slow and agonizing suffocation, abandoned and betrayed by his best friends, and then isolated from God himself. He did all that because he loves me and he wanted to make it possible for ME* to be his child.
I still don't understand it, but I'm accepting at a heart level that this is true, and that I am of infinite worth. Baby steps. Baby steps.
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#I'm not just making this stuff up because it sounds good. I really have broken ALL of the commandments. And no, I don't want to tell you about how, or when, or what, or why - mostly because I'm ashamed of what I've done and I worry about what you will think of me if you knew the full truth, and partly because I don't want to shame my family in public. They've been through enough in private.
*Of course, the corollary is that EVERYONE is of the same worth, because Jesus didn't just die for me, but for every single person who has ever or will ever live. But I'll deal with that another day.
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