Modern-day Christians are fans of the Genie-in-a-lamp concept. We treat God like a Genie to be called on and/or manipulated into doing what we want. When found in tough situations, we rationalize, reason with, and beg God to handle the situation according to OUR standards with little regard for His. We know best, after all!

Sadly, American Christians are hardly the pioneers in this realm of reasoning. Ancient Israel cornered the market on the approach-God-as-a-Genie subject, a pathetic tributary to man’s fallibility.

The Philistines drew up in battle array to meet Israel. When the battle spread, Israel was defeated before the Philistines who killed about four thousand men on the battlefield. When the people came into the camp, the elders of Israel said, ‘Why has the Lord defeated us today before the Philistines? Let us take ourselves from Shiloh the ark of the covenant of the Lord, that it may come among us and deliver us from the power of our enemies.’
1 Samuel 4:2-3

If God is a genie, the Ark of the Covenant is His lamp. In the Old Testament, God graciously chose to manifest His presence among His people in the Ark of the Covenant, which resided in several locations until the Temple was built and it rested in the Holy of Holies.

Israel was given strict guidelines for approaching and transporting the Ark. No one could touch the Ark itself without being struck by God’s hand of judgment. It was carried by several men holding the poles that were attached to it. The Ark commanded great reverence and was undoubtedly the most holy relic Israel ever possessed.

Over time, idolatry crept into the minds and hearts of the Israelites. The holy lost its awe among the people; the revered became the been-there-and-done-that.

When the Israelites found themselves in a pickle (i.e. defeated by the Philistines in battle), they resorted to their secret weapon and magic lamp—the Ark of the Covenant. They’re thought process went something like, “Surely if we bring the Ark into battle with us, God will secure our victory! He wouldn’t let anything happen to the Ark!”

In essence, they tried twisting God’s hand by using His Ark as leverage. They approached God as their Genie who resided in their Ark-lamp they rallied behind. Disregarding God completely, they attempted to manipulate His power into serving their purposes.

Desiring God evaded their minds entirely. They cared not for who He is, but what He could do…for them. No surprise, the results were disastrous (the Philistines destroyed them in battle again and captured the ark). The irony? The Israeliteswere surprised their Genie-in-a-lamp escapade didn’t work!

An unfortunate and one of many embarrassments for Israel. They were so blinded by their own sin they didn’t realize their own ridiculousness.

Idolatry does that. One great definition of idolatry I love is by Scotty Smith:
“An idol is anything we trust in for deliverance in the place of Jesus and His grace.”

In all ironies, Israel’s idolatry revolved around God—using Him as a means to their end rather than Him being the end of their means—and missing Him entirely in the process.

We do this ALL THE TIME. We seek deliverance through our accomplishments and ability to manipulate God into acting on our behalf. We rub the magic lamp of Scripture or church attendance expecting God to reward us in ways we deem appropriate.

The audacity of this posture is appalling and has no place in the Gospel of Christ.

The Gospel is God’s grace. The only aspect we attribute to the Gospel is the reason we need it in the first place. Unlike Israel, we must let God’s sovereign grace penetrate every aspect of our minds and hearts to the point where we can’t help but fall prostrate in humility before Him.
​
God is not a genie; He has no magic lamp. We exist to glorify Him, and if it takes death for that goal to be realized so be it. He is our life, our song and our reason for living. Squash the Genie-in-a-lamp mentality and surrender to the holy and all-powerful God who deserves our ALL.

Greek mythology fascinates even the most ignorant of history’s pupils. The myriad of stories of the gods and their conquests intrigue and captivate people from all walks of life—artists, archeologists, authors, and historians alike.

Fortunately, modern day admirers don’t believe the fables as valid historical events (hence the term, mythology). But in our state of intrigue we often forget that the ancient world very much believed the historicity of Greek gods. Their worldviews and philosophical frameworks revolved around these gods, and they’d often hold debates to theorize about the greatness (or lack thereof) of their favorites.

One of my choice characters of Greek mythology is Atlas. Atlas exemplified strength and guts when he stormed the heavens, but was punished eternally by Zeus to bear the heavens and earth on his shoulders.

I’m convinced the ancient Greeks loved their gods because they could relate so well with them—their trials, impulsive tendencies, weaknesses and strengths. They weren’t perfect; neither are we.

Regrettably, my fascination with Atlas revolves around my familiarity with his punishment. No, I haven’t been sentenced to bear the heavens and earth on my shoulders for eternity. But I often live as if the heavens and earth are my burdens to bear.
I exert, though often subconsciously, a posture of self-righteous pity and gloom because of unending responsibilities birthed from my control-freakness. Woe is me! I have so much to do and if I don’t complete my check list, the world as we know it will fall down around me!

Of course, this posture reeks of selfishness and vain conceit. Though a wildly unpopular notion, the world keeps spinning round and round regardless of my presence. Any activities I contribute to it may benefit those around me (slightly), but ultimately, my efforts exist without meaning, much like Atlas’.

God often reminds me of my fallibility and stature to get me off my high horse. Though He loves me unconditionally, He doesn’t need me. I am not a foundational commodity necessary for the continued operations of this world. Nor does God need me to accomplish His Gospel purposes. I am but a breath in the timeline of history—here one moment and gone the next.
Depressing to think about, but it’s absolutely true. The GOOD news, however, is only half the story has been told.

Though God doesn’t need us, He chooses to love us and include us in His glorious plan of redemption. Christ died so we could die to our sinful selves and live again in the true and eternal life He bestows.

 If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come. Now all these things are from God, who reconciled us to Himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation, namely, that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and He has committed to us the word of reconciliation. Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were making an appeal through us; we beg you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.
2 Corinthians 5:17-20

When I act like a savior, God reminds me Who really is. I am nothing without Christ. I take that back: I’m forever lost in the abyss of hell without Christ, who literally took on the world to save me. Christ’s world-bearing served a purpose (unlike Atlas’ and mine)—to rescue the world from its deteriorating sin and inject His life into it for eternity.

Christ bore the sins of the world, not as an unrelenting punishment to bear, but as a single act that bears eternal ramifications for those who believe. By bearing the world’s sins on His shoulders on the cross, He reconciled us to Himself; and in turn, empowers us to be agents of that reconciliation.

Jesus bore the burden, we reap His victory. Jesus died so we could live. Jesus acted; we get to act on His behalf for the rest of our time here.

The world is not mine to bear because Jesus already bore it. I get to surrender to His victory and represent Him to this world; but that can’t happen until I squash my pride and attribute it to Him. He is THE God.
​
What part of the world are you bearing unnecessarily on your shoulders today? Will you surrender it to God who bore everything for us on the cross and live in the victory He secures for us in Christ?

​Church and ministry are my deal. At 16 God planted a seed in my heart that grew into a full-time ministry calling—for better or for worse. As for the worse, few professions acutely divulge the depravity of human nature more than ministry.  As for the best, few professions provide a front-row seat to watch God’s grace reach through the chaos and grip a life for Jesus.
 
That’s why I stick around. For all the hours of depression, disappointment, and migraines, moments sprout that reveal glimpses of His glory—making it all worth it.
 
Glimpses of His glory drive my passion for ministry and shape my personal mission statement, “To Know Him and Make Him Known.” Once you see a glimpse of His glory, you’re hooked. Totally, completely, and mesmerizingly hooked. No going, looking, or running back. We often try, but His grace proves stronger.
 
Glimpses of glory come in many shapes and sizes, but one common thread seen in every one of them is the window through which they are seen—the Word. We cannot experience a glimpse of His glory without peering through the window of His Word.
 
But wait a minute! What about through prayer? Or gazing at a marvelous scene of nature? Surely windows other than His Word exist to see a glimpse of His glory! Not really and here’s why. Glimpse experiences occur through many venues, but every one of them point to truth; and truth is His Word. Prayer is a natural human impulse (even atheists find a prayer on their lips in a crisis!), but we don’t know how to pray or Who we’re praying to without Scripture.
 
Nature in all its majesty is what we call “natural revelation.” Romans 1 states clearly that “since the creation of this world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, begin understood through what has been made, so that they [i.e. WE] are without excuse.” The glory of nature reveals aspects of God’s power and creativity, but it alone cannot drive us to the cross. Without Scripture, we may figure out that someone or something created the earth, but we don’t know who it was, how it happened, or for what purpose it was created.
 
Bottom line is we can’t get intimate with God—experience glimpses of His glory—without getting intimate with the Word. We cannot make Him known to others without first knowing Him ourselves. All of our knowledge of Him comes either directly or indirectly from the Word.
 
Get into it. Get intimate with it and let it be the window through which you view everything and everyone around you!

Belief is an intriguing concept; at least, the way we usually perceive it. Beliefs infiltrate every aspect of our lives—our worldviews, relationships, personalities, reactions, behavioral tendencies, and dreams. They grip us (though we think we’re gripping them), and we live by them more than we’d like to admit.
Example: we believe our best friend is dating a moron. That simple belief (true or not) influences our thoughts, behaviors, actions, and our relationship with our friend. It even spills over to other friends to make them agree with us!
Small or big, trivial or life-changing, beliefs dye our lives with their color and slant. We can’t escape them; they don’t let go easily. Old ones are replaced with new ones; they never go away.
Beliefs also fight for our attention. Constantly. Our perspectives undergo major jilting by the media, our jobs, families, friends, and religious persuasions. Everyone and everything vies for us to buy into what they’re selling. And yes, this includes churches.
Every weekend pulpits stuff themselves with pastors shouting a message they want their congregation to believe. Truth often finds itself embedded in the diatribes, but unfortunately, such an observation cannot be aptly assumed.
What they (pastors along with everyone else) want is the action that accompanies our belief. We’re no good to them hiding in the philosophical crevices that captivate our minds. They want action—a.k.a. belief on display.
Action, however, is only one component to belief. Belief is tripartite:
1) Intellectual comprehension of a stated notion (understanding/knowledge)
2) Personal assertion to that notion, and (faith/trust)
3) A willingness to act on that assertion.  (action)
Belief combines all three of these components. We don’t (or shouldn’t) act according to something we don’t personally assert to; nor do we intellectually comprehend something then assert to a theory that defies it. To believe is to know/understand, assert, and then act on a notion.
That’s what it means to believe in something. When that something is God’s truth; we’re on the right track.
Belief, though exercising intellect and decisions, often fails experientially. We may do right and get the approval of others, but fail to experience the truth we’re trying to desperately to believe. We can believe that God is good, for instance, all day long. We can intellectually comprehend it, personally assert to its truth, and base our actions on that assertion. But how do we actually experience what we believe? How does God’s goodness penetrate our hearts to the extent that it grips our emotions as well as our minds? Before we get to the “how to” let’s look at the “how NOT to do.”
James 2:19 states, “You believe that God is one. You do well; the demons also believe and shudder.”
Heavy, eh? The most gut-wrenchingly evil beings in existence believe in God. They know He’s just, righteous, holy, and powerful. They intellectually comprehend those facts, personally assert to their truth, and base their actions on it. (They’re actions are wrong, of course, but they’re actions nonetheless.) So what do we need that demons don’t have to experience God’s truth appropriately in our lives???
(Ode to another formula, though I’m not a formula fan...)
Belief + Surrender = Experience
Belief without surrender is like a sky diver who never leaves the plane. It remains all up in the head (plane) without reaching the heart being enticed into action. The action accommodating belief alone is robotic and methodical. Or is never reached at all because the knowledge and/or faith aren’t that strong. Or it’s the demon kind, going against it as hard and fast as possible.
Intellectual assertion paves the road of experiential belief, but it doesn’t get the driver there. Surrender is the fuel that propels us toward experiencing the Gospel, not just “getting” it.
Genuine, life-transforming Gospel experiences only occur when we surrender to the truth He’s led us to believe. Truth manifests itself experientially when paired with a surrendered heart. It won’t force itself on us, nor will it obnoxiously banter us until noticed. Rather, it gently woos and waits for us to understand/believe, then surrender to it.
Fall into His Gospel daily. Don’t just study, philosophize, argue, and run around it. Immerse yourself in its truth with belief, then fall off the cliff of surrender into its welcoming glory.

Did you know…?

• Scripture never demands that we worship on Sundays?
• The Sabbath is Saturday, not Sunday?
• Drinking is NOT banned by Scripture?
• The Bible says nothing about wearing our finest for weekly church meetings?
• Confession to a priest is not a command of God?
• Churches do NOT require steeples to be proper places of worship?
• A building itself isn’t required to worship?
• Worship can happen without bulletins and hymns?
• A set of drums can usher someone into the presence of God just as effectively as an organ?

How about….?

• Living with a boyfriend/girlfriend is NEVER God’s will? In fact, it’s blatant sin against Him?
• We’re stewards of everything and own NOTHING?
• Refusing to tithe is stealing from God?
• Not being a part of a community of believers stands in contrast to the very nature of our beings?

Traditions define the way we worship and live. Unfortunately, many Christians are blind to the vital distinction between church tradition and Gospel truth.

The apostle Peter struggled immensely with distinguishing tradition and truth. Before Christ, Jews thought they corned the God-market. They were, after all, God’s chosen people and they spared no expense letting others know of their status with Him.

What they didn’t realize, however, caused a spiritual heart disease far worse than any physical one—God cares far more about our hearts than He does our actions.

Jews figured out how to look marvelous on the outside. They strove to obey all 613 laws on the Torah, and to ensure their obedience, implemented hundreds of additional laws as safeguards! They thought of themselves as star pupils and were overconfident in their accomplishments.

Jesus in typical style turned their world upside-down. His message of truth shocked them not because they were acting blatantly wrong, but because in doing right they were wrong. In essence, they invested in their traditions to the extent of neglecting truth.

The Apostle Peter’s world flip-flopped many times in his faith journey, and one of particular note finds itself recorded in Acts 11. At this point, Jesus had died, been buried, resurrected, appeared to hundreds of people, and ascended back to His heavenly glory leaving His disciples with the commission to make disciples of all nations.

Peter and the rest of the Christian gang believed they were still Jews, Messianic Jews. They accepted their Messiah (Jesus) while the rest of their Jewish brethren had not. Because of this belief, they still worshiped as a Jew did—went to the Temple, read the same Scriptures, prayed the same way and identified themselves with the brethren.

In their minds, discipling other nations meant converting everyone to Judaism because that’s how it worked before. Prior to Christ, in order to enter a relationship with God, one would have to become a Jew—be fully immersed in everything Jew and be stripped of all else. But Jews rejected Him as a whole, so Christ shattered this requirement and opened salvation to any and all who would come.
Peter finds himself in this transition period—a Jewish Christian who’s embracing Jesus’ Gospel.

Acts 10 & 11 (paraphrased) talks about a Gentile (non-Jew) named Cornelius receiving a vision from God to travel to Joppa and send for Peter. While he was on his way, Peter had a vision as well. He saw the sky open up and something like a great sheet with four corners descending down. All kinds of “unclean” (non-kosher) animals filled the sheet and God told him to get up and eat. Peter refused because Jewish law fiercely forbade consuming unclean animals. God commanded him to eat three more times, then the sheet disappeared. While still perplexed, the Spirit told Peter to “go downstairs and accompany them without misgivings, for I have sent them Myself.” Peter obeyed and ate with the Gentiles, also a big no-no to Jews.

God slammed the tradition hammer down onto Peter’s heart that day.
“I (Peter) most certainly understand now that God is not one to show partiality, but in every nation the man who fears Him and does what is right is welcome to Him”…all the circumcised (Jewish) believers were amazed, because the gift of the Holy Spirit had been poured out on the Gentiles also. 
Admittedly, God was changing the rules a bit (He doesn’t anymore by the way; Scripture is complete). But the shift in regulation would never have been so shocking if the Jews hadn’t contaminated the rules with their tradition.

The truth: surrender to God in faith; abide by His ordained Jewish law to reflect said faith.
The tradition: conform in every way, shape, and form to Jewish law and decree—even those outside the Torah; abandon all Gentile practices and ways, and hope to remain a second-class proselyte.
Tradition contaminated the truth, causing serious ramifications in the shift. Through the guidance of the Spirit, the apostles and early church leaders began realizing how vast the tradition contamination warped their views of truth. Though a painful process, they separated truth from tradition and grew more intimate with God than they ever thought possible.

Early church fathers and modern-day Christians share an impenetrable bond—we pursue truth, His truth, and nothing but the truth. At least, we should.

Truth must be our number one priority, and frequent internal examinations should be scheduled to keep us on track. Standing back and asking the age-old question, “Why?” is a good start. Why are we doing this? Why aren’t we doing this another way?

Questions purge truth from tradition. Research paves the way. We must never settle for tradition or ignore truth simply because it upsets the status quo. Christ paid the ultimate price to usher us into the radical truth of His gospel. Tradition has its place, but when it becomes a barrier rather than an amplifier, it’s time to part ways.
​
In the tradition vs truth faceoff, truth always wins. We’re accountable to truth regardless of tradition, so make sure personal traditions align with God’s truth.

One of the most difficult questions when contemplating faith, religion and life is the problem of evil. Unless living in a bubble, we’re each very aware of the brokenness of our world and the evil that penetrates every facet of it. Events unfold that defy reason and logic—infants die, courts acquit murderers, and natural disasters claim countless lives.

Evil poses a problem for our faith because of the conclusions we draw from it about God (if, in fact, He exists). If there is a God and He is all-powerful, then why wouldn’t He rid the world of evil and wipe out all residue of pain and suffering? He must not be good or He must not be loving. Omnipotence that permits evil must translate into a God who doesn’t care—the little-kid-over-an-ant-hill-with-a-magnifying-glass theological view. We’d better appease Him or He’ll direct His wrath at us.

“But He’s a God of LOVE!” Christians refute. Then He must not be all-powerful. If He loves us, He must be incapable of ridding the world of evil and/or protecting us from it. Love without power is understandable because then God’s not at fault. He would save us if He could, but evil’s just too strong an opponent.

Hence the problem of evil. If God exists, He’s either uncaring or not powerful enough to deal with it. Or so the natural line of thinking states.

Applying natural precepts to the ways of God betrays a faulty premise that leads to unsatisfying conclusions. The premise is two-fold: 1) that we’re on par with God and able to fully comprehend His ways, and 2) that our fallible ways of thinking automatically correspond with His infallible ones. It’s utter arrogance to position ourselves as God’s equals, much less to derive conclusions from such a deceived posture. In order to understand God’s ways we have to put ourselves in His shoes and under His authority. He’s not a philosophical concept to dissect and analyze, but rather the holy, sovereign deity who demands our utmost respect and admiration. To understand truth we must do so on His terms.

So let’s begin.

We’ll start at the beginning and determine a Scripture-based approach to address the problem of evil.

Fallible = Fall-IBLE
Most of us admit familiarity with the narrative of Genesis 3 (a.k.a. the fall of man). God creates the universe and everything in it—mankind being the cherry on top. Adam and Eve lack nothing. God spoils them with perfection—perfect food, perfect water, perfect fellowship with Him, perfect romance, perfect sex (yes, sex was God’s idea!), perfect jobs, perfect bodies. Everything went according to plan and each day left them completely satisfied.

God buckled down on only one command—not to eat from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Adam and Eve, as we know, decided against that bit of advice and aspired to be as wise as God in both good and evil. They ate the fruit and got the aftertaste of total depravity. Hope it tasted good!

Familiar narrative. Pretty straightforward and uncomplicated until we dig deeper into the origin of sin. Evil existed before Adam and Eve bit into the flesh of the forbidden fruit. Say what? Yep. The tempting servant presumably possessed a bit of evil, wouldn’t you say? Evil didn’t penetrate humanity and the earth until they willingly partook of it, but it was certainly present.

Imagine it like a crystal clear aquarium. Pure, undefiled and translucent with fish swimming carelessly around coral and plants. In the middle of the aquarium sits a vial of food coloring (why? I don’t know; just go with it). If disturbed, the food coloring will eject and defile the entire aquarium—with no hope of restoration without outside interference.

Adam and Eve broke the vial and invited its contents to defile the world. The question is: did God create the vial? The analogy admittedly breaks down at this point. But God became the outside interference with a plan to restore the mess we made of ourselves and the world.

Regarding the vial, fallibility is an intrinsic attribute of humanity and the world because both are created. Creatures and creation inherently depend on a Creator for life and sustenance. Unlike our Creator who needs nothing for life, we depend greatly on components like food, water, shelter and community. Created beings are fallible—prone to falling. Fallible means we’re fall-ible (i.e. able to fall). Only the sovereign and holy God cannot fall. His creatures, on the other hand, fall because we’re not capable of sustaining ourselves.

Evil entered the universe via a decision made through fallible logic and reasoning. At some point in history past, Satan (a created being just like the rest of us) decided God could be emulated and that he was the angel for the job. This fallible thought (thinking he could be like God) originated from a fallible mind (i.e. a created being prone to error) and produced fallible consequences (the birth of sin).

The tempter quickly discovered a new kind of power and may or may not realize its gloomy destination. Ultimately, God will deal with sin. He will destroy its power over His children and provide them with a new heaven and new earth—immune to sin because of the encompassing sacrifice of the cross.

Until then, Satan desires to drag as many people he can with him into the pit of eternal damnation. His plan began with Adam and Eve in Genesis 3 and continues today.

Regardless of what some may believe, we aren’t innocent bystanders wrongly victimized by Adam and his sin. God forgo creating robots and fashioned people in His image—capable of love and making decisions.  Because of this, creating people (and angels for that matter) meant creating the potential of sin. The two cannot be separated because, again, only the infallible can remain so. Yes, Adam sinned. But even if he hadn’t, we certainly would and the world experiences the detriment of our sin daily.

His Plan, Love and Power
God permits sin to exist in the world now for the sake of redeeming it—for rescuing as many people possible to Him through the Gospel. He is both all-loving and all-powerful, but His love and power cannot be squeezed into pre-determined boxes of logic we derive from faulty reasoning.

His love displays itself grandly through His patience and vantage point. He desires all to know Him and coming to saving faith through Christ, so He waits—even if it means allowing temporary suffering. His sovereign vantage point realizes the momentary pain in this world can’t compare with the eternal agony awaiting so many in hell. So He allows evil to continue.

Many fail to realize, however, that God and Satan aren’t contending opponents. They don’t reside on two ends the universe playing an epic game of tug of war. God owns Satan, and Satan does nothing without permission from God. The prevalence of evil in this world operates within the confines of God’s sovereignty, which reflects His omnipotence. No one stands in comparison to God’s authority and power.

Look at Job. As a righteous man he endured greater pain and loss than anyone who’s ever lived. But Satan didn’t strike him with vengeance unbeknownst to God. Rather, he’s forced to ask God’s permission to inflict harm on Job. Job’s story deals a seeming blow to the attribute of God’s love (why He let the trials happen) until we remember another characteristic of His sovereignty—redemption.
Though He allows evil to continue, He redeems it to accomplish His purposes. 

This must frustrate Satan to no end. Satan strikes us hard with arrows of disease, death, loss of jobs, accidents and natural disasters for the purpose of keeping us as far away from God as possible. When he inflicts all the damage he’s measly little brain can conceive, God steps in with a slight smile and uses every aspect of the disasters to further His Gospel and proclaim His glory. Through trials we gain endurance, which results in wholeness and maturity so we lack in nothing of eternal weight (James 1:2-4). God uses evil to accomplish His purposes and transform us into the image of His Son, Jesus Christ.

Is it easy to endure hardship? Not hardly. Pain isn’t code or Christian-speak for joy; nor should it be. It hurts. Sometimes, it kills like a slow-burning fire. Going through a trial and/or experiencing evil first hand depletes every measure of resolve we possess. Survival mode kicks in and we operate on autopilot until the shock wears off and the real pain graces us with its presence.

Real life happens outside the bubble. Sometimes we fool ourselves into thinking life’s peachy keen, only to get hit with a trial so hard we can’t remember a time we ever enjoyed peace.

But if we know Jesus and surrender to His truth, He ALWAYS brings us through and ALWAYS provides us peace through the storm. And with the benefit of 20/20 hindsight, we realize how much we grew in our understanding and experience of His gospel through our pain.
​
Evil is a problem, but God isn’t its facilitator or originator. His undeserved love spurns unobligated grace for us in Jesus. His unmatched sovereignty and unfathomable creativity redeems the present evil we encounter and uses it as fuel for His gospel and glory. His patience paves the way for our redemption, and His faithfulness sees it through to the end. God’s not the problem of evil; He’s the solution.