God, An Introduction¶

A dying son¶

It was a calm evening,the sun was setting as the sheep were entering their shed. Mary was doing the final touches on her dinner. It had been a while since Joseph died. Her children were all grown by now. Safe for the occasional sound of the bleating sheep and the children playing from a distance, the silence was loud. She could never get herself to get rid of his carpentry workshop, too many memories there. He loved working with his hands, and always made the finest tables. She remembered taking him food there as he taught Jes and the other kids the ins and outs of wood work.

She sat at the dinner table, right across where he would have sat. All the chairs were empty, her sons were gone too, busy living their lives. She said the grace on her own, but she couldn't bring herself to eat her dinner. There was a sinking feeling in her belly. She couldn't understand it. It was strangely familiar, she had felt it just before Joseph died. The agitation in her spirit, the restlessness in her heart coupled with the premonition of the end of a season.

Jes' was on the mountain, He knew the time had come. He wished he could have just one more day, if only to see his mother one last time. He went on His knees to pray, but no words came out of His mouth. The surety of death was on his mind. He touched his face, alas, blood! "Wait, I must not be seeing clearly. Where did that come from? It must be sweat", He thought. Under the light of the moon He checked again, it was blood. He was in such grief He knew He needed someone on his side, but all his friends were asleep. Just when He needed them most, they couldn't comfort Him. Suddenly the soldiers came, grabbing Him by His cloak, they took Him to the town square. It was all happening too fast.

There was no protecting Him from the crowd that longed for his execution. His crimes are worse than treason they said. He calls himself a king they remarked. He surely deserved death by their words. Mary heard the commotion from her house. She looked out through her tiny living room window. It was her son. They had stripped Him of his cloak and were flogging Him to death by the pillars of the town square. Suddenly it hit her. The sinking feeling, they were going to kill her beloved son. There was no way back for Him now. She followed wailing as they whipped Him to the rocky, barren hills. He saw her following from a distance, but He couldn't look her in the eye. He shed a tear as He turned away in shame and grief.

They hang her son that day on a cross, and all the while He never said a word. As He hung his head and breathed His last mortal breath, she felt the dagger go through her heart, the pangs of heartbreak in her mouth, the pain of a dying son. She loved Him dearly.

If you haven't figured it out by now, this story is about Mary and her son Jesus, and my imagination of a simplified version of the story. You can find the story in Mark 15 here. He died for the sake of you and me.

A World Of Hurting People¶

There's something about pain and tragedy that we cannot put on paper, or explain if we wanted to. It pushes us to seek a power beyond ourselves, an existential guide if you would call it. The answer to our questions. An encounter with the divine, an encounter with God. I wish I could explain Him, He refuses to be put into words. He's like a person, you can describe them, their qualities, show me their photos, but I can never really know what they're like until I meet them.

The Person¶

Unlike philosophies that describe God as a force of the universe, I'd like to present a person, a friend. He's kind of expressive, He writes letters, He speaks. He has a 66 book volume about Him and by Him. He feels, He gets angry, He gets jealous, and most of all He Loves, in fact He likes to be called Love. He understands the human condition, that 66 volume love letter talks about how He became a man, lived and walked among men. He came under the full wrath of angry and confused men, He experienced the warm hug of friendship and the bitter kiss of betrayal. He was stripped naked by angry men and spat on by shouting women. He died in the hands of the very men He cared most about.

Meet the God who understands the plight of man kind, one who hates sin but loves the sinner at the same time.

In this series, I'd like to attempt to present God to you, and maybe He will appeal to you. Stick with me.