On Dogs, Noses, and the Spirit

One of my favorite games to play with my beagle, Coco, is multiple versions of hide-and-go-seek.  Sometimes I will hide myself in the house; other times I will hide a toy of hers in a room, and other times I will simply sit on the floor and hide her toy under my legs or hands.  What I find interesting is that no matter how many times we play this game, she tries to use her vision or hearing in the search; rarely does she use her sense of smell.  I can hide her toy in the same spot repeatedly, but if she didn't see me hide it there, she does not think to look there.  The whole time she has this magnificent sense of smell that is unused and untapped, one that would find what she is looking for every time, in short order.

 

As I thought about this while playing with her this evening, I came to realize that this is often how I approach the Spirit's ministry in my life.  I would rather do things in my own strength - thank you very much -- I'll resist temptation, try to act more Christ-like, or reduce a particular bad habit in my own strength.  Nevermind the fact that the Spirit of Christ lives in me and is there, ready and able to strengthen me.  And in truth, without Him, my own frail efforts will fail, just like my dog's attempt at using what she sees is frequently a failure.

 

Why does she, and why do I, continue using such inferior methods?  Because she forgets that she has this amazing nose on the end of her snout (and I forget the Spirit lives in me).  Because she has is not practiced in using her nose, relying instead of her other senses (just as I am unpracticed in the reliance on the Spirit).  Because the use of her nose requires more than sight or hearing (and the reliance on the Spirit requires a different approach of me).  Because she thinks she knows where I hid it when in fact appearances can be deceiving (just as they can in my own life and yet I think I can do it somehow). 

 

The few times when she has actually engaged her nose it has been no contest.  Not a hope, not an attempt, there is no place to hide, because then, she will find it.  Alas, those times are rare.  With her and with me.

 

The analogy does break down in one area, and that is: her nose is part of her, it is something she in her nature is capable of.  Without the Spirit, well, I am simply a dog without a nose.

 

 

Why does God appear nasty?

I am taking another class at Dallas Theological Seminary, this one under Dr. Bingham, and am having my mind stretched and expanded in some interesting and challenging ways.  The class this week is on the History of Doctrine, and a discussion today ensued on why the church ignores much of the Old Testament.  A big part of the reason is because the church is uncomfortable with how God is portrayed in the Old Testament.  He seems judgmental, angry, jealous, vindictive, loves war and killing, and appears downright nasty.  How do I harmonize the Old Testament’s (and even some of the New) view of God with the picture that Christ gives me? 

I posed the question to Dr. Bingham on how we respond to those such as Dawkins, who in his book, The God Delusion, called the God of the Old Testament many of those things mentioned above (and much more).  Bingham’s response was at first surprising and then absolutely refreshing to me:

Justice, when executed by a Perfect Judge, is beautiful.

How in the world can I find those descriptions beautiful?  One of Bingham’s favorites is Isaiah 63:3, which describes God as walking on and squashing, squeezing the blood out of, those who are wicked, staining his white garment with the blood and gore of those He has crushed.  It hit me like a ton of bricks, or maybe like a man being squeezed just a bit :).

The “nastiness” of God simply shows me how serious He views sin.  Read that again.  That anger, that seeming ugliness, the death and blood and sacrifice required by God, is because of my sin.  All of this is a vivid image, a stark reality of just how serious sin is to a holy God.  It is ugly because sin is ugly.  It is bloody because sin is bloody.  It is horrible because sin is horrible.  The consequences of sin are ugly, bloody, and horrific.  The cross is ugly, it is bloody, it is horrific because of sin.  “Without the shedding of blood, there is no forgiveness of sin.” (Heb. 9:22)

The God of the Old Testament is just as beautiful as the God of the New and He is one and the same.  “How beautiful are the feet of them who bring good news”, the news that Jesus Christ, “who knew no sin, became sin”, took the trampling and anger and fury of God in my place, that “I might become his righteousness in Christ”, so that I might be in the palm of his hand and not under the heel of his foot (Is. 52:7, 2 Co. 5:21).