The Presence of God in Action

I begin today with a quote from one of Christendom's favorites:

C.S. Lewis writes, "Our faith is not a matter of our hearing what Christ said long ago and trying to carry it out. Rather the real Son of God is at your side. He is beginning, so to speak, to 'inject' His kind of life and thought, His 'Zoe' [life], into you; beginning to turn the tin soldier into a live man. The part of you that does not like it is the part that is still tin."

It should be quite clear that what Dallas Willard is talking about, what I am talking about, is nothing new. What is seen in a fresh light often has the shimmer of newness about it, yet even if appearances have changed, the presence and existence have not. When Lewis writes on this subject, he does so from the view of a tin man coming to life. When Willard writes, we see a plane flipping upside down. When I write, I see a hidden room, a diverging path, and a beautiful letdown. Okay, the last one was Switchfoot. The point being, these ideas are not original.

The subtitle is "Rediscovering Our Hidden Life in God". Neither Willard nor I claim to have any new thoughts on old ideas. We simply have a lot of old ideas that should be thought of anew. God's plan for humanity has not changed in two-thousand years. I would even argue it has not changed since the dawn of creation. Take, for instance, the woman with the alabaster jar.

The woman saw Jesus and recognized who he was and who dwelt in him. That vision was her faith. She knew he was forgiving and accepting before he ever said, "Your sins are forgiven." She knew because she had seen a goodness in him that could only be God, and it broke her heart with gratitude and love. Such a response, along with many others familiar from the Gospels, illustrates how Jesus' hearers understood the invitation to base their own lives on the rule of God "at hand."

I've never understood this story. It seems simple enough. A woman walks into a conversation between Jesus and religious expert. One looks at her and judges her. One looks at her and loves her. I never see any recording of Jesus saying or doing anything other than what he had been doing all along. He doesn't offer her consoling words or say a prayer for her. What she initiates causes him to say to everyone that her sins are forgiven. But I think she already knew that.


Jesus tells the story of a man forgiving two debts owed him by two debtors. One was excessively large and one rather small. "Who will love more because of it?" he asks. "The one forgiven much," they answer. This woman is that forgiven one. She knew she was forgiven, she could tell she was forgiven, and in tearful and grateful response she bathes Jesus' feet and dries them with her hair. Is the rule of God that apparent? Is it so life-changing that its effects can affect those around it simply by its presence? Why did this woman approach Jesus? How did she know? Why was she so moved to love?

We must not overlook the connection between faith and love. The woman saw Jesus and recognized who he was and who dwelt in him. That vision was her faith... she had seen a goodness in him that could only be God, and it broke her heart with gratitude and love. 

I want people to look at me and see God. I want to be living God's kingdom to such an extent that I can confidently say, as Jesus did, "Those who have seen me have seen the Father." (John 14:9) Is this even possible? I didn't used to think so. I am slowly coming to the realization that through Christ all things are possible, including, and especially, following after Christ. I want to be like him in as many ways as I can, yet I still feel I don't even know him. Therefore, I will start small. He exerted God's rule on this earth. He invited me to do the same. Who am I to turn down such an extraordinary invitation.