Everything Old is New Again

Everything Old is New Again

The second law of thermodynamics and its definition of entropy stands as scientific proof (if anecdotal wouldn’t do) that we are destined to die. As the (regrettably late) comedian Norm Macdonald pointed out, his father died, his grandfather died, his great-grandfather died, his great-great grandfather died (probably…) which means he came from a long line of death. “Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” (James 4:14) With the correct mindset this knowledge should inspire us to action. “Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” (Psalms 90:12) The fact that our days here on Earth are numbered and few gives them a meaning and weight far beyond our ability to grant. With that perspective it is rightful to understand them for the gift that they are. But as with the best of gifts a great deal depends on what you do with it.

Our study of Ecclesiastes touched on this notion a great deal. Much attention is paid to the verdict of ‘meaningless’ that is found throughout that book, but more important is the implication it provides. Repeatedly Solomon forewarned us that every field of human endeavor conceivable meets the same conclusion, death and oblivion. The most powerful rulers in eras past are forgotten even to the sands of time. How much more so then, the common people of those days. And yet, just as repeatedly (although not nearly as repeated) Solomon encouraged, directed, and reminded us to find joy in our toil under the sun, to be grateful to and fearful of God. This suggests there is still a solid rationale even beyond the ‘meaninglessness’. Without being too repetitive, this offers us hope. But quite a bit of this analysis runs counter to our natural programming. 

Charles De Gaulle summed much of this up with the following, “The graveyards are full of indispensable men.” (Which one can imagine has even more gravitas in the original French.) There is a tenacious belief that we are necessary, when what we truly are is beloved. But this is the trick, we are not beloved because of what we have done or will do. As our nascent study of Ephesians has shown us, “For He chose us in Him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in His sight. In love He predestined us for adoption into sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with His pleasure and will.” (Ephesians 1:4-5) Even Paul cannot provide for us an explanation here as to why, chalking it up to God’s own ‘pleasure’ and ‘will’. (And if that was good enough for Paul, that should be good enough for us too.) We believe ourselves to be important because of who we are, but the ultimate joke is we are condemned because of who we are. We are only saved because of God’s love, and the pure sacrifice of Jesus Christ. And the thing to understand about that salvation, it isn’t life saving it is life restoring. 

We regularly call heroes those involved in the ‘life saving’ business. First-responders, men and women in uniform, doctors, those who take on dangerous, threatening, or pain-staking tasks that defend other people. But even if you return the beat to a heart that has stopped, jumped in the way of a life threatening bullet, or cure the terminal disease you are really only prolonging the inevitable. Entropy is an unforgiving mistress. This means that what God does fully eclipses the notion of heroism into something else completely. Something entirely beyond us. Which even loquacious Paul struggled to convey. What we are given (given!) from God is nothing short of miraculous. It is resurrection.

This seems a timely topic in light of approaching Easter. (A day that honestly should be celebrated by Christians 365 days a year- or 366 in the case of the year of our Lord 2024.) And much is made of Christ’s resurrection. (And should be, it is impossible to overstate its importance.) But what needn’t be lost is that we are offered the same exact outcome. All of observable nature, from microscope to telescope, tells us that living things are doomed to death. But God, characteristically, distinguishes Himself (and ideally His followers) from the machinations of this world. But the machinations of this world have a powerful gravity all their own. It is most readily seen in the “loops” of human behavior. Our daily routines that we unquestionably and thoughtlessly follow. Through conformity, comfort, convenience, coercion, or sheer lack of creativity we go through the same motions day after day after day. (This isn’t by itself a bad thing, our study of Holy Habits months ago proves that our daily routines can be vehicles that strengthen our faith!) But the notion of entropy and this endlessly looping behavior creates a disheartening image, that of a downward spiral. 

And without salvation, without redemption, without this resurrection, that is exactly our life’s shape. “For ‘all people are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of the Lord endures forever.’ And this is the word that was preached to you.” (1 Peter 1:24-25) We wither like the grass, yet eternity does exist, and it is the residence of the One who has always been there since the beginning. The miracle is that given our repellently sinful nature He has included space for us in eternity and even provided a pathway to it. Over the bleeding body of His sacrificial Son. This is a magnanimity impossible to deserve. This is a gift that can never be repaid, a debt that will eternally remain. In our brief and transient little lives there is nothing we are capable of that renders God’s munificence sensible. Except for love. 

Love is the only rationale for the Easter story. Love is the only reason Scripture gives us. It is entirely in keeping with God’s pleasure and will. And through this lens we begin to understand our existence too. God created an entire universe to dwarf us in, with inviolate laws and regulations. Our meagerness highlighted at every turn and our ending pre-coded into our very DNA, settled into the rules that govern the rest of what we can see. And He provided a single escape hatch, one sole way to find relief from the destiny awaiting us all. And He told us specifically what it is. There is no hidden compartment or secret path or shadowed agenda. The key to unlock it is faith. The way back to our loving Father is to believe what He is telling us is true. To take a step of faith and find His arms waiting to embrace us. 

De Gaulle was right, the graveyards are full of indispensable men, because every man is created with purpose and every man is destined to die. Yet there remains an empty tomb. An irrefutable testament that God’s way is distinct from our own. Beyond what we can achieve, surpassing what we deserve, outstripping our ability to comprehend, and in excess of what we could ever hope. The resurrection of Easter upends every notion we have about our meager existence. This is to point out to us the plan for something more. People require dramatic examples to shake them from their apathy. And the downward spiral of life’s autopilot generates a tremendous amount. So God made the grandest statement possible. “On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb.” (Luke 24:1) Fully prepared for the expected they are the first to be asked this incredible question. “[b]ut the men said to them, ‘Why do you look for the living among the dead?’” (Luke 24:5b) Resigned to sorrow they left that morning, then fearful of what they saw, and shocked by what they heard, they left with an enduring hope and excitement. Our world only offers decay, our Savior something quite the opposite. He provides a pathway to God’s restoration, which is a stark contrast to all other aspects of human existence. His choice is clear, it is distinct, it is a Hand reaching down to you. Accepting love requires two things, humility and faith. Your journey to acceptance may begin sorrowfully (many such journeys do), you may be fearful or apprehensive of what is asked, you may be shocked or incredulous at what you hear, but reaching the conclusion will offer enduring hope and boundless joy. God’s speciality is breathing life into the inert. Not repairing, but resurrecting. If you ever sought to reverse course, to revivify, restore, or raise, there is only One who can offer it. The laws of our universe dictate that such things are impossible. But ‘what some folks call impossible, is just stuff they haven’t seen before’. There remains an empty tomb. No rule of physics can account for it. Only the love of an unimaginably benevolent God. It’s empty as an invitation. Not to peer into the darkness of the grave, but to the light beyond it. Wrench away from the downward spiral and look up. You won’t regret it. 

Jordan Williamson