One man loves well but he cannot manage money. She manages money but struggles to care for her husband. He cares for his family and serves in his community but is addicted to work. She loves the Lord but drinks herself to sleep at night. She swears and smokes and has a short temper, but a soft and generous heart. He’s defensive and fearful but passionate about justice and mercy. He gives to the poor, cares for orphans and widows, but struggles with pornography.

This is who we are. We are a people in process. We are all incomplete.

Yet why then do we fight to disbelieve that we should be complete? Why do we hate ourselves for unachieved completion? Have we ever looked critically at the people that God loved, chose, honored, befriended?

In his own image he made them. In the image of God he made them. In his image he made us, you and me.

The girl, not exactly attractive, stood at the counter waiting for the clerk to make change for her. She looked over her shoulder to the row of tables and their guests facing her. Her eyes met those of a young man at one of the tables. She smiled.

Internally the debate raged, would he smile at her? Physical beauty is esteemed, and what’s not beautiful, we offer little attention or affection.

Her smile, though, revealed to him the truth, a truth not dependent on his reaction of approval or disdain. She was made by God. God had her in mind. And God smiled when he looked upon her. Despite what she did or did not possess in the way of physical beauty, Beauty made her and resided there. He had cast her in his own image.

Have you ever wanted heaven having grown sick of sin in this world? It may have simply inhabited the air around you, or you may have tripped over it too many times, but either way, it gave you a semi-nauseating feeling in your stomach. You see it around you, in advertising, in movies and on television, at almost any social event, and you think, “There’s got to be more than this. This is just disgusting and heartbreaking.” You start to hate this non-life offered as a poor substitute for real life in this convoluted world.

Or you wrestle with a certain sin (or twenty) and inside you feel sad, broken, sick, frustrated and angry because you did it, and you hoped and promised you would not, and yet you did. And maybe you start to loathe part of yourself.

Killing time in an airport, I struck up a conversation with a stranger. When asked what I “do,” I told this man that I write about Jesus’ teachings. The man, hearing the name “Jesus” but not hearing any tip-off code words, fired off the test questions: “Do you believe Jesus is the Son of God? That he shed his blood for our sins? That he died and rose again? That we will be with him forever if we repent and are baptized?” I forgot a few in the litany because his machine-gun delivery leveled me.
 

The Bible begins with creation. God creates something from nothing and transforms void into vastness. Light differentiates from darkness. Land separates from sea. Trees, plants and animals are given life and placed in the newness newly created.

Then God crafts his most artistic work, man. He sculpts the form and imbues a specific gift and unique purpose: creativity and the ability to create. He allows man to give birth, both to offspring and also to ideas. While man cannot imitate God in the creation of something from nothing, he can create something from something.

He thus becomes artist and co-creator with God.

In heaven, I think George Steinbrenner won’t be able to buy all the players he wants.
I think celebrities won’t be as weird as they are here, and politicians won’t be as insecure.
In heaven, I think NBA players will play hard all game, all 82 games.
I think beer will be cheap at concerts, pro sports games and fall festivals.
I think heaven will see Mick Jagger and Keith Richards get along.
I think the Ryder Cup will be evenly matched every year.
In heaven, I think healthy food will taste great.
I think the BCS will work properly, resulting in an eight-team playoff.
I think all barbeque will come from Memphis.
We’ll never cork the wine.
I think all customers at restaurants will tip servers well.
That’s some of what I think.

He led a people out of Egypt. Can he lead us out of the slavery of our wounds and past?  Do we need counselors, exercise and medications for this? Can Jesus make me patient, kind, good, loving, joyful, peaceful, gentle, faithful, self-controlled? Or will that merely happen “with time”? Does this happen with Jesus plus something else?

Can this friend of sinners help me through divorce? Sexual abuse? Alcoholism? Adultery? Addiction? Broken self-image? Bankruptcy? Failed businesses and a shattered career? Self-righteousness? Arrogance? Pride? A desire to steal? A habit of deceit? Can he who rose from the dead also resurrect us from rejection? Should we look to meditation and retreats for these?

Is he enough for this world? Can he heal divisions in our church? In our country? In our government? On our teams? In our offices? In our households? Between India and China? Between Muslims and Christians? Between PCA and PCUSA? Between Bush and Clinton? Between Democrat and Republican? Between black churches and white churches? Between Palestinians and Israelis? Between oil barons and greenies?