God’s Meta-Narrative and Spiritual Formation
We are delving into what I call the “Formation Gap.” Anyone who intentionally desires to become more like someone else joins a group of like-hearted people, and that group inevitably embraces five key elements: time, habit, community, intimacy, and instruction. You’ll find these in higher education, the military, early childhood, marriage, sports teams, and so on.
It appears that, at least at this moment in history, the only groups that do not incorporate all five elements are many modern Christian institutions.
One reason is that most institutions view themselves as instructional rather than transformational. They assume their purpose is to pass on accurate information, not to help shape their communities’ character.
Another reason is that many people interested in following Jesus are unaware that the goal isn’t simply to be converted, educated, or put into service. The goal is to participate in the most incredible adventure in history—to become the humans God intends us to be, a new type of human in a new creation. This is the revolutionary change Christ enacted when He split time in two.
That’s a Bummer
However, I increasingly encounter people who don’t think God likes them very much. Even if they are following Jesus, God only pays attention to them because He sees them through the lens of Jesus’ death. It’s as if, without Jesus’ sacrifice, we are worthless.
The idea that God may not like us that much and only tolerates us because of Jesus isn’t always consciously expressed, but it seems to simmer beneath the surface. I catch hints of it in conversations with friends or in snippets of sermons and teachings. I’ve seen variations of quotes such as, “God doesn’t accept us the way we are; He accepts us despite the way we are.” To some, that quote is really good news. To others, it only reinforces the idea that we aren’t worth much.
I wonder if we’ve lost the plot of God’s universal story.
The Universal Story
So, let’s take a brief look at the “meta-narrative.”
God created the world and humankind. It’s obvious that He delighted in His creation, particularly in people. He extended an invitation (contrary to other ancient gods or religions) for humans to rule and steward His creation with Him. He desired human beings to be co-regents in His grand project of developing the earth.
For love to exist, a choice must exist, so God loved humans enough to allow us to rule with Him or without Him. We chose to rule without Him.
Despite our choice to tell God to get lost, the narrative does not portray a God who took His toys and went home. Instead, it shows a God who goes to extreme lengths to be with us. Time and again, we pushed Him away, but time and again, He came back because of His passion and longing to dwell with His people.
He launched a plan to restore what He had started. It started with just one man, then expanded to a family, and then a nation. Despite their repeated and harmful betrayals and rejections, God even dwelt with these chosen people in a tent and then a building.
When all was said and done, the only way for God to once again permanently dwell with His good creation was for Him to become one of us, and so He did. When Jesus walked the earth, He sure seemed to like a lot of people, even the odd, timid, angry, boastful, and callous ones. Men, women, children, people in power, people with no power, rulers, leaders, rejects, and outcasts.
Now, because of Jesus, God’s offer to be with us extends to the world, not just to one man, family, or nation.
And one day, down the road, God will finish what He started. The Bible begins with a garden and ends with a garden. It starts with God ruling with His people and ends with God ruling with His people, though the second time around, no one will even bother thinking about ruling by themselves.
Although to say “God will finish what He started” isn’t entirely accurate. It will just be the beginning.
The Tenacious Quest to Dwell With Us
God has gone to extraordinary lengths to be with us, and He continues to do so. Not only is every human being unique, invaluable, and precious – a divine work of art, as it were – God is the most joyful, happy being in the universe and seems to really, really want to share that with us. Even when we stubbornly refuse.
This is a story worth marinating in. If time is a key element of our formation, repeating this story to ourselves over and over again may be a vital, powerful reminder to our hearts of God’s passion and pursuit of us. There is joy and security in knowing and being known, particularly by God. It’s something more than head knowledge – we yearn to experience it.
But What About…?
Now, some will rightfully point out that I haven’t really dealt with the most infamous three-letter word: sin. Doesn’t our choice to rule by ourselves separate us from God? Yes. Aren’t we restored to a wonderful relationship with God only because Jesus became sin for us? Yes. How do we fit God’s passion, pursuit, and liking of humans with His holiness and justice?
But here, we must stop and ask ourselves whether our decisions to self-rule
change our inherent value in addition to breaking our four relationships (with God, others, self, and creation). We know sin causes us to be lost and blind. Does it also make us worthless? Does following Jesus restore our worth, or does Jesus pursue us because of that worth?
I suppose my concern is what Strahan Coleman refers to as “sin-obsession.” Sometimes, modern Christianity becomes so concerned about sin that we forget to mention the vital, larger narrative in which that sits.
Harm to ourselves and others is serious business. Rejecting God’s good rule in favor of our own results in damage and destruction 100% of the time.
But we risk losing the meta-narrative if we focus only on the “sin/not sin equation.” As Coleman notes, the primary purpose of Jesus’ sacrifice was not just about sin but reconciliation and restoration.
If we lose the meta-narrative (that God will complete His quest to be with us and to share His rule with us), we risk functioning under the idea that a life with Jesus is simply about doing good things and avoiding harm. And that type of idea can certainly be the breeding ground for assuming that God wants nothing to do with us and only grudgingly engages us because we follow His son.
Instead, we might ponder His grander story. I’m not suggesting we wink at our harmful thoughts, behaviors, and patterns. I am suggesting we take a step back and spend some time contemplating the lengths God goes to share Himself with us. Because God not only loves us, He likes us. The question is how we respond to such overflowing affection.
