Playing Hide and Seek With God
According to Brittanica.com, hide-and-seek was [first] described by a Greek writer named Julius Pollux in the 2nd century BCE, which is really taking it way back. He calls the game apodidraskinda and describes it as something nearly identical to today's version of hide-and-seek.
Throughout the history of the childhood game Hide-and-Seek, with its roots believed to date back to ancient Greece [and probably beyond], there has never been a hider who didn’t know they were hiding. After all, the game often requires participants to squeeze into uncomfortable spaces and hold their breath when the seeker gets too close.
Likewise, living in denial of God’s existence takes considerable effort. For example, it is a daunting challenge to avoid the implications of an exquisitely choreographed and infinitely complex universe. Without the hand of God, how could everything materialize from a void of nothingness? And even if that could be explained, how did interdependent layers of complexity and design emerge from simplicity? And even if sense could be made of that, how did life then burst forth from the barren womb of lifeless matter?
Given the contortions required to explain the universe without appealing to a Creator, it’s safe to say that, beneath all the bother, there has never been a hider who didn’t know they were hiding from God.
This includes the eminent evolutionary biologist and professional God-dodger, Richard Dawkins, who provocatively declared, “Biology is the study of complicated things that give the appearance of having been designed for a purpose.” Dawkins candidly acknowledged that living organisms “overwhelmingly impress us with the appearance of design, as if by a master watchmaker.”
Yet, in a plot twist rivaling an M. Night Shyamalan movie, Dawkins asserts that the breathtaking design we observe in the cosmos isn’t real! This baffling conclusion is based on his contention that God isn’t real either. As the logic goes, if there is no God, then we can’t attribute purpose or intent to anything that we observe in nature.
Naturalists like Dawkins argue that the cosmos only appears to be a masterpiece of design. Thus, it’s not the facts of a well-designed universe that they seek to avoid as much as the Grand Architect to whom those facts point.
Despite the appearance of a well-designed universe, we are asked to believe that the cosmos came about without conscious guidance. In other words, the universe is sending mixed messages.
But let's be real—the only telltale sign a Grand Designer would leave is, well, the appearance of design! To dismiss the idea of a Designer, in the face of the very proof one would expect to find, shows that even the most convincing evidence can be brushed aside when it doesn't fit a predetermined narrative. Even evidence acknowledged as “overwhelming” is inexplicably dismissed.
To avoid replicating this mistake, we must be willing to scrutinize our presuppositions as rigorously as we examine our facts. Otherwise, our assumptions take the driver’s seat, relegating the facts to passenger status.
"For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse" (Romans 1:20, ESV).
"By faith we understand that the universe was created by the word of God, so that what is seen was not made out of things that are visible" (Hebrews 11:3, ESV).
"For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him" (Colossians 1:16, ESV).
Death Makes An Appearance
Daily News reports:
After a graveside eulogy and a few prayers, the scene morphed quickly from silence to Stephen King with the appearance of the foot.
“We all looked down and we were looking at what apparently was a human foot and leg wrapped in plastic, with cloth wrapped around it, sticking out on top of my father’s casket,” said Alonzo Butler, 53.
One of the mourners snapped a cellphone photo of what looks like an outtake from “The Walking Dead.”
Relatives later griped the cemetery workers ignored the dangling foot and quickly filled in the grave.
... Mount Holiness owner James Shmergel felt that the attention to the ghoulish grave mishap was overblown.
“Is it newsworthy? In a cemetery?” asked Shmergel. “Not really.”
The Butlers may hire a lawyer and file a lawsuit seeking compensation for pain and suffering.
But cemetery caretaker Bill Plog, who started at Mount Holiness in 1983, said he was surprised such incidents were so rare.
“There was a casket,” he said. “It deteriorated. You can purchase a concrete vault, but people don’t. That grave there is from 1969 . . . It’s unfortunate that this happened, but this is a graveyard.”
Death is disturbing, so we do our best to literally bury it. We don’t want to see it, not even at a graveside! But is denial really the best way to deal with this reality?
King David, in the 23rd Psalm, suggested that we, “walk through the valley of the shadow of death” (v. 4). This may seem like a pretty negative outlook on life, but although David was a realist, he was not a fatalist. Even though he recognized the presence of death, he did not live in “fear” (v. 4). Rather, he found comfort knowing that God was always with him (v.4), and he possessed the assurance that one day he would, “dwell in the house of the Lord forever” (v. 6).
Death is meant to be disturbing; it is designed to get our attention. But most importantly it’s intended to draw us closer to God, the only place where comfort and assurance can be found.
Remember, this is a graveyard! But according to King David, God's comfort and assurance are the ultimate reality, even in the graveyard!
“Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?" (1 Corinthians 15:55).
"This Won't Happen to Me"
Rev. Gary Richmond wrote a book titled, "A View From the Zoo.” He wasn’t writing about college; he was telling of the couple of years he worked with animals at the L.A. Zoo. He shares stories of animals and makes adaptations to human life. Some of the stories are parables.
One story is about bandit, an 18 month old raccoon pet of a neighbor of Gary's. The animal was irresistible. It followed its owner everywhere and had some very appealing mannerisms. It grew to 25 pounds and seemed to be the best companion anyone could expect.
Gary mentioned to the zoo veterinarian about the unique relationship and asked why don’t more people keep raccoons as pets. The vet’s answer greatly surprised him: "They undergo a glandular change at about 24 months. After that, they become unpredictable, independent, and often attack their owners."
"Are there any exceptions?" Gary inquired.
"None that I know of," was the reply.
"Then Julie is likely to be bitten?"
"Any time now, I should think," the doctor added with conviction.
Gary knew that a thirty pound raccoon can be equal to a one hundred pound dog in a scrap, and felt obligated to warn his neighbor regarding her safety. He explained to her that she was in danger. Her response was more emotional than rational: "It will be different for me...Bandit is different." And she smiled and added, "Bandit wouldn’t hurt me. He just wouldn’t."
Three months later Julie, the neighbor, underwent plastic surgery for facial lacerations sustained when her adult raccoon attacked her for no apparent reason. The raccoon was released into the wild.
Gary Richmond goes on to point out a variety of individuals who have said something much like Julie, "This won’t hurt me. It will be different for me." You know the examples: People experimenting with drugs; a pregnant girl abandoned by her "lover;" a woman leaving her husband believing her kids won’t suffer, as others have; and a college student who says a few drinks don’t slow him down, just before he crashes his car and kills himself and three friends. The list could go on and on.
Perhaps we should do as Gary Richmond advises us: "Now, repeat out loud the following phrase, ’Maybe it won’t be different for me.'" This could lead to us recognizing our need to correct a situation that is likely to lead to our devastation, depression, or destruction. If you are engaging in any behavior that has risks which you have denied so far, please take a moment to reflect on what you are doing and correct your actions.
"Can a man scoop fire into his lap without his clothes being burned?" (Proverbs 6:27).