Smallness

Rising slowly throught the night sky over the lights of Calgary, everything seems small. It grows steadily smaller as we fly. The cars on the country roads look like very small, very slow fireflies, inching apprehensively along.

It is astounding to consider the vastness of our planet. I will never see most of it firsthand. I only hear about the wonders of the world, the beauty of the more exotic places, the sprawling beauty of rainforests, the vastness of a desert.

And then when I consider the size of our planet in relation to the universe, I am baffled. I heard it said that if our galaxy - and there are apparently billions of galaxies in the universe - is North America, our planet is comparable to a quarter. Not 25%. Twenty five cents. A coin on the face of the continent. To say we are small understates our situation considerably.

These concepts give a healthy dose of perspective. Man is painfully prone to an inflated ego. An outsider to our world might wonder, "Why do some of those little creatures walk around like they are so important?" There is a certain egotism expressed when we expand such energy worrying, complaining, and bitterly lamenting the ills of our lives.

The truth is, our life is but a vapor, and the death rate is one per person. It can seem rather unvaporlike though. Life can seem tedious, difficult, and painful. It can seem like one challenge after another.

I am thankful for God. I am thankful that he sees and understands every fear, frustration and failure. He does not necessarily attribute the same weight of importance to all of them - my priorites are certainly not always aligned with his. I don't think God's heart breaks like mine when I wish I had a bigger house. And I do wish I had a bigger house. But I know God's heart breaks when there are relationships that are less then they should be, or ones that are completely broken.

God's view of us is not one of an overbearing father, ready at a moments notice to dole out judgment. David describes him as "slow to anger and rich in love," and that "he has compassion on all he has made."

I echo the sentiment of scripture: "What is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him?" (Psalm 8:4) The universe we find ourselves we find ourselves in is unimaginably huge. And that is just what has happened - we have simply found ourselves to exist. We have been born to parents we did not choose, in a location we did not decide, in a universe we did not design.

Yet for all the musings of our size, we know how our Creator sees us - as his children. He is intimately aquainted with us. In fact, to say he is aquainted is a misconception. Psalm 139 says, "you percieve my thoughts...before a word is on my tongue you know it completely..." The Lord understands us totally and completely, far more than we understand ourselves. And, small and insignificant as we might feel, petty and self absorbed as we might become, he loves us perfectly.

Empty Christians

How could it be possible? Can Christians be empty? Aren't we of all people supposed to have found truth and meaning and joy? Aren't we supposed to be filled with the Holy Spirit? I know firsthand that they can be empty. I know that the less I intentionally pursue Christ, the more my desire for worldly things grows, and my control over worldly appetites diminishes. If I am not being filled by Him, I will look to fill myself with other things.

To once again quote Calvin Miller, "Emptiness leaves us wanton till we fill it with whatever secondary appetite might seem to stop our hungers of soul...when God fills our inner vacuum with his Holy Spirit, life works. When God does not fill the vacuum, a host of consuming appetites swarm through our better intentions..."

Wow, do I ever know what that feels like. As Christians, we know what is right. But when we are not filled up by a vibrant relationship with Christ, our actions and our knowledge of the truth tend to become slowly separated.

I remember the stage of my life when I was turning to the Lord, and becoming serious about my faith. I liked the thought of having a relationship the the Lord. And I knew what was right. But I actually felt as though I would never NOT want to do all the fun stuff - smoke, drink, etc. Yet I also recall the brilliant and burning appetite I inexplicably had for scripture. I was about 16, and after a series of experiences, I had seriously committed my life to the Lord. I would often wake up at 5 or 6 to read the Bible and pray. The particular stage lasted maybe a few months, and I have never recovered a similar hunger for the Bible. But as I developed my relationship with God, the desires for old things actually begin to fall away like scales, and I no longer considered them a struggle.

In the movie, "Fireproof", (a very popular movie in Christian circles, which most people thought was cheesy, but which brought tears to my eyes), there is a line that goes, "Don't just follow your heart. You've got to lead your heart." The complacent, empty heart is an incredibly dark and ugly place. There isn't a worse guide than the unguided human heart.

Calvin Miller remarks, "The seven deadly sins rarely root themselves in a busy, purposeful life. All of them grow best in the soil of human emptiness."

The question I asked earlier may apply. Can Christians be empty? I don't know. A Christian is someone who has a relationship with their Heavenly Father, however infantile and immature that relationship may be. But can we be a Christian with virtually no intent given to it? "No Christian is quite so dead as one whose vitality has been sapped by being out of touch with God."