From Jane: What is God like?   Isn’t this what we all want to know?  For me, everything hinges on the answer to this question – how I see myself; my genuine love for others; and, most importantly, my love and trust for God.

What my father was like…

I have no desire to paint an unfair picture of my father.  At times, he was supportive.  He encouraged my interests, and I never lacked for any of my physical needs.

But too often my emotions were trampled upon. Little girls should not be told over and over how **** stupid they are.

A four-year-old should not have to watch as her enraged father pulls out his pocket knife and slices her rubber ball in half because she bounced it in the house. (I began having nightmares after this event.)

A thirteen-year-old should not have to sit sobbing as her outraged father cuts her bangs within an inch of her hairline because they were too **** long! For months, I carefully tucked my one-inch bangs under longer hair before school each morning until they finally grew out.

When I brought the family car home twenty minutes late after school one day, he cussed me out and called me a “dog.” 

My father softened as he aged, and he wanted to hear about God.  Before he died, he knew that both God and I loved him very much.  

Even so, my father’s treatment of me had lasting effects. 

What Jesus was like . . .

By late high school, I was brokenhearted.  Due in large part to my childhood and guilt over my own sins, I sank into a deep depression.  

As a last resort, I took a leap of faith.

Because Christ became a man, maybe he could understand my confusion and pain. Maybe he cared about how I felt. So, with all the faith I could muster – and it wasn’t much – I asked Him to help me.   

Soon I began to grasp His extravagant love for me and what he gave to fill my throbbing emptiness.  I became convinced of my value and worth—and oh, how I needed that.   

Ephesians says that the love of Christ is so wide and long and high and deep that it surpasses knowledge. This perfectly describes the love that embraced me that summer evening when I was seventeen.

I began to read the New Testament and was captivated by Christ – especially how He treated people, even tax collectors, prostitutes, and outcasts. A “friend of sinners” is what they called Him. He received children with open arms, identified with “the least of these,” and forgave the very ones who nailed Him to the cross… I fell hopelessly in love.    

Now I am a grandmother.  It is His extravagant love for me and His trustworthy character that has anchored me these many years.

A surprising twist

A few years back, our pastor at the time began describing God in a way that sounded a lot like my father. I was horrified! 

He said things like, “God doesn’t want you to love yourself.” “God doesn’t want you to be happy,” and “the only reason you exist is to bring God glory.”  

Now, depending on how you define terms, there may be some truth in some of these statements. But taken together, what was he saying about what God is like?

I had always implicitly trusted my pastor.  After all, I had not gone to seminary; I didn’t hold a PhD in theology.  Maybe I had been wrong about God all these years.  Maybe God doesn’t really wish that none should perish – maybe He’s mainly concerned about His own glory, and if predestining the masses to eternal punishment before the world began brings Him glory – then maybe that was what I should be believing too.

But could I trust the God they described?  Could I love Him?  I became confused and discouraged. My faith took a real hit. 

After leaving our church of almost 20 years, I’ve been researching this strange movement called Calvinism, comparing its understanding of Scripture with what the Scripture really says (or at least what I have always believed it says). 

What Calvinism says God is like…

Not everyone who holds to Calvinism interprets Scripture in the same way. In addition, I believe that most people who call themselves Calvinists are sincere believers in Jesus Christ. But I also believe that they are sincerely wrong about what God is like.  

Much can be said concerning Calvinistic doctrine, but I want to focus on two doctrines unique to this theology.

Reprobation

Most Calvinists believe that Christ died only for a small minority (those “elected” by God in eternity past); the rest of humanity is eternally lost without remedy. In fact, if we believe salvation is conditioned upon our faith, they say that we are, in part, saving ourselves and thereby robbing God of the glory due Him. 

A prominent Calvinist pastor was approached by a woman who had been praying and asking God to save her, but she had not experienced any change. “You’ve learned something very important,” was this pastor’s reply. “You cannot ask God to save you.”  

But God says that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him (Hebrews 11:6).  He says “Come to me” (Matthew 11:28-30). And “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and you shall be saved” (Acts 16:31). 

Wouldn’t it be a mocking taunt for God to promise (over and over and over again) that if we seek Him, we will find Him, if in fact it were not even possible for the vast majority? The phrase “your faith” is found more than twenty times in Scripture. And there is not the least suggestion that the exercise of our faith detracts at all from God’s glory, as many Calvinists insist.

This teaching relies heavily on Romans 9, believing that God elects only a few individuals to be saved, and the rest are reprobated by God, eternally punished in Hell, without hope or recourse.  But taken in context, and allowing the rest of Scripture to inform our understanding of Romans 9, Paul is likely speaking of two nations — Israel and Edom (Esau’s descendants), not individual salvation. God did elect, or choose, one nation through whom to bring the Savior, but this had nothing to do with personal salvation. [Note from Rebecca: See my article on Romans 9 here.]

When it comes to how God saves, why would these teachers rely so heavily on one chapter, along with a relatively few other passages, developing a doctrine that flatly contradicts the core salvific truths stated repeatedly throughout the rest of the Bible?

God has given us a conscience (Romans 2), and our God-given conscience cries out against such injustice, recoiling at the idea of God creating human beings without any hope or recourse, for the sole purpose of predestining them to eternal torment – for His glory! Even leading Calvinists like John Piper report crying for days when first introduced to this doctrine. 

In Calvinism, the relationship between God and humanity is grounded more on authority and power than on love. Similarly, the underlying message of abuse is always about power and control.  You are not allowed a choice.  You are not allowed to say “yes” or “no.”

It’s hard to describe how devastating this theology has been to me personally and how antithetical it seems to the Jesus whose arms embraced me when I was a broken teen.  Yes, God is sovereign and all-powerful. The real question is how does He use His power – to promote His own glory at man’s expense, or to gain man’s salvation at His own? 

Human Worth

Isn’t the most pressing need of the human heart to be deeply loved and valued, to know that we matter, really matter, to someone?  This legitimate need is not narcissistic.  Could this universal, inborn desire come from God Himself,  a need that He has placed deep within us; a desire that only He can truly fill?  

A belief system that condemns and shames the legitimate, God-given need to be valued should be highly suspect.

Calvinism seems to promote an odd kind of self-loathing – not unlike the self-loathing that growing up with abuse gives rise to. When my father repeatedly called me names and told me how stupid I was, it didn’t exactly engender feelings of worth. How many victims of abuse have believed the lie that they were worthless and then have lived with that shame–or have even ended their own lives?

According to John MacArthur, “There’s nothing about us that has value… nothing about us that has worth.” (I wonder… how does he treat people if he deems them worthless?)   [Note from Rebecca: See my study of what it means to be “worthy” here.]

But God says that His thoughts about us cannot be numbered (Psalm 139:17-18).  We are precious and honored in His sight (Isaiah 43:4); and I am His masterpiece (Ephesians 2:10).  He calls us friends (John 15:15); I am His child and heir (Galatians 4:7).   It sure sounds like I have some sort of value.

When I began to understand that God valued me, I began to value myself. But not in an arrogant way. Ironically, when I finally grasped my true value, I no longer needed to act superior. 

Far from it; in fact, humility and an authentic love for others began to permeate my relationships – I began to love others the way that Christ loved me. 

We need look no further than the Cross to measure our worth.  Why would anyone pervert the beautiful message of Christ’s overture of matchless love to all people into something else, something perverted?

What is God really like?

Ultimately, I realized that God would not require me to believe what my pastor said–or anyone else for that matter, regardless of how many lofty titles punctuate their name.  God expects me to go to His Word myself, with an open mind and heart. 

When I finally did, it didn’t take long to be convinced of what God is really like.  

“The light of the knowledge of the glory of God is found in the face of Christ” (2 Corinthians 4:6). And when I look into His face, eyes filled with tenderness look back at me.  I see not just a good God, but a marvelously good God, who not only deeply loved a hurting teenager, but who deeply loves everyone else too.

He, the true God, is a God we can trust. He, the God who loves us with an everlasting love, is a God we can love in return.

 

 

 

 

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Go here to download your free Guide, How to Enjoy the Bible Again (when you’re ready) After Spiritual Abuse (without feeling guilty or getting triggered out of your mind). You’ll receive access to both print and audio versions of the Guide (audio read by me). I’m praying it will be helpful.