27 Mar The Narrative being told
Overhead a narrative is being told of what is, what has been, and what is yet to be. It tells us that no matter how it looks, He has not left us. No matter how deep the night, darkness will not prevail.
Like the first Star Wars movie plunging us into the middle of a story, The Narrative tells us we are somewhere in the middle of a battle being waged between entrenched evil and the indomitable kingdom . In that first Star Wars movie, we bought our ticket and found our seat, knowing neither the beginning nor the end of the story. As we listen to The Narrative, it tells us not only what is, but also what has been, and what is yet to be–-for the future already exists.
Belonging to a universe whose mystery exceeds our grasp, we tend to create our own “narratives” trying to explain what is and why things happen the way they do: having no idea of the forces at work, the laws at play, the risks we face or where things are going. Some of our “stories” bear a remarkable similarity to reality. Others, not so much. We are caught up in a war of narratives, and it matters what narrative we listen to.
Only one narrative has continued to authenticate itself over thousands of years. Like unseen radio waves broadcasting wirelessly through the air, Scripture has streamed across vast reaches: from eternity into time, from the unseen into the seen, from the spiritual realm into the physical realm to confirm what it foretells in the unfolding events of history. Scripture was never meant to, nor will it ever convince the world of its authority. It chooses to authenticate itself in the most intimate of exchanges, meeting us one on one, where we are, telling us what is, what has been, and what is yet to be. It is the only narrative that has never evolved or changed, though men and movements evolve and change in their relationship to it. Part literal, part figurative, sometimes speaking directly and sometimes veiling itself in apocalyptic pictures, it tells us what we most need to know, when we need to hear it. We think we are reading it, but it is reading us.
Her name is Hagar. She was a slave in an unenlightened time during her life on earth. Sarai, her barren mistress, had sent her husband, Abram, into Hagar’s tent. Having easily conceived, her pregnancy ripening, Hagar began to feel superior to Sarai, despising her mistress. Sarai, wild with jealous pain, retaliated by treating Hagar cruelly. Hagar ran away. The Narrative tells of a messenger, who crosses realms to find Hagar in the wilderness by a spring of water. (The spring symbolizes drink from a hidden source.) “Hagar, Sarai’s maid, where have you come from, and where are you going?” With so few words, he nails what is and what has been. Then he gives Hagar a glimpse of what is yet to be for the son she is carrying. This transcendent exchange gives Hagar her bearings from a humanly inaccessible point of view. The Narrative confers dignity upon her, engendering a greater sense of responsibility as Hagar realizes that in the unfolding saga, a small part will be written through her. The hard facts of her life remained the same, but Hagar’s perspective shifts radically. (Genesis 16:6-14) She is no longer clueless and adrift, a victim of tyranny and injustice. Entrusting herself to the larger plan, she returns to her mistress. She faces into the waiting consequences, but she faces them in the strength of a transcendent exchange that has proven the existence of The One who sees her. The Narrative has authenticated itself in the very act of authenticating her.
The Narrative is God speaking into His creation. It is staggering that the eternal, immortal, invisible God stoops to engage with beings so beneath Himself. And yet, The Narrative not only tells us He does, but its intimate exchange meets us where we are. Words will leap off the page of our Bible surreally matching our present circumstance. We will dream something that gives us direction for a time in the future. The memory of a friend warms you, and a little later she will call, out of the blue, for the first time in years. The same number will appear again and again: each time God is telling you that you are in the right place, doing the right thing at the right time. A line from a book stops your heart as it flies straight at your deepest fear, neutering it. You hear God through the hard words of a lover. You resonate to what He is speaking just to you in a scene from a movie. You succumb to His intimate approach, as He sings your life in His song. With clarity, you begrudgingly admit the unmistakable message coming to you through orchestrated circumstances all too clearly making their point. All of this belongs to the intimately self-authenticating Narrative that moves seamlessly between His unfolding plan, the Bible in your hands and His thoughts upon the air.
For there are three that bear witness in heaven: the Father, the Word, and the Holy Spirit; and these three are one. 1 John 5:7 NKJV
I am God, and there is none like Me, declaring the end from the beginning, and from ancient times things that are not yet done, saying, ‘My counsel shall stand, and I will do all My pleasure. Isa 46:9-10