Dear John MacArthur,

As the guy who created the supernatural-centric films Finger of God, Furious Love, and Father of Lights, I realize that I may very well be near the top of your list of “least saved” people, as my movies have reached millions of people around the world with the message that God is active and alive today and is doing all sorts of amazing, outrageous and (gulp) strange miracles, and that it is the primary mission of the worldwide church to love radically while utilizing the gifts of the Holy Spirit both freely and abundantly. I’m also making a new movie called Holy Ghost which I’m pretty sure you won’t like at all. So I think it’s safe to say that you and I could probably not be further apart regarding the gifts of the Spirit and our dedication to advancing what we think is right throughout the world. We’re both trying to change the temperature of the worldwide church, but the problem is, we’re pushing the dial in opposite directions. That being said, I wanted to write you to let you know that I agree with you…sort of.

I have to admit, when I first read about and then followed along with your conference, it both frustrated and angered me. Not so much because you were calling people like me a liar or a charlatan or even Satan’s puppet. No, I was frustrated because I know, wholeheartedly, that you are wrong on this issue. You are leading the charge in a cause that, I assure you, is doomed to fail. You are essentially fighting against God on this one, and it saddens me that you want to take the hands of others and lead them down this road. You have decided to turn your back on a large portion of your family because you don’t think they are your family.

You have led a crusade against a vast tribe of Christianity that I used to think were completely insane. I used to be very much like you regarding these things. The charismatic movement made me uncomfortable because they seemed so free, so bold, and so weird. I, like you, wasn’t sure this was entirely from God, but that observation came from someone sitting on the sidelines watching these strange family members acting like weirdos. I hid behind the idea that their behavior defined their theology, therefore they could never really be taken seriously. I heard the outrageous claims some of them made and rolled my eyes. I saw many of them focus on the gifts more than the giver of the gifts.

But then God called me (through a supernatural event, no less) to make movies about Him, and to write books about Him, and my whole world got turned upside down. I began to realize that the God of the Bible was far bigger, more gracious, patient, and powerful than I ever thought. I was thrown into the very Charismatic world which you now demonize. I was no longer on the sidelines, but smack dab in the thick of it. And along the way, I saw a lot of good and a lot of bad.

Over the last 7 years I’ve traveled the world searching for the “more” of God. I have seen some of the best that charismatic Christianity has to offer, as well as some of the worst. Much has already been written about your over-generalizations and straw man arguments against the Charismatic movement, but I wanted to say something to this regard that might shock you.

You’re right. There are many people, many Charismatics and Pentecostals who are about as whacky and goofy as you have described them. People who “toke the Holy Ghost”? Friends of mine. People who “shake and laugh uncontrollably”? Family members. People who “speak in tongues”? Nearly everyone I know. I have sat with leaders of enormous Charismatic ministries as they’ve sniped at their spouses. I have seen meetings turn into train wrecks because a speaker or a portion of the audience went overboard in their fleshly exuberance. I have watched leaders stretch the truth from the stage to the point where I was certain it would snap. I’ve seen it all, Mr. MacArthur, the whole messy, ugly, unbiblical underbelly of the Charismatic movement.

And guess what? I’m still here.

Because that isn’t all I have seen. I have seen those same ministers caring for orphans and widows. I have seen them kiss the hands of lepers. I have sat with them in the backs of vans and trains and planes as they’ve poured out their heart to me, explained why they do what they do–how Jesus touched them in such a radical way that they can never go back; they can never be the same again. I have looked into their eyes and have seen the love of Christ pouring out. I have heard them talk about their passion for Christ, heard them preach about the importance of His death and resurrection; the importance of the Bible and the Word, and seen them model every fruit of the Spirit.

I have three young children and each one is unique, but they all have one thing in common. One minute they can be beautiful and loving and tender to one another, and the next they can be perfect little monsters. As their father, I see the best and the worst they have to offer, yet still I love them. And everyday I go to work trying to move their love needle a little closer to heaven. Their journey towards perfect love, as with all of us, will take a lifetime, and sometimes even that isn’t long enough. But I will never disown them because of their stupidity or their ignorance.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that while you have discounted an entire move of God because you have seen some of the worst it has to offer, there is so much more that you haven’t seen that completely overshadows and outshines even the craziest Charismaniac out there. We are members of one family, Mr. MacArthur, and I don’t know about yours, but my family is messy and complicated and beautiful and strange all at the same time.

I’m not angry at you for your conference or your book. In fact, if you’ll let me, I’d love to sit next to you at the banqueting table in heaven and we can make a toast to the King together. I know you don’t think I’ll actually GET to heaven, but that’s fine. I’ll see you there anyway. Because after all, families have to stick together no matter what.

“The Boring Parts of the Old Testament”

At the age of 13, God spoke to me for the very first time. I was at a youth camp in Michigan, and the preacher that night had invited anyone who wanted to hear a word from God to come forward. All my friends went up, so of course, I went up too. I don’t think I’ve ever been the first guy up front at an altar call. It’s one of the great evangelical secrets. No matter how much the sermon speaks to you and how strongly you think you should probably go up there, you’re going to sit back and wait for some other schmuck with the same issues as you to go first. Ah, the psychology of church going. I should write a book about THAT.

Regardless of what got me up there, here I was surrounded by a sea of teenagers, all with their heads bowed in solemn assembly, and I had no idea what to do. I think the leader said something like, “Just talk to Him,” but that didn’t help much. Talk to who? The air? I felt kind of silly, like I was five years old again talking to my imaginary friend. But everyone else seemed to be taking this seriously, so I figured I should too. So I thought, “Well God, do you want to tell me anything?” Immediately, one word pounded into my head and didn’t stop. I still remember it to this day, like a jackhammer. “Writer. Writer. Writer. Writer.” It just filled my thoughts completely. I guess God really knew who He was dealing with, as He was making VERY certain I didn’t misunderstand Him. At that moment, I knew that I was supposed to be a writer.

After that, I got about as seriously into writing as a 13 year old kid can get. I read every book on writing I could get my hands on, wrote tons of terrible short stories, and dreamed of one day being rich and famous. Thankfully, I grew up in an artists home, and my grandfather was a struggling writer as well, so I had some grounding in the reality of making it as a professional. My dad made no bones about the fact that it was a million-to-one shot that I’d ever make it as a writer. Far from deterring me, though, it just fueled me on to show him, and myself, that I could do it. I knew it was my destiny, but I also knew, even at that age, that I had a long road ahead of me. So I continued reading, continued writing, and it soon grew into an obsession. It was all I thought about, all I wanted to do. I wanted to understand the ins and outs of storytelling, to be a master at it.

By the time I got to college, I was a full blown writing addict. My college friends can attest to the fact that I was about as big of a writing nerd as you can get. Too often than I care to remember, I turned down some Friday night invitation to something fun because I had to get through 20 pages that night. In 18 months I wrote 5 terrible books. But still, they were books, and I was proud of them.

Then I moved on to grad school to learn the craft of screenwriting, and became even more steeped in the art of storytelling, drama, conflict, dialogue, character, dilemma, and pacing. Slowly, after nearly two decades of this, I got to the point where I felt I had a fairly decent grasp of the art of storytelling.

In case you missed it, the title of this chapter is “The Boring Parts of the OT”, and at this point you may be wondering what in the world any of this has to do with the Bible. Well, it partly explains why I feel I have to address any of the boring parts of the Bible at all. I am a professional storyteller, and I believe God is the greatest Storyteller of them all. Why, then, is there so much stuff in His book that is almost unreadable?

First, I should probably define what exactly I’m talking about when I say “the boring parts”. It’s pretty simple. You know those parts of the Bible you never read? That stuff.

Specifically, genealogies. So-and-so begat some-other-so, and they begat this-guy who begat that-guy, and so on and so forth until you feel your eyes are going to bleed. I NEVER read this stuff, unless I heard there was some interesting bit thrown in, like that guy Peleg. If you’re not familiar with Peleg, he shows up in Genesis 10:25. Right in the middle of a bunch of begats, you get this little gem:

“Two sons were born to Eber: One was named Peleg, because in his time the earth was divided; his brother was named Joktan.”

What the heck is that all about? In his day the earth was divided? What does that mean? Go ahead and look it up in your commentaries, you know you want to. It’s too tantalizing, too strange to just ignore. But then after that, we’re right back into begatting, begetting, and begutting, and I’m snoring in my Laz-y-boy.

I have to think that most people don’t think much about the boring parts simply because they don’t ever read them. Why worry about something that you’ll never read anyway and doesn’t seem to mean much? That was the attitude I had for a long time, until I grew deeper in my understanding of storytelling. I never doubted that God wrote the Bible, nor did I ever doubt that He knew what He was doing the whole time, which is what made these boring parts such a problem for me. If God is such a great storyteller, then how did he ever let this stuff get past the rough draft stage?

The first rule of any storyteller is to entertain. The second rule is that every part of the story must serve a purpose. If a story isn’t entertaining (ie, interesting) then no one is going to stick around long enough to finish that story. If people don’t stick around, you don’t have a career. Sure there’s other parts of a story that aren’t always entertaining–parts for setting, mood, etc… but these boring parts don’t do any of that. They don’t further the story at all. It’s just…a family tree. What does the inclusion of this stuff tell us about the Author?

As I write this, I am 37 years old. Young enough to not be old, but old enough to not be young either. As such, and as a father with children who are getting bigger and older right before my eyes, I can’t help but begin to ponder the finiteness of this life. When I was younger, I never thought about death, because I didn’t care. I had other things to worry about, like girls. Life was just something I took for granted, because I had so much of it in front of me. But now I’ve got a lot more road behind me, and I’m beginning to realize that eventually this road is going to run out of pavement, and that’s going to be it.

I was very close to both of my grandparents on my father’s side growing up. But now they are both gone and I hardly ever think of them. I barely knew my great-grandmother, and I never think of her anymore. I never met any of my ancestors beyond her, and as much or as little as they may shape my genetic makeup, I’ll never know, because they’ve been gone for so long they have faded from everyone’s memory in my family. Eventually, my parents will pass away, and I’ll grow old, and I’ll tell my grandchildren about their great-grandparents, and how similar to them they are, and they’ll barely think about my mother or father because they’re young and have other things to worry about, like girls.

And then I’ll be gone, on to the next great adventure. And while my films and books may keep me on some people’s radar, eventually the people who really KNOW me will grow old or move on, and soon there will be no one on this planet who can ever again say they knew me. Yet life will go on, and children will be born, and love will flourish, and families will grow, and the cycle will continue. The whole thing may seem somewhat poetic, but in reality, it’s kind of depressing.

Having made movies that have profoundly impacted many people around the world, I often get asked what it feels like knowing how many lives have been changed from something I created. In all honesty, I hardly ever think about it. It’s not some noble, humble thing either, I can assure you. The reality is I have no idea who those people are who have been so impacted, other than a few emails or short encounters when I speak somewhere. I know there is some large contingent out there who I’ve impacted, but they’re just that, “out there”. I don’t know them, so they don’t really affect me.

Which brings us back to our main topic. Boring stuff of the OT. In essence, these genealogies are God’s record of the lives that led to His Son. They are lives fully lived, and He was there for every second. I look at these lists and immediately grow sleepy. I have a feeling God looks at these lists completely differently, though.

While I’m sure there are many theologians out there who will roll their eyes at my rudimentary lack of understanding in regards to the cultures and purposes the Scriptures were “historically” written for, and who understand that the Bible can’t be read like a spy novel, and who take issue with my central conceit that God actually “wrote” the Bible, I hope those reading this understand where I am coming from and what I am trying to do. These are not the only ways to read the Scriptures, nor should they be. But just as there are infinite depths to God’s love, intelligence, and character, I don’t see it as much of a stretch to think that there might also be many, many things we can learn from the book He wrote.

That being said, I have to believe that God is whispering something to us, even as we skip over these boring parts without the slightest glance. The truth is, and it is shown by His insistence on these genealogies making the final cut, that He cares, a lot, about families. And even more than that, He cares about individuals. He cares about your life. Your legacy. You. And even though we may forget who our great, great grandmothers are, He most certainly does not. And while we may have no idea how our actions today will affect our great, great grandchildren tomorrow, He, most certainly, does. Your life will come to an end, and eventually no one will remember you were even here.
Well, almost no one. And somehow that’s comforting. So I guess there is a point to all that boring stuff after all.

Chapter 4
God’s Invisibility Cloak

Ever since I was a little boy, I’ve wondered what God looked like. At first I figured He was just like a puff of smoke, since He was a “spirit” and didn’t have flesh and blood like me, but then I remembered reading in Genesis that He decided to make man in His “image”, whatever that means. I would have internal debates with myself if He was talking about the essence of Himself or, you know, His hair color. Was this “image” something internal, inside of us; something that could not be quantified per se but that everyone will be able to recognize when we get to heaven and see Him outright? Or does God have hairy armpits like me?

Maybe it’s just my odd mind at work, but if, by some chance, we aren’t the only ones He created, and out there in the vastness of the Universe is another life form, another planet, and another people He is trying to have relationship with, would He have created them in His image as well, or would He have thought about throwing a curve ball, spicing things up a bit? These are the things I ponder, and they are probably the stupidest things I could spend my time pondering. But even as a child I wondered what God looked like, and I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one. Quite often for me it has simply been a case of pure, unadulterated curiosity. Is He absolutely enormous? For a long time, whenever I thought about heaven, I pictured billions of people worshipping at the throne, and two big feet sitting there. Like He’s so big we can’t even see the top of Him. And of course He wears sandals in this vision, because everything we acquaint with the Almighty always has to adhere to the clothing and customs of the Middle East. But then, God existed long before Israel did, so I wonder if He had some kind of different, unique, funky style until He became such good friends with Abraham and Moses, and then did they affect Him so much that they actually changed his choice of fashion? What are we going to do if we get to heaven and the Father is rocking some Adidas? Maybe He changes it up all the time: a little Nike here, some flip flops there, an occasional Dutch wooden clog. I told you my mind goes to weird places sometimes.

While I certainly do jest (sort of), there is a very real concept here that I think deserves some attention. God DOES look like something. He DOES have a form and a body (of some sort). We can conjecture all we want, and paint as many pictures of old men with beards sitting on clouds, but the fact remains that God is real, and as such, has a form and shape. And I just can’t believe that I’m the only one out here who has wondered why in the world He doesn’t just show Himself.

One of the great frustrations for me as a Christian (as well as a filmmaker) is the fact that I have to try to convince people to fall in love and believe in someone who is…well…invisible. When I was having my own personal spiritual crisis in my 20s, wondering if God was even real at all and if so, why this Christianity He created was so boring and lame (just go to church, be a good person, and believe the right things? Really? That’s it?), I would often ask Him to show Himself. Give me five seconds, that’s all I needed for a lifetime of devoted service. Just a quick glimpse, even if it’s just one of those sandaled feet of Yours. But of course I’d stare at nothing and sink deeper into my existential despair.

But then I started making these movies about God, and I started seeing Him move on people right before my eyes, and I would see impossible things happen to people as if, well, as if an invisible person walked up to them and did something to them. As I saw more and more evidence of Him, I thought about seeing Him physically less and less. As I became better friends with Him, I started to understand His personality more, His character, and the need to see with my physical eyes waned. It hasn’t totally left, but it isn’t front and center like it used to be.

But until recently, I never stopped wondering why it has to be this way. Why does God choose to remain invisible? The whole world would believe if, just for a few seconds, He revealed Himself to everyone. Imagine how much suffering, how many bad choices and prodigal stories could be avoided with a simple pulling back of the divine invisibility cloak. Why not just do it then?
The answer, I think, lies in the one time in all of history that He actually DID do this…

Crazy Favor

Aside from the garden of Eden, when God walked in the flesh with Adam and Eve in the cool of the day and (probably) told them jokes, there is one instance in the Bible when God revealed His true form. Something like this is only reserved for the closest and dearest of friends, and while David gets the prize for being the man after God’s heart in the Bible, Moses gets to be God’s best friend.

In Exodus 33:18-23, there is a peculiar and thrilling narrative where one man finds Himself in the peculiar position of, in a sense, finding God in a really good mood towards him, and in return, he goes for broke and asks for the moon.
If you recall, the Israelites have just committed the whole golden calf sin, and Moses has interceded with God to spare them. Yes, they’re morons, he tells God, but they’re Your morons. God relents on account of Moses, and then makes this remarkable statement:

“This very thing I will do, because you have found favor in My sight and I know you by name.” (vs. 17)

Let’s go into this scene, shall we?

God is angry going into this conversation. There’s no bones about it, He’s ready to slaughter this “stiff necked people” and start all over again with Moses as the new Abraham. Moses, in a sense, calms God down (before you get angry and write me a nasty email admonishing me for writing that, remember, this is Old Covenant here, and Jesus’ death has permanently calmed God down). And now they’re having a good old fashioned love fest together. God tells Moses, essentially, that he’s His favorite, and that they’re good friends (I know you by name). And this is where sometimes reading these stories in the Bible without imagination can kind of ruin the richness of these events. Typically we read that, then move onto the next verse, which, in my opinion, feels a little out of place.

“And Moses said, “Show me Your glory.” (vs. 18)

On the surface, we read it and move on. But enter the scene, and really think about what is happening here, and it blows your mind (at least it blows mine). God is mad. He’s just gone out on a limb and chosen this crew as His special kids, He does all this incredible stuff for them, makes all kinds of promises to them–not for anything they’ve done, but just because they’re them, and they return the favor by worshiping a statue. It would be the equivalent of me going above and beyond to bless my kids, even when they’ve been pretty rotten and don’t deserve it, and they take my blessing, walk outside, and thank a tree.

But Moses pleads with God to have mercy when mercy has not been earned, and God, because He is slow to anger and rich in mercy, affirms Moses’ plea. He listens to him because Moses is a friend.

I can just see this scene playing out, and I put myself in Moses’ shoes at that moment. It has to be a momentous situation. The God of the Universe has just listened to you and has just opened His heart to you. There’s a lot of goodwill happening here, and Moses must have realized that He’s never going to have a chance as good as this again. He’s heard the “voice”, but he’s never seen the speaker. So he goes for broke and blurts out the Biblical equivalent to, “Can I please see what you look like?”

It’s the question every human in history who has believed in God has thought at some point or another. What does God look like? And here Moses steps out on a limb and just goes for it. And what does God do? He says yes! Of course, He tells Moses that he can’t see His face, because if he did that Moses would certainly die (apparently pure goodness would make your head explode). But beyond that limitation, this is interesting if not for the mere fact that it proves beyond a doubt that God actually HAS a face! He actually looks like something.

God tells Moses he can see His back. Then He tells him that “where I am standing there is a cleft in a rock, and I’ll put you in there then pass by you so you can see my back, and I will speak my name to you.” (Exodus 33:22) This reveals two interesting points about God:

1) He apparently can exist in a particular spot. I believe He is everywhere and in everything, but at the same time, in some way, He can BE somewhere in particular.

2) Not only does He give Moses what he asks for, but He gives him MORE than he asks for! Moses never asked God to speak His name, but God does it anyway. Most likely it is because God’s glory does not just reside in His person, but also in His voice, which is law when spoken, as well as His name, which defines and represents Him. And of course, the true heart of God is always to give to us abundantly beyond what we even ask for.

We know the rest of the story. God passes by, give Moses a little speech about how amazingly patient yet devoted to righteousness He is, then he shows Moses His back. They chat some more, God gives Moses more of the law, and then Moses heads down the mountain back to the people.

Of course, when he arrives back home, everyone freaks out because Moses’ face is shining. They make him put a veil over his face because…well…because why? Was it scary? Was it too disconcerting? Did it hurt their eyes? The Bible is never really clear on what the Israelites’ problem was with Moses glowing face, but that’s not really the point here. The point is the very reason why God MUST remain invisible.

If just seeing God’s back caused a man’s face to glow and an entire people group to become so uncomfortable that they made him cover it up, imagine what would happen if God showed Himself in any real, physical way. God is so powerful and so irresistible that if He did show Himself, we would be powerless to not bow to Him and worship Him. But God is not looking for people who are so impressed by His physicality that they reflexively bow to Him. He is looking for relationship in the deepest sense of the word. While it makes things infinitely harder for Him to woo us and draw us to His heart, He realizes that invisibility is the only way to make sure that our love for Him is genuine and wholly our choice. Once He reveals Himself, the whole world will bow before Him, and the gig is up (Isaiah 45:23). But until that day, He’s going to dedicate His entire existence to trying to get you to fall in love with someone you can’t see.

So why must God remain invisible? The answer is simple. Love. It is another side to His character that should impress even the most jaded heart. While showing Himself would speed everything up and make a relationship inevitable, God chooses to do it the hard way so that you and I have the right of refusal. He’s not going to force Himself on anyone, because that goes against everything that love is.

But the one guy in history who got to peek behind the curtain only did so because he had a relationship with the Almighty in a way no one else ever has. God does not honor your service to Him as much as He honors your relationship with Him.

Too often, though, we think it’s the other way around.

Chapter 2
Creation And Kisses

As a storyteller, I am acutely aware of the importance of a good beginning. If you don’t start your story off with a bang you’re in big trouble because more than likely your audience is not going to have the patience to stick with you. There is also a level of trust implicit in all beginnings, and it is up to the author to create that bond of trust with his audience. Look at it as a kind of non-verbal contract where you are promising your reader that 1) you know what you’re doing; and, 2) you’re about to take them on a fun ride.

I have always been fascinated with the book of Genesis, simply because there are so many “firsts” there, and it’s also chock full of amazing stories and characters. God is establishing the scene for us, but He’s also jumping right out of the gate with stories that are gripping and exciting.

If all great stories need to start off with a bang, God, as usual, shows all of us mere mortals how it’s supposed to be done. Like a seasoned rocker who wants to show all the upstarts what real rock n’ roll sounds like, He starts His story with the biggest bang imaginable. The Big Bang. Literally. He speaks and BANG, the creation of the Universe. The fact that the Universe is constantly expanding at an ever increasing rate of speed not only defies the laws of physics, but is a testament to the fact that God’s voice from the very beginning continues to echo through space and time, and it carries a very big stick. As for the increase in speed? I’m no physicist, but from the looks of things I think we can fairly safely say that when God says something, it not only gets things done, but it also carries a little something called momentum. So don’t be surprised when God works through you and it continues to grow bigger and more wonderful and sometimes faster than you ever dreamed. It’s just God’s momentum. He’s like a steam train picking up speed, and He’s unstoppable. This aspect of His character is built in to the very fabric of the Universe.

So God decides to begin His story with the creation of the world. Not a bad start. But when we take a closer look at some of the “firsts” of His book, they are both descriptive and revealing of the nature and character of God.

A Creative God

“In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.” – Genesis 1:1

Understand, this is the first line from God to humanity, the first thing He’s going to reveal of Himself to the world. So we can assume that He put a lot of thought into this–His introduction. I find it fascinating that the first thing He decides to tell us about Himself is NOT that He is a God of love. Or covenant. Or goodness. Or forgiveness. Or patience. Or grace. All of that is soon to come, and in fact, the rest of the book takes great pains to show us those aspects of Himself in detail. But for some reason, the first thing God wants us to know about Him is that He’s…creative.

Created. It’s the fifth word in the Bible, and the first word of any real substance (aside from God’s name, of course). This is the opening shot across the storytelling bow, and right off the bat God keeps us on our toes by focusing on an aspect of Himself that is often overlooked on Sunday mornings. God is creative. In fact, God is creativity itself. Why does He start His book with this? The answer, I believe, goes to the very heart of His hopes for us as individuals, as well as His collective Body.

As we will see throughout God’s book, He is wildly creative in the ways He goes about His business. In the person of Jesus, we see this creativity constantly in action. He’s always taking people by surprise, always using creative stories to illustrate His point, and He rarely heals anyone the same way twice. One blind man gets spit on, another is simply told he’s healed. We often try to take these creative acts and turn them into formulas for healing and ministry. I understand the concept–if this is the way Jesus did stuff, then how can you go wrong by copying the master? (I’m still waiting to hear about a “spit ministry” though) The problem, though, is that if God is creativity incarnate, then by His very nature He cannot be placed into a formula. There is no 5-step program to getting God to show up or listen to you. He’s not a caged animal to be brought out by the beating of drums or the playing of flutes. He’s a wild lion here, a meek and quiet lamb there. He’s an eagle one time, a gazelle the next. By showing us at the very start that He is creative, God is trying to tell us that He cannot be put in a box.

But of course, the church has been trying to do just that for quite some time now.

A God in a box is much easier to deal with than one who is wild and unchained. We can understand a captive God, and most importantly, we can CONTROL Him. But God cannot and will not be caged, controlled, or boxed in. We can try all we want, but as soon as we do, God, in essence, high tails it out of there. He wants no part of captivity. So we continue with our rituals, continue with our formulaic Christianity, all the while thinking that God is pleased with us; that He is just loving the fact that we are the chosen ones and we understand Him and are putting on such a fine show for Him. Unfortunately, we’re usually the last ones to realize that God left the building a long time ago.

When you remove the ability for God to be creative in the church, you are left with religion. Religion in its most grotesque form is a system built upon principles, rules, and empty theology, but the heart has been ripped out. It’s like zombie church. We’re walking around, interacting with people, doing “churchy” things, but we’re stiff and stale and not particularly pleasing to others. In fact, most people run from us when we’re doing zombie church. Zombie churches don’t attract people, they simply live to survive.

We know it is possible to “do church” without heart, as the writer of Revelation admonishes the church in Revelation 2:3-4, “You have persevered and have endured many hardships for my name, and have not grown weary. Yet I hold this against you: You have forsaken the love you had at first. Consider how far you have fallen!” Here God is saying, in no uncertain terms, that no matter how good your intentions are, no matter how much you endure and how hard you work for the kingdom, if you don’t operate the way He wants you to operate (ie, abounding in Love) then He’s actually going to hold that against you!
Then, of course, we have the famous admonition to the church in Leodicea in Rev 3:14-22. This is where God tells us that if we’re lukewarm He will spit us out of His mouth. You only spit stuff out that you don’t want to be a part of you anymore. God doesn’t sugarcoat it—if you try to peg Him as being this way and only this way, and if you’re more interested in playing church than you are in Him and His kids, then He’s going to have to move on from you (not personally, but corporately). You have probably heard of the term “a dead church”. This (a church focused on activity over relationship) is one of the main reasons for that deadness. As the lead singer of U2, Bono, once said, “Religion is what’s left when the spirit leaves the building.”

The Breath of God

“Then the Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into him the breath of life, and the man became a living being.” – Genesis 2:7

Returning to our Story, as God is creating the world, He does so by simply speaking things into existence. When God speaks, His words become law. Nothing in the Universe can undo His word because the entire Universe was created by His word, which makes it subject to His word. But when it comes time to create man, oddly enough God takes a different approach. Instead of simply saying, “Let there be man,” which seems logical given His track record of creation up to this point, He now gets on His hands and knees and scoops up a pile of dirt and forms man as a potter would from clay. It is as if God is intentionally telling us that even amidst the glories of His Universe, we are the thing He took the most time with, and therefore we are His prized possessions.

What happens next, though, changes the whole game. As I just mentioned, up until now God is speaking things into existence. It would make sense, then, that after creating Adam, He would simply speak the word, “Live,” and Adam would begin breathing. Again, Adam’s body would have had to obey God’s command, and His heart would have started beating and his brain would have started functioning. But God apparently had something else in mind with this creation of His, and I think He also wanted to show us His overall intentions right from the start.

Genesis tells us that God “breathed the breath of life” into Adam. In essence, He breathed part of Himself into us, and at this point, remember, the only thing we know about Him is that He is creative. This means that if you are breathing right now, you too are a creative being. Don’t forget, this is one of the major things that separates us from the animals.

But even more profound than Him breathing Himself into us is the mere fact that He chose to breathe anything into us at all. Think about it: what is the only way you can breathe your breath into someone? Your lips must touch their lips.

God’s first act towards man was a kiss.

Lest there be any mistaking God’s intentions with us, lest we forget that the thing He desires above all else with us is relationship, we must only look at this first act that is loaded with symbolism. If it isn’t enough that He would get His hands dirty shaping us into existence, that He would then stoop to our level and place His pure, holy lips upon ours so that we might have a piece of Him inside of us, whether we believe in Him or not, is heartbreakingly beautiful.

But it doesn’t stop there.

Ignition

“God blessed them and said to them, “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it.” – Genesis 1:28

Next we see God’s first words to man. This is it, the moment of truth. I can just see Adam and Eve standing there, naked, holding hands as their Creator settles in to speak to them for the first time. The nervous energy crackling in the air–the aroma of God’s love pouring over them. What was He going to say? What was He going to do?

“Be fruitful, multiply, and subdue the earth.”

The first sentence to man. On the surface, it may seem like a letdown. That’s it? A weird, vague command? Yet in reality, this statement is dripping with meaning.

God is far too intelligent to overlook even the tiniest detail, and we can therefore assume that the order of His words carries a message as well. I don’t think it was by random chance that He chose to say “Be fruitful” first, followed by “multiply and subdue” next. I think God understood all too well the people He had just created. We would get the second and third parts of His first sentence quite well, thank you very much. Sex and power. We’re on it, Captain. Those are orders we can happily follow.

But “be fruitful”? I think He may have said that first because it was dearest to His heart for us. While we as a race may care most about sex and power, He cares most about our fruitfulness; our sense of meaning in the world. He wants us to strive for excellence, to use our time well, to be intentional with our gifts, not so much for His and His kingdom’s sake, but for our sake! What we do on this earth means something to Him. It should therefore mean something to us as well.

But God is not done teaching us through His interactions with Adam, not by a long shot, because what comes next takes that whole notion of fruitfulness and gives it an injection of righteous steroids.

Time To Go To Work

“Now the Lord God had formed out of the ground all the wild animals and all the birds in the sky. He brought them to the man to see what he would name them; and whatever the man called each living creature, that was its name.” – Genesis 2:19

God has created man, He has breathed life into him, and that life carries the essence of His creativity. So it is only natural for God to then want to take His new creation out for a test drive. Which brings about the first job given to man. Give all the animals on earth a name.

Man’s first assignment is a creative one. God is showing all of us that we are not created primarily to plow the fields or build shelters or tend the flocks, nor are we even created primarily to do His bidding. We are free agents right from the start, and He hands us the wheel of His new creation and tells us to take it for a spin. He passes the creative buck of naming all the animals onto us. This shows both God’s immense humility as well as His trust in our abilities.

But He ups the ante again with Genesis 2:19, when “He brought all the animals to Adam to see what he would name them, and whatever he named them, that was its name.”

The implications here are profound. For one, our words carry weight with God. He pays attention to what we say and what we proclaim. It’s why Jesus tells us in James 3:2 that a man who can tame his tongue is perfect. Our mouths are our biggest asset as well as our greatest enemy. We can bless or curse, and the reason for that is because God cares about what we say and He has given us an amazing and dangerous authority over His creation and each other (more on that later).

But even more than that is the statement, “to see what he would name them.” You can just see Him leaning forward, curiosity piqued, a smile spreading across His face as Adam takes a deep breath and dives in. But it also implies something that should free us all up in our quest for fruitfulness. God is showing here that He is interested in what Adam is about to do.

Which means that He derived pleasure from Adam’s creative act.

Which means that He derives pleasure from our creative acts.

Which makes our creative acts…worship.

God Giggles?

“God walked with them in the cool of the day.” – Genesis 3:8

Maybe it’s the strange way my brain works, but to me, this is one of the coolest sentences in the Bible. I’m not sure how important it is in the grand scheme of things, but then again, this book is about uncovering some of the smaller details peppered throughout the Bible that reveal aspects of God’s character, and this one is a perfect example.

First, the obvious. Not until Jesus shows up on the scene will God again so openly and brazenly walk on the earth in our midst. Who knows if He still does it on his own, out in the wild somewhere, just for old time’s sake. But it’s probably best for us not to conjecture too much on that and turn God into some kind of holy Sasquatch. No, I’m more interested in what this says about God’s character and the kind of relationship He desires with us.

We all know that the pre-fall Garden of Eden was the way God had INTENDED His creation to be. No death, apparently (meaning no steak–a serious flaw in the system if you ask me), and this curious little admission on God’s part. He used to walk with Adam and Eve in the cool of the day. The God of the Universe took human form and came down to just hang out with Adam and Eve. Who knows what kinds of conversations they had. Maybe He was teaching them biology. About the cosmos. Algebra. The way His world works. Maybe He had to explain the birds and the bees to them. Maybe He just listened to them. Maybe He told them jokes.

I have to stop here and tell you a story. If you’ve seen my film, Father of Lights, you’ve met my friend Ravi, who has one of the most unique gifts I’ve ever encountered. He hears the audible voice of God everyday. I mean it, audible. He wakes up and God tells Him who he’s going to meet that day and what he’s supposed to say to them. Sometimes He gives Ravi GPS turn-by-turn directions somewhere to save a lost or kidnapped child. Ravi has a million stories of crazy stuff God has asked him to do, but this particular story bears retelling because it shows exactly why God gave Ravi this gift and not someone as simple minded and moronic as me.

I was filming with Ravi in India for Father of Lights, and we were driving somewhere–I don’t remember the particulars. But Ravi is my friend, so I feel comfortable enough with him to ask him stupid questions all the time. I mean, how many people am I going to meet who have audible conversations with God everyday? So, my mind going to its usual strange place, I asked him…
“Hey Ravi, is God like, super serious all the time?”

“Well, He’s very funny, but when He’s talking business, He’s all business.”

“He ever told you a joke?”

Ravi laughed. I’m pretty sure no one had ever asked him that one before.

“No, sir.”

“You should ask God to tell you a joke.”

Ravi laughed some more.

“I’m serious! Can you imagine what a joke from God would be like? It would have to be the funniest joke in the history of the world!”

Ravi continued laughing. Then he thought for a moment.

“You know what, I think I will ask Him to tell me a joke.”

“You serious?”

“Yes. I will ask Him the next time we talk.”

At this point, I’m feeling quite pleased with myself. And secretly, I can’t wait to hear this joke. Of course, I’m not expecting God to ACTUALLY tell Ravi a joke, but even the thought of him asking God for a joke strikes me as hilarious.

A few days go by and, if you’ve seen my movie Father of Lights, you know, a lot of crazy stuff goes down. Towards the end of our time together I asked Ravi if he’s asked God for that joke yet. He tells me he keeps forgetting. Every time God talks to him it’s all business. It’s enough for Ravi to simply try to remember everything God is telling him.
So I head back home to Chicago, and every few days I email Ravi to see if he’s asked God for a joke. He keeps telling me no, he hasn’t had the chance to bring it up. I get busy with life again, and a few weeks go by. I finally remember that I haven’t asked Ravi in a while about the joke, so I message him again. This time he tells me that actually, yes, he did ask God for a joke.

And?

He told Ravi one.

And!?

Ravi isn’t going to tell me the joke.

I could have punched my computer screen. I begged, I pleaded, but to no avail. Ravi refused to tell me the joke.

I asked him if it was at least funny.

He said yes…kind of.

At this point, my curiosity is piqued to the boiling point, and I will never let this die until I find out what that joke was. So our good mutual friend, Will Hart (who I filmed with in Furious Love), told me a few months later that he was heading over to India to see Ravi. I told him the story and instructed him that he HAD to get Ravi to tell him the joke. He promised to get it out of him (he’s known Ravi much longer than me).

When Will returned, I called him immediately to find out about the joke.

“Wilson, he’s not going to tell you that joke.”

“Why not!?”

“I don’t know, but he wouldn’t even tell me. I have no idea what his problem is.”

More months go by, and Ravi comes to visit me in Chicago. Now I’ve got him cornered. I’m like a rabid dog, hell bent on prying this stupid joke out of my friend. It’s no longer simple curiosity driving me, but raving madness.

“Ravi, you have to tell me the joke.”

“I cannot tell you the joke, sir.”

“But it’s my joke! You wouldn’t have even asked for it if I hadn’t told you to. If anyone on earth deserves to hear this joke, it’s me!”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

And that’s when I start to get an inkling as to why he won’t tell this to me.

“Well,” Ravi starts to say, a little warily, “I asked Him, and He kind of laughed…”

“He laughed?”

“Well, it was kind of a giggle.”

“God giggles?”

“Yeah, like a cross between a laugh and a giggle. I could tell He thought the idea was funny. So He was quiet for a moment, then He starts telling me a joke. It starts off really funny, and I’m laughing. It was a story joke, you know? But as He’s telling the story, it keeps getting more and more funny, and I’m laughing out loud. But then it gets to the punchline and…”

“Yeah?”

“And I realized it was a joke about me.”

I stared at him for a moment. Have to admit, I wasn’t expecting that. So God tells Ravi a joke, but it’s a joke about Ravi. And then I understood why he wasn’t ever going to tell me the joke. Ravi is an intensely private person, and he knew that if he ever told me the joke that I’d probably wind up putting it in one of my books (which I would–and in fact, did), and the last thing this humble, private man wanted was for the whole world to read the one recorded joke told by God in human history, and he’s the punchline.

This also shows the genius of God. He granted my request, but in such a way as to make sure the joke He told never saw the light of day. It was a personal moment between two friends, and it was intended to stay that way. While I’m disappointed that I may never know what the joke was, there’s a big part of me that is more than a little satisfied to know that the God I love and serve actually told a joke.

And that I made Him giggle.

So what’s the point of all this? When looking at God’s character as displayed through His creation of the world and His first interactions with the men and women He created, we can understand that the God of the Bible, from the very beginning, has been a God who desires relationship with us. He is not an absentee landlord, nor is He some distant deity up in the sky somewhere, looking down at this world with cold, clinical fascination. He is a God who desires to walk with us in the cool of the day; who’s first act towards us was a kiss; who sees us as more than just worker bees; and who is far more relatable than we often give Him credit for. In essence, He is a God who, if nothing else, shows us right from the start that He actually HAS a character; He HAS a personality.

And it is my life’s goal, and the point of this entire book, to attempt to uncover just a fraction of that amazing, wonderful, and surprising character of God.