Scott became a Christian while in college, but he consistently lived under a dark cloud of guilt over his past sins. As a teenager, he was involved in sexual immorality. After he trusted Christ, he changed his lifestyle because he knew immorality was wrong according to Scripture. But he could not escape the sense that God still condemned him for his past sin. He felt like a second-class Christian; he felt that God would never trust him with anything important to do because of his teenage promiscuity. As a result he felt defeated most of the time.
Scott knew in his mind that God had forgiven him. He had read Romans 8:1: “There is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus.” But his lingering false sense of guilt distorted his view of God’s grace and kept him trapped in a cycle of self-condemnation. Many of us read the Bible through a distorted lens of past experiences. Things we have done or relationships we have had, especially with family members, play a critical role in shaping our view of ourselves and our life.
Medical research has established that we are biologically “hardwired” to connect with others—starting, of course, with our parents. The research has led to the development of what is known as attachment theory. The concept behind this theory is that we were born with the need to make secure attachments with others. We will inevitably make attachments, and if we can’t make secure attachments, we make insecure ones—even if they negatively affect our lives.
Mark Matlock, president of WisdomWorks Ministries, wrote about the attachment theory in my (Sean’s) book Apologetics for a New Generation. He said,
Dr. Todd Hall at Rosemead School of Psychology has done some interesting work applying the attachment theory to our relationship with God. If insecure human attachments keep us from healthy connections with others, couldn’t they keep us from connecting with God as well? 1
Experience has shown that to be the case—our perception of God is colored by our child-parent relationship, especially the relationship with a father.
How you related to your parents and they with you has no doubt greatly influenced your perception of God.
Many people have wondered why our current generation is falling away from the faith and not embracing the values of their families. In his book Faith of the Fatherless: The Psychology of Atheism, psychologist Paul Vitz shows that the great atheists of the past almost without exception had distant, dead, or harsh fathers. He calls this “the theory of the defective father.”2 According to Vitz, once a child loses respect for his or her earthly father, then belief in a heavenly father is greatly impaired. Vitz supports his case by pointing to the lives of prominent atheists such as Sigmund Freud, Jean-Paul Sartre, Karl Marx, Bertrand Russell, Madalyn Murray O’Hair, Friedrich Nietzsche, and many more. Vitz does not present these examples as arguments for theism. Rather, he simply shows how psychological factors, especially the relationship with the father, influence our view about God.
So how you related to your parents and they with you has no doubt greatly influenced your perception of God. For example, if you grew up with authoritarian parents and felt their disapproval or felt relationally distant from them, you will likely tend to project those feelings into your relationship with God. You will naturally bring that distorted lens to your reading of Scripture, causing you to see him as an authoritarian, disapproving figure.
During the Passover meal, often referred to as the Last Supper, Jesus shared many things with his disciples. One of those things is found in John 14, when Jesus said, “If you love Me, you will keep My commandments” (John 14:15 NASB).
Now imagine yourself seated across the table from Jesus there in the upper room. He looks your way, and you make eye contact with the Master as he says, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” What would be your response to his statement? What would go on in your mind as to the reason he would be saying these words to you?
A person like Scott would probably hear Jesus’ words through his feelings of false guilt. In his mind’s eye he would see Jesus crossing his arms and shaking his head saying, “If you really loved me you would have kept my commandments all along. Your failings before and even now speak volumes. Scott, you are such a disappointment to me.”
What do you hear in Jesus’ voice as he makes his statement about love and commandments? If you sense his disappointment as Scott does, you might compensate by working harder at performing for God in hopes of feeling worthy of his love. Problem is, none of us can live the Christian life perfectly. If we sense a disappointed God in Scripture we will tend to see his love as a meritorious reward for good performance. This will often cause us to see only the “thou shalt nots” of the Bible and miss its many promises. This view sets up our emotions to feel, I must do right to be loved right. And invariably this perception will permeate all our relationships.
Performance-driven people sometimes tend to use their own fear of being a disappointment as a form of coercion to motivate others. They expect from others the same kind of performance they demand of themselves, and when others fail to give it, they communicate to those others the same disappointment they feel hovering over them. As a result, friends and family begin to feel that “nothing is ever good enough for him or her.” This behavior does nothing but perpetuate the misconception that loving someone is intrinsically attached to how he or she performs.
When Jesus says, “If you love me you will keep my commandments” do you see him raising his eyebrows and stressing the first word? Do you hear a questioning tone in his voice as if his statement is really something of a warning: “Do you know that I’m watching you to see if you keep my commandments?”
Some see God in just this way—as an inspector who is grading us on how well we follow the directives in the Bible. Is that the kind of God you see? One who stands over you with a pad and pencil, keeping a running tally of all your deeds, both good and bad? Like a celestial Santa Claus he’s “making a list, checking it twice, gonna find out who’s naughty or nice.” It’s hard to imagine a God such as this celebrating who you are or being happy to commune with you in prayer. His scrutinizing, inspecting eye would sap the joy out of the relationship.
If we see God as such an inspector we might tend to take even the slightest corrective suggestion from others as a personal attack and become defensive. We may also be prone to take on the role of inspector ourselves and suspiciously monitor the behavior of others. We might make big deals out of minor biblical issues. As you can imagine, people find it difficult to enjoy the fellowship of someone who keeps them under scrutiny and records any deviation from the letter of the law.
Do you see Jesus raising his hand somewhat absentmindedly with his head down and in an indifferent voice say something like, “Oh, by the way, if you love me you might think about keeping some of my commandments and stuff…whatever.” This kind of God might have time to talk to only the “important people” who are doing the “important things” in life. And you probably don’t qualify.
Many people, especially today’s young people, have experienced absentee parents. Mom and Dad were somewhere in their growing-up years but not caringly involved in their lives. And consequently they project this distant parental relationship on their relationship with God.
David Ferguson shares his and his wife’s early concept of God.
For many years I struggled with a god who inspected and was often disappointed in my life. My wife, Theresa, came to view God as distant. She noted one day that “it was hard for me to imagine that God even noticed when I woke up in the morning. I was never convinced that he truly knew me or cared what was important to me. I saw God as someone who only had time for the ‘big stuff’ of this world, and I certainly wasn’t included. This distant god was hard to get to know or trust, and seemed disinterested in knowing me.”3
This distant view of God will affect what we believe he has in store for us. His promises would obviously not be for us. He is powerful, but his power wouldn’t be available to us. A distant God has little relevance to our lives.
Back when I (Sean) was in college a few Christian friends invited me to their Bible study group. As a single college student I wanted to develop the discipline of getting into God’s Word with my fellow classmates. But what struck me was the lens through which a couple of my buddies read practically every verse. They always seemed to have at least three questions they had to ask about each passage:
1. What sin here needs to be avoided? (Because an inspecting God is watching.)
2. What commandment here needs to be obeyed? (Because an inspecting God is keeping track.)
3. What part of my life needs to be changed? (Because a disappointed God requires perfect performance.)
It is not that we shouldn’t avoid sin or understand what biblical commands we need to obey. But when we view God’s Word through the lens of a disappointed, inspecting, or distant God we distort his truth. Paul prayed for the Christ-followers in Ephesus. He prayed that God would “give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know [Jesus] better…that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you” (Ephesians 1:17–18 NIV).
In verse 17 of this passage, the word for “wisdom” in the Greek is ophia, which is wisdom in spiritual truth providing insight into the true nature of things. The word “revelation” in the Greek is apokalupsis, meaning the uncovering or unveiling of the knowledge of God to the soul. In other words, when Paul prayed that the eyes of our hearts might be enlightened, he was asking God to peel back the distorted view we have of him and let us see the true nature of who Jesus is until it penetrates deep into our inner soul.
We can truly approach Scripture with this heartfelt prayer. God wants to open the eyes of our hearts to see him, the real God, for who he is. He wants to disabuse our minds and emotions of seeing a disappointed, inspecting, or distant God brought about by past or present unhealthy relationships. He wants his holy Word to purify, cleanse, and rectify any distortions we may have of him. And as we do we can experience him, the real God, as he meant us to experience him.
Paul said, “Accept each other just as Christ has accepted you; then God will be given glory” (Romans 15:7). This wording indicates that rather than being a disappointed or inspecting or distant God, he is an accepting God. But just how accepting is he?
The word translated “accept” here is the Greek word proslambano, or “receive.” It doesn’t refer to a casual reception of another. It carries with it the sense of receiving another person with a special and deep interest. It is a full embrace without reservations and conditions. It is an open-arms welcome.
To help get a clearer picture of Christlike acceptance let’s look at John 4, where Jesus meets the woman at the well. Scripture says Jesus “left Judea to return to Galilee. He had to go through Samaria on the way” (John 4:3–4). Jesus’ travel itinerary is the first indicator of how accepting he is.
A true follower of Judaism would not dignify the Samaritans—or pollute himself or herself—by even walking on their soil.
Reality was, Jesus didn’t have to go through Samaria to get to Galilee. The “devoted” Jews of the day would never go through Samaria to get to Galilee from Judea. Galilee was due north of Judea, and Samaria was right in the middle. So a Jewish person would either travel around that region by going east to Jericho then following the Jordan Valley north, or they could travel by boat west of the area via the Mediterranean Sea. Whatever the case, a strict Jewish person would consider the longer journey around well worth it.
Samaria had a long history of tension with Judea. In Jesus’ day Jews considered Samaritans “half-breeds.” They didn’t believe they had the right pedigree (pure bloodline), so they wanted nothing to do with them. Additionally, Samaritans claimed that Mount Gerizim was the proper place to worship, while the Jews insisted that authentic worship could take place only in Jerusalem. In effect, Jews considered Samaritans heretics. So a true follower of Judaism would not dignify the Samaritans—or pollute himself or herself—by even walking on their soil.
Obviously, Jesus’ feelings toward the Samaritans were different. He made his journey right through the middle of Samaria until he came to Sychar, “and Jesus, tired from the long walk, sat wearily beside the well [Jacob’s well] about noontime” (John 4:6).
This was an arid and dry land. Water was a precious commodity. People would come to this well in the morning before the day heated up or in the cool of the evening. Few would come at noontime. Anyone foolish enough to be gathering water at this time of day probably was trying to avoid being seen by the townspeople.
Jesus was no doubt sitting near the well. He was alone, waiting on his disciples who had gone into town to buy food. Then along came a Samaritan woman to draw water from the well. Not expecting to see anyone, she probably began to draw water and didn’t even see Jesus. Startled by the voice behind her she heard a man say, “Please give me a drink” (verse 7).
The woman’s response is significant: “You are a Jew, and I am a Samaritan woman. Why are you asking me for a drink?” (verse 9). This woman was shocked on two levels. First, this was a man who was talking to her. It was highly unusual for a man to speak to an unfamiliar woman. To do so was considered shameful, illicit and, at times, even scandalous. Notice in verse 27 that when the disciples showed up, “They were shocked to find him talking to a woman.” In that day, men with good intentions just didn’t talk to women who were strangers.
Secondly, Jewish men or women simply didn’t converse with the heretical Samaritans. So it’s clear the woman was taken aback by the very fact that he spoke to her. She must have thought, This is a different kind of man. Then notice what Jesus says: “If you only knew the gift God has for you and who you are speaking to, you would ask me, and I would give you living water” (verse 10).
Now he really had this woman confused. Not only did this man consider her worth talking to, he offered her an extraordinary gift. She knew the difference between “dead” and “living” water. “Living water” referred to moving water, like a fresh river or spring. “Dead water” was standing or stored water. Samaria had no rivers, so Jesus’ statement was confusing. If Jacob had had to dig a well there, how could this man be offering her fresh, superior water?
But naturally, if he could deliver on the fresh water, she was up for it. “Please, sir,” the woman said, “give me this water! Then I’ll never be thirsty again, and I won’t have to come here to get water” (verse 15).
Then the Master throws her a big curve. “ ‘Go and get your husband,’ Jesus told her” (verse 16). Of course he knew she had five previous husbands and the man she was now living with wasn’t her husband—and he told her that. Recognizing his prophetic skills, she switched the subject to who was worshipping correctly, Jews or Samaritans.
Something must have begun to dawn on her. This man was truly different. He had spoken to a strange woman, which was unusual. He was a Jewish man who spoke to a Samaritan, which was even more unusual. Then he offered to direct her to some unknown fresh water source. And that was truly extraordinary. On top of all of that, he knew more about her than probably a lot of her friends—what few she had left. This led her to inquire about spiritual things like worship and the Messiah.
So she stated her own belief: “ ‘I know the Messiah is coming—the one who is called Christ. When he comes, he will explain everything to us.’ ” Then Jesus revealed the truth of his relationship to her: “ ‘I am the Messiah!’ ” (verses 25–26). He was saying, “Yes, I may be a man, and I may be a Jewish man, but I’m really your Messiah, your deliverer, the one you have been longing for.” At that point her excitement was more than she could take, and she headed back to the village to spread the news of who she had met.
Let’s recap the extraordinarily different way in which this man named Jesus received this woman, and how she must have reasoned:
• I am a woman and he is a man. And he can see I’m the kind of woman that strange men have no business talking to. Why is he talking to me?
• He is a Jew, and Jews despise us Samaritans. What’s wrong with him?
• I am an adulterer, which makes it near impossible for even a decent man to interact with me, let alone the Holy Messiah. What is going on here?
This Samaritan woman had never encountered such a man—one who was so receptive, so open to her, so welcoming. She knew Jesus had no cause to accept her the way he did. Being an immoral woman she was rejected by most. She must have felt alienated and alone. But despite all that, this extraordinary Jesus received her with open arms.
His acceptance didn’t mean he condoned her adultery; he did not. Yet he didn’t show disappointment in who she was either. He still saw the beauty, the potential, and the innate worth and dignity God infused into every human by virtue of creation, and he loved her for it. Nor was he “Jesus the inspector,” even though she wasn’t worshipping correctly. He was the compassionate corrector, loving her enough to tell her the truth. And he certainly wasn’t a distant God, because he was visiting her in her own environment. Jesus’ acceptance of her had nothing to do with her own actions. Nothing she could say or do or not say or not do would cause the Messiah to take her in as he did, to show her such respect, and let her know she was so welcome in his presence. He accepted her as she was and gave her a vision of who she could be. That is the nature of the real God.
Now, that isn’t to say God simply overlooks our sin and in effect says, “That’s okay, everybody messes up. I’ll just forget your past sins.” The reality is that he by nature is holy. He can’t just overlook sin. The Bible says of him, “Your eyes are too pure to look on evil; you cannot tolerate wrong” (Habakkuk 1:13 NIV). God is so holy that he “cannot allow sin in any form” (Habakkuk 1:13 NLT). So what does he do?
Our sin, of course, has resulted in death—separation from God. And we are by no means acceptable to him in our sinful state. Add to that the fact we are unable to do anything to change our sinful and dead status, and it would appear we are doomed forever (see Romans 6:23 and Ephesians 2:1). But our plight is unacceptable to God. Why? Because he loves us and wants to restore us to a relationship with him. So he provides a redemptive plan of salvation.
“God saved you by his special favor when you believed,” Paul said. “And you can’t take credit for this; it is a gift from God. Salvation is not a reward for the good things we have done, so none of us can boast about it” (Ephesians 2:8–9 NLT). Even though his holiness cannot embrace our life of sin, his heart accepts us without condition. So despite our being sinners, he offers us grace. And it is that grace that cost him the life’s blood of his only Son. And because of that holy sacrifice he can welcome us regardless of who we are or what we’ve done. With open arms he says, “Come to me—I love you and will forgive you, not based on any of your efforts, but because of my Son’s atoning sacrifice and resurrection.”
When we realize that God knows us for who we are, including our faults, failures, and sin, it’s not easy to grasp that he is so accepting. But he is. Bill and Gloria Gaither nailed it when they wrote the song “I Am Loved.” In it we sing, “The one who knows me best loves me most.”4 The Jesus of the Bible is an accepting God.
Now, let’s go back to the upper room. You are again seated across from Jesus. Your eyes meet. This is your Savior, who sees you just the way you are and loves and accepts you beyond your wildest dreams. He tells you there are many rooms in his Father’s house and he is going to prepare a place for you. Then he makes you a promise—“I will come and get you, so that you will always be with me where I am” (John 14:3).
Jesus now explains that the works he has done were actually not of his own doing: It was the Father working through him. So he makes you another promise—“Anyone who believes in me will do the same works I have done” (John 14:12).
Lay aside your preconceived ideas of God based on your past relationships with others and allow Scripture to define the accepting Jesus, who loves you beyond belief.
He smiles reassuringly and gives you yet another promise—“You can ask for anything in my name, and I will do it” (John 14:13). None of these promises sound like they are coming from a disappointed or inspecting or distant Jesus, do they? They are coming from a Jesus who welcomes you and receives you with a full embrace without reservations or conditions. Then in a tender voice and with accepting eyes he makes you a final promise. Listen to his words as he extends his arms toward you and with a smile on his face says, “If you love Me, you will keep My commandments” (John 14:15 NASB).
This verse is a very special promise to you. It is meant to bring reassurance, security, and confidence to your heart. Listen to his promise in the next two verses: “And I will ask the Father and he will give you another Counselor, who will never leave you. He is the Holy Spirit, who leads into all truth” (John 14:16–17 NLT). Doesn’t this give you incredible confidence? He is in effect saying, “If you and I have a loving relationship, I promise I am not going to leave you alone to try to live the Christian life in your own strength. I’m going to take up residence in your life through the power and person of my Holy Spirit, and I will be there to empower you. Together we will become one—my nature will be your nature, my desires will become your desires, my ways will become your ways.”
This is the promise that comes to us from the accepting Jesus. And when we embrace his promise, his love becomes real to us. In fact, it is his transforming love that enables us to love him back so deeply and love each other as he loves us.
Lay aside your preconceived ideas of God based on your past relationships with others and allow Scripture to define the accepting Jesus, who loves you beyond belief. He loves you and every one of us in spite of our sin. And as stated earlier, he has mercifully provided atonement for sin at great cost to himself. He separates who we are from what we have done and loves us for who we are. Then he accepts—receives with welcoming arms—each of us at the point of our failure.
That is the God the Bible reveals—the real God. Receive his unconditional acceptance and experience freedom from false guilt and self-condemnation. Respond to the welcoming embrace of the Savior and rest in his secure arms. Reach out and grasp his promise and be infused with his Holy Spirit, who empowers you to live pleasing to him.
If we are to go beyond mere study of scriptural text and experience God’s truth, we must see Jesus for who he is—the real God who loves and accepts us without condition. He is there with outstretched arms, longing to lead us through his Word so we can know him more intimately. Seeing God through a lens other than the loving and accepting Jesus will distort his truth, and that truth will become irrelevant to our lives.
This is a basic prerequisite to correctly interpreting and experiencing God’s Word. It is a fundamental truth that must be in place in our lives in order to experience God’s book. We must accept the accepting Jesus. In the next two chapters we will build off this foundation stone—the foundation of an accepting Jesus—which will enable us to experience Scripture passages with God and with one another.
The following quote from David Ferguson brings a fitting close to this chapter:
The real Christ is attentive and caring, sensitive and compassionate. He does not have a tally sheet in heaven, and is not too preoccupied to care about each of us individually. He is not detached or distant, disappointed or displeased. The real Christ wants to be close, intimate friends with you and me. He is excited when we wake up in the morning, and cannot wait to talk with us. He is delighted to know us and be with us. He is pleased with you because he sees you with the eyes of a Master Creator, one who admires his handiwork and values you as his treasure because you are his very own child.5
“May you experience the love of Christ, though it is so great you will never fully understand it. Then you will be filled with the fullness of life and power that comes from God” (Ephesians 3:19 NLT).