These words come from the pen of a Jewish prophet named Malachi. As the last spokesman of the Old Testament, he raised a troubling question. How can we take comfort in the love of God if we don't feel loved? What if circumstances seem to say that God is ignoring us, that He has abandoned us to our own pain, and that He is deliberately withholding from us what He could so easily grant?
Malachi, a messenger to God's "chosen people," assures us that we are not the first to ask such questions. He gives us a chance to see why the love of God is one of the most misunderstood truths of the Bible.
Martin R. De Haan II
CONTENTS
What Do You Believe?
A Simple Way Of Looking At A Complex Subject
How Has God Loved Us?
Beyond Malachi
WHAT DO YOU BELIEVE ABOUT THE LOVE OF GOD?
* "I think He loves us unconditionally, whether we love Him or not."
* "I believe God loves us. But that doesn't mean I'm religious. The way I see it, if God loves us, what do we have to worry about?"
* "I want to believe God loves us. But that might be reading too much human emotion into Him."
* "I used to believe in a God of love. But some things have happened to me that I really don't want to talk about."
* "I think God loves us, but it's probably a different kind of love than we show for one another. I think He loves us in ways that we might not even recognize as love."
* "I believe God loves me. But I often have a hard time reconciling that with the way I'm feeling about myself."
The question has a history. Conflicting opinions about the love of God are more than a symptom of our times. Confusion about whether God cares about us can be traced all the way back to the closing days of the Old Testament. Even then, some of the most religious people in the world were wondering how they could believe in a God who said He loved them while acting as though He didn't. In about 450 BC, Malachi, the last of the Old Testament prophets, said to the people of Jerusalem, "'I have loved you,' says the Lord. But you ask, 'How have You loved us?'" (Mal. 1:2 NIV).
There were other questions as well. Malachi has come down to us as a two-way conversation between God and His "chosen nation." Eighteen times Malachi asked questions in behalf of God. Ten times he asked questions in behalf of his Jewish countrymen. Through the pen of Malachi, Israel answered God's questions with more of their own:
* How have You loved us? (1:2).
* How have we shown contempt for You? (1:6).
* How can You say we've defiled You? (1:7).
* Why don't You answer our prayers? (2:13-14).
* How have we wearied You? (2:17).
* Where is Your sense of fairness? (2:17).
* How do You expect us to return to You? (3:7).
* How have we robbed You? (3:8).
* What have we said against You? (3:13).
* What did we gain by serving You? (3:14).
Put these questions in another context. To see how amazing these questions are, put them in the mouth of a wife who after 50 years of marriage still isn't convinced that her husband loves her. Imagine overhearing one side of a telephone conversation where a 75-year-old woman says to her husband, "How can you say you have loved me? Is this the way a man loves his wife, by saying she has had contempt for him? How have I hurt you? You don't even pay attention to me anymore. I talk, but you don't listen. Then you say I'm the one who wore you down. Where is your sense of decency? How, after all that has gone on between us, could you expect me to have the affection I used to have for you? You say you love me, yet in the very same breath you accuse me of ruining your name and reputation. You call this love? I don't think so. I don't know what I've gained by living for these 50 years locked to the chains of your demands."
Israel, at the end of her Old Testament history, was talking like this woman. She had been married to YAHWEH for 1,000 years. Yet when told of God's love, she acted like she hadn't seen it.
Modern Jewish humor reflects the irony of a chosen people who have often felt unloved by God: "An old Jew prayed fervently in the synagogue, 'Lord, 4,000 years ago, on the slopes of Mount Sinai, You chose the Jews as a people peculiar to You, a holy people, a nation of priests, to bear the yoke of Your holy Law and to serve as witness to all the world. Lord, I am deeply sensible of the honor, but Lord, enough is enough. Surely it is time You chose somebody else" (Isaac Asimov's Treasury of Humor).
Gentiles have been known to pray a similar prayer: "Lord, if this is what it means to be loved by You, then please love someone else for a while."
Such prayers reflect our need for a clearer sense of what it means to be loved by God.
A SIMPLE WAY OF LOOKING AT A COMPLEX SUBJECT
The Bible says that God is love and that the whole of His law can be reduced to the principle of doing for others as we would want them to do for us (Mt. 22:37-39; Gal. 5:14). The Scriptures make it just as apparent, however, that there is profound complexity behind this simple principle.
Before taking a closer look at the questions and answers of Malachi, let's use a visual image to illustrate the simplicity and complexity of our subject. As a prism separates a simple shaft of light into a spectrum of colors, so the Scriptures separate the love of God into different shades of meaning.
God Loves In Different Ways. While the Bible says that God is love, it also shows us that He loves in different ways, in different degrees, and with different results. Until we carefully work through the principles and specific examples of His love, it can seem very confusing. For example, the Bible tells us that God loves impartially and without prejudice, but He also chose the nation of Israel to be the special object of His love. He loves in time, and He loves in eternity. Sometimes His love is tough, and sometimes it is tender. He loves some as they choose their way to heaven and others as they choose their way to hell.
To sort out such seemingly conflicting evidence, it is important for us to see some of the different ways God loves us.
God Loves Unconditionally. The Bible makes it clear that in so many ways, God loves us because of who He is rather than because of who we are. He offers to be our God not because we are lovable but because He is loving. He offers to care for us not because of our performance, our goodness, or even because of our effort or good intentions. He loves us because that's the kind of God He is.
This is the kind of unconditional love God showed the nation of Israel when He made them His "chosen people." He did not choose Abraham's family because they were deserving (Dt. 7:7; 9:4-6). He didn't choose them because of their numbers or because of their goodness. He chose them because it was within His right and power to use Abraham's descendants to tell the story of His love.
Many years later, a son of Israel taught His disciples to show one another the kind of unconditional love that God had shown them. This Teacher said:
You have heard that it was said, "You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy." But I say to you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven; for He makes His sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what reward have you? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? (Mt. 5:43-46).
We'll see more evidence of God's unilateral willingness to love us in pages 23-32 of this booklet. There we will see how God makes it possible for us to say that nothing can separate us from the love of God (Rom. 8:35-39). But for now it's important to understand that there is both an unconditional side to God's love as well as a conditional side.
God Loves Conditionally. Jesus reflected this side of God's love when He said to His disciples, "The Father Himself loves you, because you have loved Me, and have believed that I came forth from God" (Jn. 16:27). While caring for everyone, God has a special "family love" for those who believe in His Son. This love is a special love that goes beyond His affection for the whole world.
Years later, the apostle Paul wrote, "God loves a cheerful giver" (2 Cor. 9:7). Again, while God cares about the well-being of self-centered people, we must conclude that in some affectional ways He loves (or values) a generous person more than a tightfisted one.
If the different ways God loves are not considered, we might make the mistake of thinking that because He has been kind to us, He has unconditionally accepted us as His children. Or we might forget that His children can still act in ways that deepen His affections or arouse His anger.
God is a Person whose love must be understood in the richness and fullness of His whole personality. He is love. But He is not only love. He loves according to the counsel of His wisdom, His goodness, and His eternality. His love is not blind, or indulgent, or shortsighted. His love is tough, it's tender, it's on His terms rather than ours, and it's for the sake of His glory rather than our desires.
HOW HAS GOD LOVED US?
Keeping in mind that God loves us in a spectrum of ways, let's take a closer look at Malachi's answer to the question, "How has God loved us?"
God reminded the people of Jerusalem of something as obvious as their own national existence. After 70 years of exile in Babylon, they were back in their mother city. Even though they were not satisfied with the conditions of their life, God had not forgotten them. He had given them favor with the Persian conquerors of Babylon. He had brought them back to the homeland they loved.
The same could not be said for their cousins, the Edomites. While the descendants of Jacob had been given a land with cities they hadn't built, homes they hadn't filled, wells they hadn't dug, and vineyards and olive groves they hadn't planted (Dt. 6:10-12), the descendants of Jacob's twin brother Esau had the opposite experience. God put the Edomites under a national curse. He called attention to their pride and said that even if they built their homes in mountain fortresses, He would make their homes a wasteland (Mal. 1:4). Esau's descendants would try to get up, but God would knock them down.
To this day, the obvious physical contrast between the "mountain of Jacob" and the "mountain of Esau" is apparent. Even though the descendants of Esau built strongholds high in the cliffs of Sela (in Petra, which is 50 miles south of the Dead Sea), God made their cliff dwellings desolate - a striking evidence of His judgment (see Obad. 8-18).
The Lord's choice of Jacob over his twin brother Esau was not an expression of favoritism. God didn't indulge Israel like a spoiled child or give His people immunity from the consequences of their sins. With Israel's increased privilege came increased responsibility. No other nation would end up being known as the "people of the Holocaust."
God chose Israel not only to show the world the enviable condition of those who trust Him but also to show the desolation that comes to those who refuse His offer of love.
God's chosen people ended up asking, "How have You loved us?" Their question is a reminder that sometimes our need is not to have more knowledge but to pray that we don't miss the obvious.
Isaac Asimov tells a tongue-in-cheek account of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, author of the famous Sherlock Holmes stories. He says that Doyle once hailed a cab in Paris, threw his handbag inside, and climbed in after it. But before he could say a word, the driver said, "Where to, Mr. Conan Doyle?" "You recognize me?" said the author in surprise. "Not really. I've never seen a picture of you." "Then how do you know I am Conan Doyle?" "Well," said the driver, "I had read in the newspapers that you were on vacation in the south of France. I noticed you getting off a train that came from Marseille. I see you have the kind of tan that bespeaks a week or more in the sun. From the inkspot on your right middle finger, I deduce that you are a writer. You have the keen look of a medical man, and the cut of clothes of an Englishman. Putting it all together, I felt you must surely be Conan Doyle, the creator of the great detective, Sherlock Holmes." Conan Doyle burst out, "But you are yourself the equal of Sherlock Holmes since you recognized me from all these small observations." "There is," said the driver, "one additional fact. Your name is lettered on your handbag."
In the details of life, we can miss the obvious signature of love. In time, Israel forgot how loving God had been in making them His chosen people and the apple of His eye. So we too can forget that our very existence reflects the many obvious ways God has loved us.
In the days of Malachi, the quality of life was declining in Jerusalem. Marriages were in trouble (2:14-16). Crime was a problem (3:5). Parent-child relationships were deteriorating (4:6). Spiritual leaders lacked integrity (2:7-9). People needed encouragement and words of comfort.
Malachi did comfort them. But he also showed them that while the love of God is wonderful, it is not necessarily safe. God loves us enough to make an issue of our sin. He loves us enough to show us that many of our personal and social problems are the result of our own contempt for God.
Malachi was direct. He seemed willing to make cases of bad self-esteem worse. Rather than choosing the words that would help troubled people feel better about themselves, he seemed intent on creating feelings of guilt and regret.
Shouldn't an understanding of Israel's troubled times have prompted a man of God to offer words of encouragement and hope? The people of Israel must have longed for a soothing voice from heaven to calm their fearful hearts and to inspire courage in the face of profound spiritual disappointment.
But Malachi's love was a tough love. He cared enough to warn those who were arousing the patient anger of God. He exposed the hearts of those who thought they could fulfill their obligations to God by offering that which cost them nothing. He confronted the priests who were willing to accept offerings of the crippled and blind animals of Israel's flocks (Mal. 1:8).
That such sacrifices were not acceptable to God appears to have been a surprise to Malachi's countrymen. Sacrificing defective animals seemed to meet the needs of both religion and business. It cleansed the flocks of bad stock while still providing something to burn on the altar. They could give something to God without depriving their families or businesses in the process.
The prophet pointed out, however, that these worthless sacrifices were not about meat. They were about hearts. A blind ram offered as a sin sacrifice reflected the spiritual blindness of the offerer. A crippled animal indicated an owner's twisted walk. These imperfect sacrifices were about people who, because they didn't fear God, were also more likely to divorce their partners, ignore their children, embezzle money, or neglect a neighbor's need.
Israel didn't see it that way. When confronted with their contempt for God, they acted perplexed. "In what way have we despised Your name? . . . In what way have we defiled You?" (1:6-7).
What Israel had forgotten is that we cannot treat God as One who will take just anything we give Him. He is a jealous God who asks for first place in our hearts. Such loyalty has parallels. A wife who walks into a restaurant and finds her husband showing affection for another woman isn't apt to be satisfied to be just one of his partners. Neither is God satisfied to be just one of our loves.
When any two relationships compete with each other, one must lose. Jesus said, "No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or else he will be loyal to the one and despise the other" (Mt. 6:24).
Instinctively, we want it to be different. We want to believe that we can serve more than one at a time. We want to believe that we can juggle our way through life keeping all the balls in the air and all the plates spinning. But God loves us enough to show that we cannot have it all. There is a trade-off for every choice. It's impossible to add without subtracting. Everything we add to our lives occupies its own place in space and time.
God loves us enough to confront our lack of respect for Him. He is not threatened by our anger or veiled contempt. He would rather have us confront the truth about ourselves than to go on thinking that we are doing better than we really are.
Malachi's countrymen responded in a variety of ways. Some feared God. Others didn't. In the process, God loved them enough to let them choose their own way. He cared for them enough to give them freedom to decide their own destiny. Some chose the path of spiritual safety. Some shook off the prophet's message and brought great loss to themselves, their families, and the reputation of their God.
It's often assumed that if God loves us, He is the one person in life we don't have to worry about. In every generation, otherwise intelligent people lose their sense of reason when it comes to thinking about the love of God. They reason that if God loves us, He will be the Good Shepherd who loves us in spite of our actions toward Him. Bad things may happen for other reasons, they admit. But they cannot imagine that a loving God would ever let anything terrible happen as a result of what we believe or don't believe about Him.
But the last prophet of the Old Testament is like the last prophet of the New Testament. Both shake their readers out of romantic notions about the love of God. Both Malachi in the Old Testament and John in the New Testament book of Revelation reveal a God who loves us enough to allow for a freedom that is as dangerous as it is wonderful. Both speak of God's love for those who fear Him and the inevitable fiery judgment of those who don't.
While we might find it impossible to understand how God could allow anyone to choose the hell described by Jesus in His Sermon on the Mount (Mt. 5:22,29-30; 7:13-14), consider the alternative. The alternative to choice is no choice. To have no choice is to be less than human and to cease to exist in the likeness of God.
Choice is a part of the high calling given to us by God in His love. Accountability for our own decisions is part of what it means to be made in the image and likeness of God. With that capacity comes freedom unlike anything known either by the animal world below or the angelic world above. It is a freedom for enormous gain or loss.
Malachi reveals that God loves us enough to give us freedom of choice, but also enough to take our decisions seriously. He cares when we make a worthless sacrifice to fulfill ritual obligations (Mal. 1:6-14). He sees us when we break our promises to one another (Mal. 2:11-16). He knows when we try to protect our financial interests by withholding from Him the faith He's asked for (Mal. 3:8-11). He cares when we fear Him, and He cares when we don't (Mal. 3:16-4:3).
God has shown special love to some for the sake of all (Mal. 1:11; Rom. 11:11-14). God's purpose was never to make Israel the sole focus of His love. He had in view those Egyptians who would attach themselves to Hebrew friends when Israel was delivered from the Pharaoh. He had in mind Ruth the Moabite, who would say to a Jewish mother-in-law, "Your people shall be my people, and your God, my God" (Ruth 1:16). He had in mind the queen of Sheba, who would later travel a long way to see the extent of Solomon's riches and to learn the secret of his wisdom (1 Ki. 1:10-13).
These Gentiles were a partial fulfillment of the Lord's original intent to bless all the nations of the earth through the descendants of Abraham (Gen. 12:3). By choosing to make an example of Israel, the Lord gave everyone else reason to want what Israel had and to ask questions about her God.
At the end of Old Testament history the Lord used this same tactic on Israel. When Malachi wrote to Jerusalem in 450 BC, he called attention to the fact that God could be more pleased with the Gentiles than with Israel (1:11).
It's not too difficult to see how God could appeal to our envy. Many of us can see ourselves in the little child who discards his toys and treats them roughly until he sees another child pick them up and play with them. Many of us who are husbands know what it is to take our wife for granted until we see another man flirt with her.
God knows the feelings of envy that can be stirred up when we see someone else pick up the treasure of opportunity we have thrown away. Yet, the Lord isn't just playing mind games with us. He is serious when He warns us that if we don't respond to His love, He will find someone else who will wholeheartedly embrace Him.
By electing some to be the special objects of His grace, God is giving everyone reason to be envious of His love. Sometimes He uses Jews to make Gentiles envious. Sometimes he uses Gentiles to make Jews jealous. He loves us enough to appeal to our own nature to turn our hearts toward Him.
People who reject the love of God are likely to reject one another. Those who fail to find their inner security and significance in the Lord are apt to be driven by the kind of fears that cause them to be dangerous to others. Spiritually empty people tend to develop short-sighted strategies of self-protection. In a blind rush to protect their own interests, husbands reject their wives, parents ignore their children, and children despise their parents.
These are the social conditions reflected in the prophecy of Malachi. As the last prophet of the Old Testament, he reminded Israel that God hated the willful ways men were divorcing their wives. And in the last verse of that last prophecy, Malachi referred to broken parent-child relationships that had also resulted from Israel's spiritual failure.
Family conflict has been around for a long time. Most of it occurs when one or more members of a family lose a healthy sense of the fear and love of God. The husband and father who leaves his family to pursue another woman is often indulging a weak fear that he is not man enough to deal with the wife who knows his faults. Children who go silent or who lash out angrily also feel caught between contrary forces. Because they have not yet learned to find their security in God, they struggle with fears of being rejected by parents or friends.
Outwardly, we point our finger at one another. Instinctively, we raise issues of fairness and justice. We even turn against God Himself in our anger (Mal. 2:17). But behind the tough exterior are frightened people trying to scramble to protect their own interests. Behind the anger is usually wounded pride and a fearful heart.
Recognizing the fear behind the anger helps us to see what happens when individuals of any age or circumstance refuse to accept the security of the God who loves them.
Rejecting or resisting the love of God puts all of us in a position to reject others, to protect ourselves from further pain. We may become emotionally detached, irritable, angry, demanding, or morally unprincipled. There are many self-destructive strategies for trying to protect ourselves from the painful rejection of others. But the underlying principle is always the same. Damaged people who are not rescued and controlled by the love of God try to avoid further pain and rejection by taking their safety into their own hands. The results are never good. Our efforts to protect ourselves from further rejection turn into more thoughts and feelings that take on a tormented life of their own.
These are the problems addressed by both secular and spiritual counselors. They plague religious as well as secular victims. When analyzed by themselves, they seem to be understandable results of understandable human dynamics.
As M. Scott Peck points out in The Road Less Traveled, hurt people tend to be marked by:
* avoidance of pain (indulgence),
* avoidance of responsibility (projection of blame),
* avoidance of reality/truth (flight from reality),
* avoidance of change (failure to balance).
Peck goes on to show how secular insight helps hurt people learn to (1) defer gratification, (2) accept responsibility for their own choices, (3) commit themselves to reality (rather than running from it, and (4) learn to balance their expectations of everchanging circumstances.
Secular insight, however, leaves some important questions unanswered. As helpful as it is, it offers no real answers to the questions: Who am I? What is my real problem? How should I live? Who says I've got the ability to be what I should be?
It is in answering these questions that the Bible offers so much help in coming to terms with the problems of rejection and lost love. It is in answering these questions that the Bible goes on to show us how to rediscover the security and grace that we have rejected but now so desperately need.
The love of God that Malachi talked about didn't end with the last of the Old Testament prophets. With the coming of night, a new dawn would follow.
