Is

Is

But without faith it is impossible to please him: he that comes must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him. (Heb. 11:6)

Suppose you’re vacationing in some way out-of-the-way location, a long way from civilization and your child suddenly becomes violently ill and is in urgent need of care. You and your spouse load the child in the car and race to the nearest village. There you are told of three medical providers, all of whom live next to each other. “Whew, what are the chances of that?” you think. So, you drive to the street, locate the first physician and knock on the door.

No one answers. You knock again and no one answers. Only after knocking a third time, do you notice a sign over the doorway that reads, “No one lives here.” So, you run back to your car and inform your mate, “The place is empty.” “Go next door,” you’re instructed, and so you do.

This time there’s an answer when you knock. An old man with a kind face listens to your problem and says, “I wish I could help you. There was a day when I could. But I can’t now. I need care myself. In fact, if you have time, I need someone to come and prepare my meal. Also, if you could spare a few dollars, I’m a bit short on cash. . . .“ Realizing your child won’t be helped here, you apologize mid-sentence to the gentleman and leave, shouting to the car as you run, “Someone’s there, but he can’t help.”

Your child is worsening by the minute and you have only one more option. You run to the third house. This time an able-looking professional opens the door. “How may I help?” he asks. You explain that your child is very sick and needs immediate care. “Quickly, bring the child to me,” he urges. “Are you able to help?” “I am,” he says “Are you willing to help?” “I am,” he reassures. He’s there and he’s willing to help. That’s all you know. But that’s all you need to know. You don’t need to know his birthplace, or his Social Security number or his life’s story — all you need is his existence and availability, his presence and his willingness. He’s there and he’s good. Those two facts are enough to take you in to his presence.

Those same two facts are enough to take you in to the presence of God. The man who approaches God must have faith in two things, first, that God exists and secondly that God rewards those who search for him. (Heb. 11:6) So, what’s required? A conviction that God is, and the conviction that God is good. Those who would come to God must believe that God is real and that God is responsive. These convictions form the foundation of prayer. These convictions are found in one word in the first sentence of our Lord’s prayer.

“So, what is the word?” Well, I’ll give you a hint – you just read it. “Is it in this sentence?” It is. In fact, it’s in the answer I just gave. “Come on, is this a joke?” Would I kid you? (By the way the word was in your question, too) See it?

“Is,” as in “Our father who is in heaven.” God is. Not God was, or God will be. Not God could be or should be, but God is. He is. The God of the present tense.

That’s all you need to know to come to God. More is helpful perhaps, but not necessary. More can come later, but none can come earlier. Begin with the reality and the responsiveness of God. Remember the condition described in Hebrews? If you believe there is a living God (he is), and you believe there is a loving God (he rewards those who seek him), then you have faith. And you are welcome in his presence.

In other words, the foundation of his kingdom is not built on you, but on him. The key question is not “Who am I?” but rather “Who is God?” Your achievements, however noble, are not important. Your credentials, as remarkable as they may be, are of no concern. God is the force behind your journey. His strength is the key factor. Don’t focus on your strength, but on his. Occupy yourself with the nature of God, not the size of your bicep.

That’s what Moses did. Well, at least that’s what God told Moses to do. Remember the conversation at the burning bush? The tone was set in the first sentence. Take off your sandals because you are standing on holy ground. (Ex. 3:5) Immediately the roles were defined. God is holy. Approaching him on even a quarter-inch of leather is too pompous. With those eleven words Moses was enrolled in a class on God. No time is spent convincing Moses what Moses could do, but a lot of time was spent explaining to Moses what God would do.

But we tend to do the opposite, don’t we? Our approach would have been to explain to Moses how he’s ideally suited to return to Egypt. (Who better to understand the culture than a former prince?) Then, we’d remind Moses how perfect he was for wilderness travel. (Who knows the desert better than a shepherd?) Then, we’d spend a lot of time reviewing with Moses his resume and his strengths. (Come on Moses, you can do it. Give it a try)

God doesn’t. The strength of Moses is never considered. No pep talk is given; no pats on the back are offered. Not one word is given to recruit Moses. But a lot of words are given that reveal God. You see, the strength of Moses is not the issue. The strength of God is. In fact, re-read that last phrase replacing the name of Moses with your name. “The strength of _________ is not the issue. The strength of God is.” You aren’t the force behind a volcano, or the mortar within the foundation: God is. And I know you understand that statement, but do you accept it in your heart? Would you like to?

One of the most encouraging ways to study God is to study his names. The study of the names of God is no brief reading, either. After all, there are dozens of them in scripture. But if you want a place to begin, start with some of the compound names of God in the Old Testament. Each of them reveals a different aspect of God’s character.

Truth is, the more God’s people came to know him, the more names they gave him. Initially God was known as Elohim. “In the beginning God (Elohim) created. . . .“ (Gen. 1:1) The Hebrew word, “Elohim,” carries with it the meaning of “strong one," or "creator.” Thus, when we call God Elohim, we refer to his strength, or omnipotence. In fact, Elohim appears 31 times in the first chapter of Genesis alone because that’s where we see his creative power.

As God revealed himself to his children, however, they saw him as more than just a mighty force. They saw him as a loving creator who met them at every crossroad of their lives.

Jacob, for example, came to see God as Jehovah Roi, a caring shepherd. “Like a shepherd,” Jacob told his family, “God has led me all my life.” (Gen. 48:15) And the phrase is surely a compliment to God, because Jacob was less than a cooperative sheep. Twice he tricked his brother, and at least once he suckered his blind father; he out-crossed his double-crossing father-in-law by conning him out of his livestock and then, when the fellow wasn’t looking, made like a Colt out of Baltimore in the middle of the night sneaking off with anything that wasn’t nailed down.

Jacob was never a candidate for the best-behaved sheep award, but God never forgot him, either. God gave him food in the famine, forgiveness in his failures, and faith in his final years. Ask Jacob to describe God in a word, his word was Jehovah Roi — the caring shepherd.

Abraham had another word for God: Jehovah-jireh. “The Lord who provides.” And Abraham came by the name honestly. It all began when Abraham heard the call to go to the land of Canaan, and so he went. God promised to make him the father of the nations and he believed. But that was before Lot took the best land. That was before the king of Egypt took his wife. That was before he found out that he, the father of the nations, was married to a woman who couldn’t have children. But then Lot ended up in Sodom and Gomorrah, the Pharaoh ended up returning Sarah, and Abraham ended up bouncing his first-born on his hundred-year-old bony knees. Abraham learned that God provides. But even Abraham must have shaken his head when God asked him to sacrifice his own son on Mt. Moriah.

But up the mountain they went. “Where is the lamb we will burn as a sacrifice?” his son asked. (Gen. 22:7) And you wonder how the words made it past the lump in Abraham’s throat, “God will give us the lamb for the sacrifice, my son.” (vs. 8)  Jehovah-jireh: the Lord will provide. And then Abraham tied up his son, placed him on the altar and raised the knife … and the angel stayed his hand. Abraham had proven his faith.

Just then, he heard a rustling in the thicket and saw a ram caught in a bush by his horns. He offered it as an offering and gave the mountain a name: Jehovah-jireh — The Lord Provides.

And then there’s Gideon. The Lord came to Gideon and told him he was to lead his people in victory over the Midianites. That’s like God telling a kindergartner to get in the car and go to work; or a high school student to take on a drug cartel; or a preacher to preach the truth to the fat and sassy. “Y-y-you b-b-better get somebody else,” we stammer. But then God reminds us that he knows we can’t but he can. And to prove it, he gives a wonderful gift – peace. He brings a spirit of peace. A peace before the storm. A peace beyond logic, or as Paul described it, “A peace which passes all understanding.” (Phil. 4:7)

He gave it to David after he showed him Goliath. He gave it to Saul after he showed him the gospel. And he gave it to Jesus after he showed him the cross. And he gave it to Gideon. So Gideon, in turn, gave the name to God. He built an altar and named it, “Jehovah-Shalom” The Lord is peace. (Judges 6:24)

God the Creator; God the Caring Shepherd; God the Provider; God, the Lord of Peace. Just some of the names that help us understand the God Who Is.

God is the God who always is. “I am who I am,” he says. (Exodus 3:14)

Who is the one who created the world? God is.

Who is the one who provides the needs of his children? God is.

Who is the one who saves his people? God is.

Who is the one who rewards those that diligently seek him? God is.

And, no, it doesn’t depend upon what the meaning of the word “is” is.

Grace,

                Randy