The Lord is near. . .

Like Santa, the Lord is watching out to see if you are naughty or nice.  Or so the child views the comparison between the red fat man who comes once a year to divvy out presents and the mighty One who comes at the end of time as King and Judge of all.  At first, it might seem an understandable comparison.  But that is because we have presumed the nearness of the Lord is tied to one purpose -- judgment.  How odd that we would do that?  Could it be inner guilt that moves our perception of God's immediacy instead of the promise of Emmanuel?  Whatever, the Christian presumes God is closer to every day life and to the person more than farther.  Those who believe in some sort of God but could hardly be called Christian tend to think of God in more distant terms.  And why not?  It fits the idea of a Santa God who is there when you want him and absent when you don't and it goes with the idea that such a God is more interested in your behavior than in you.

For the Christian, the nearness of the Lord is not something tied to a watchful eye looking over our shoulders at our misdeeds.  It is not a fearful thing that concerns us -- it is of great comfort to us to know that God is present.  Bidden or not, God is present.  That presence is itself part of His beneficence.  We are greatly relieved that God is near and His nearness is not simply due to His watchful concern over our errors and screw ups.  No, God is near as an agent and instrument of blessing to us -- undeserved though we are.  That makes His presence even more comforting.  The presence of the Lord is not some warning shot across our bow (except to those who do not know Him by faith) but the assurance that no matter how we feel or how things look, He is with us -- full of grace and truth.

One of the hallmarks of faith is how you perceive God's immediate presence.  Those who are not religious tend to think of God on a shelf, there when you need Him and not there when you don't. The key here is you decide when you need Him and You make Him present.  He is the God of crises and longing when nothing else works to fix or answer the need.  But this is hardly faith.  Nobody has to believe in a fire extinguisher in order to reach for one when you cannot put out the fire any other way.  For the religious God is near and He is the mover who comes to us (incarnation) and makes His home with us (Church and means of grace).  We awaken to that presence when faith, prompted by the Spirit, opens up eyes we did not have before and hearts that were closed to the working of God.  The God who is near, whether bidden or not, is the God whose will is good and gracious, whose mercy trumps His justice, and whose Fatherly compassion is not simply our rescue but our very ground of being.

The practice of such an immediate God means prayer -- a conversation with God which always ends with the statement only faith can make -- Thy will be done.  It means being conversant with His Word -- not as a rule book or an encyclopedia of knowledge or a how to guide but as the place where the child hears the voice of His heavenly Father, the lamb hears the call of His Good Shepherd, and bride hears the beckoning love of her bridegroom.  It means a flowering of new life not as duty to a set of ideals but as the prompting of the Spirit to practice the things of God here and now -- sort of a rehearsal for the eternity when the prompting will be be replaced by an innate knowledge and desire for God.

Coming now well after the first announcement of Emmanuel, we have seen it put into place in water become wine, strangers become disciples, the sick healed, the lame restored, and the demon possessed set free.  We will trek with the inner circle to the transfiguration mount where the glory will be revealed but now, as we approach Lent, we discover that the greater glory is the love that was willing to die that we might live.  It is this nearness of the Lord that drives and compels the Christian.  It is this perfect love that casts out fear of His presence and a nearness too close for comfort.