We don’t know how to connect unity and diversity, because there is no metanarrative, no universal truth; there’s no “truth”.
The nature of being is relationality.
In the interests of full disclosure, it would be less than honest not to begin this post with a small disclaimer.
When Jesus cries my cry on the cross, it is the most precious cry he ever makes. And he’s not playing.
We turned our face. We despised him. We esteemed him stricken by God and afflicted. And it wasn’t the truth.
So God is going to climb inside Abraham’s world and speak sacrifice, appeasement, and magic. Because that’s the language Abraham knows.
When I was a missionary kid, we had this great story line about Abraham and Isaac.
The Trinity has no separation.
In his novel The Shack William Paul Young struggles with the human experience of tragedy.
I grew up with a distant, unapproachable, unknowable, unreachable, watching-from-the-distance-of-a- disapproving-heart, God.