If God doesn’t change, why is the Old Testament God of vengeance, wrath, and jealousy so different than the New Testament God of love, mercy, and grace?
I’m not going to pretend to know the answer; the paradox has perplexed the faithful and unfaithful for almost two thousand years. He is my layman’s attempt:
The difference between the Old Testament and the New Testament, at its heart is this character that came down to walk among us clumsy and idiotic humans. You know the story. He was born in a stable to a couple of hick Jews. He was placed in a manger; he grew up to tell confusing stories in metaphors his compatriots didn’t understand. They followed him anyway, healing the sick and passing out fish. Then things got wacky, he claimed he was the Son of God and was crucified for his blasphemy. Not that it was blasphemy.
In the Old Testament to talk to God a high priest had to cut up a couple of lambs, offer gifts for his own sins and then offer more sacrifices for the people. Whoever the lucky soul was entered once a year with bells tied to his cloak and a rope around his waist just in case he wasn’t as sinless as they had thought… how else would you retrieve a dead priest from the Holy of Holies? He washed, he fasted, he passed through the curtains so that he might even have a moment to talk to God. We were indeed sinners in the hands of an angry God.
When we were children, hopefully we had someone that loved us to look after us. There were rules. Lots of rules. Some were dos, some were don’ts but there were lots of them. No more than one coke per day, no more than two hours of television a day, you will drink your milk, you will not stand on your brother’s back, you will not order pizza when you are home alone, you will not hit your sister, and you will eat the crust of your bread. For most of us (I hope) the rules have changed a little. You still probably shouldn’t hit your sister, but you can order pizza whenever you feel like it. You don’t have to eat the crust of your bread and you certainly don’t have to buy wheat bread; you don’t have any curfew anymore. You break the rules; most of them, if not all of them… but your parents love you anyway, and perhaps… you know this better than you did before.
Something changed.
That baby that we sang about yesterday, he grew up to do some pretty weird stuff and said some weirder stuff, but as they were hanging him on the tree he entered that holy place by his own blood. He was perfect, unblemished, sane and sinless… and as he was executed for a crime he never committed he became the ransom for our kidnapped souls (Hebrews 4:14-10:39). The curtain was ripped in two from top to bottom and the mount was thrown into the sea. The temple was destroyed and raised again in three days and now we are allowed to talk to God without the mediation of a high priest because the sins that kept us from God have been forgiven.
We can talk to our parents, some better than others mind you… and the relationship is forever changed. Just as our parents didn’t really change we just see them in a different light (and they us), God didn’t change either. He sees us through the lens of Christ and that is at the heart of it all, and in the morning he will sit by our side and make us a breakfast of fish sticks, toast, and tartar sauce.
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