Butterflies and Theology

“God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good” -Genesis 1:31

Last week I took little Theo to the Meier Gardens to see the butterflies in bloom. It was a beautiful sunny day. Little Theo rocked his Mickey Mouse sunglasses, and sat happy as can be in the back seat, talking my ear off all the way to the East Beltline.

We got there just after the doors opened, but the parking lot was already packed. As we walked inside, we were overwhelmed by crowds of happy children moving about. Theo clung to my hand with big eyes.

We paid the outrageous price to get in, and headed towards the butterfly room. If you have not been there, it is an absolutely enormous greenhouse of exotic plants, flowers, vines, streams and waterfalls. It is bright, humid, and simply beautiful, like stepping suddenly into a tropical rainforest.

As soon as we walked through the door, we couldn’t move because there were so many people. I’m talking stepping-on-the-backs-of-your-shoes kind of crowded. I’m talking I-can-smell-your-breath-because-we-are-standing-so-close kind of crowded. I’m talking I’m-going-to-lose-my-son kind of crowded. I’m talking I’m-going-to-spontaneously-combust kind of crowded.

The bigger kids knocked into my little Theo, stepping on his toes and shoving their way in front of him. Someone’s stray one year-old was tearing the wings off of a butterfly. A butterfly fluttered past us, and my Theo screamed and clung to my leg.

As a parent you think you have a good idea, and you create this expectation of an event which will lead to priceless and picture-perfect snapshots to remember forever. I imagined my Theo, in his bright blue sweater, smiling his magical smile, reaching candidly for a gorgeous fluttering butterfly, under a perfect canopy of vines and flowers, and with heavenly sunlight shining through the greens to create the most perfect picture anyone has ever seen.

Instead, I got a 3 year-old screaming terrified of butterflies while getting shoved by bigger kids who are simultaneously stomping on my toes. Really? I just paid to do this? Totally overrated.

As we shuffled down the winding path, the crowd began to thin out, at least enough so that you take a breath without having to share the oxygen with someone else. Theo was finally able to stop and get a good look.

We were standing by a waterfall, and enormous tree-leaves were drooping near us, covered in bright butterflies. Something caught my eye, and I looked up to see two enormous butterflies chasing each other, fluttering happily behind the backdrop of the waterfall, bright rays of sunlight streaming through the water and reflecting on their bright blue happy wings. Picture perfect.

It was so beautiful my pulse skyrocketed, and I actually gasped out loud as it took the wind right out of me. I was, in an instant, in the midst of my cynicism, confronted with all things creative, beautiful, unspeakable, and inexpressible. 

It pointed to God, His creation, His gifts to us, His handiwork, His immeasurable and all-surpassing awesomeness summed up in a fleeting dance of butterflies. It was a glimpse of Heaven, of Jesus, of all things made right and perfect and unblemished.

And in the middle of this giant crowd of people and disorder, I burst into tears. There was just no way around, it was too beautiful and I just couldn’t even pretend to stay composed in the face of God’s wonder. My irritated heart was melted, and remolded into something more whimsical and childlike.

For the rest of the day and on, things looked different. The sky brighter, and the air fresher. The curls on the heads of my boys sweeter, their little bodies more precious. The soft sense of God with us more real. Details viewed through the lens of grace.

I used to be tough. Tough, and smart. And arrogant. A couple of years ago, if I was reading about someone crying over some stupid butterflies, I would roll my eyes right out of my head and write it off as useless emotionalism. Smart, strong, respectable people don’t cry over silly things, especially butterflies for crying out loud. Smart, strong, respectable people also don’t see God in such little useless details. Don’t they know that God is way bigger and more important than that? Butterflies. Give me a break.

But here I am, writing about butterflies and getting the lump in my throat again just thinking about it.

In the Old Testament, God promised to restore the world to how it was supposed to be, to restore it to His normal. Not the normal of sin and disorder, but the normal of harmony with God, with ourselves, with each other, and with Creation.

Jesus has begun this process of the new normal, and we know He will return to finish it. We live in the in-between time, seeing glimpses of God’s completed perfect normal which we will know and live when Jesus comes back again.

Paul puts it this way, saying, “For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known” (1 Cor. 13:12). What we see is imperfect and incomplete, a foretaste of what will become much more. 

It is strange, sometimes, the ways we can come face-to-face with glimpses into God’s perfect normal. Jesus chose to be present to me via butterflies that day, and it certainly changed me, but I do not know why He did it by these means, at this time, in this way. Apparently He knew that I needed something, and gave it to me without explanation, in the same way I give my boys what they need because they don’t know what is good for them. Just receive, child! 

I don’t have the whole picture, and I am not sure that I can articulate a coherent theological connection between butterflies, and the presence of Jesus. But I know Jesus melts my heart, heals my vision, and corrects my perspective. And that is enough, enough to make me want to stay very near to Him. Because I want more. 

Time and time again, from person to person, I have seen that Jesus melts the heart of stone. For me, it has been a process of healing, and it is still incredibly unsettling to realize that the presence of Jesus and His great love can knock me off of my square and turn me into a weeping whimsical child crying over butterflies at any moment. I have come to believe that Jesus loves us in more intimate, detailed ways than we realize. I hope you have your own beautiful Jesus butterflies today, your own glimpse and foretaste of God’s normal for us.

Boston and Gospel

Friends, it was scarcely six months ago when I sat in this office, staring at a blank page with a blinking cursor, asking God what words I could possibly use to make sense of the slaughter of innocent children which took place in the Sandy Hook school shooting in Connecticut. 

Today seems to be more of the same, and so soon. More Sandy Hook, more September 11th, more Columbine, more Oklahoma City Bombing. More. 

Regardless of how we feel about the state of our media, one thing is for sure: they guarantee that we will get on-the-spot, real time graphic coverage. 

Last night, we tucked our kids into their safe beds a little early, and like you, clicked on the nightly news. We saw the video of the bomb going off at the finish line of the Boston Marathon, and then we saw it again, and again. We saw the blood-spattered cement, and clumps of what we can easily assume were dismembered body parts laying among the bodies of victims on the ground. 

We saw the victims being wheeled away, bloody and in shock, bones sticking out of legs. We desperately grabbed at the one positive thing we saw, which was the first-responders and spectators alike running to the scene to help the victims. This, a tiny beacon of light in the dark of hell. 

The chaos of evil has broken into our normal lives once again. Most of us here are not affected in the sense of losing loved ones or being there when it happened, but we are affected. We are sad and we are scared. 

How does one connect the dots to make good come out of this kind of evil, to make sense out of nonsense? 

It is tempting to try our hardest to cling to the hope for humanity which we see present in those emergency people and spectators who risked themselves to help their fellow man. Indeed, this is hopeful. But it is not enough, it is not enough to keep us from sinking into despair, drowning in the lurking notion that God is nowhere, or God hates us. 

No, the nobility of man, no matter how moving or true, ultimately does not overshadow the blatant act of evil chaos which has taken place. It is a hopeful and soothing balm, in and of itself, but it does not solve the problem or erase the evil. 

What then? 

The only thing to do today is to boldly preach the gospel in the face of hell breaking loose on earth. That’s it. There is no other consolation, no other fancy spiritual-worded mumbo jumbo to cling to for satisfaction. Just the gospel, the sweet gospel, the balm for the sin-sick soul which is Jesus Christ. 

So what we need to hear today is not an eloquent psychoanalyzing of the state of society, of the mental health system, gun legislation, the demise of constitutional America, terrorism, or any other such issue. 

We just need the sweet truth of the gospel.

Here are some truths to trust in today, some truths that are true no matter what hell we see on earth coming into our living room through our television screens: 

Through bombs and explosions, war, death, tragedy, and all suffering, the God of Israel is still our God, and is still sovereign over His Creation, completely regardless of if we understand what is going on or not. 

Jesus Christ is still His only Son, and He is still “the Word who became flesh and made His dwelling among us” (John 1:14). 

Jesus is still our Savior, the lover of sinners, “the way, the truth, and the life” (John 14:6). 

Jesus still died for us, for sinners in the sin-sick world. It is still finished, and He has still taken the sin of the world on Himself that we might be free (John 19:30). 

Jesus is still risen from the dead, the tomb continues to be empty (John 20). 

Through Christ, we have been given “the right to become children of God” (John 1:12). We are at peace with God and we can trust that He loves us. 

Through the Holy Spirit Jesus continues to give us peace in the midst of chaos (John 14:27). 

Jesus will return to finish the redemption of the world which He has started, to judge the living and the dead, and “every knee will bow and every tongue will confess to God” (Romans 14:9-11). 

Through blood and tear-stained eyes, it still stands that “God so loved the world, that He sent His one and Only Son that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16). God loves sinners, and Jesus came as the one and only light to this dark world. 

This is our hope, and a blessed hope it is. The truth of our salvation, of God’s love for us, and of God’s ultimate victory over evil – this is the solid rock on which we stand. Jesus as Lord does not shift with the sands, does not get blown about in the wind, and does not change due to even the ugliest and worst circumstances. 

Today and in the days to come, do not waste your time and energy looking about, looking up down and around trying to find sense and reason where there is only nonsense and unreasonableness. 

Evil is chaos. Do not stare into evil or it will lead you to despair. I do not say this to say that we should not be engaged with this suffering. As Christians, we should feel it deeply, we should pray deeply and hurt deeply. Indeed we have all shed tears and feel sick and heavy today. Love for Jesus means painful love for the broken world, love which brings tears and questions and heartache. But do not look to your own reason, to politicians or media for hope. Look to Jesus, turn your face to Him constantly. He is our Rock. 

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. –Romans 8:37-39 

Lord, we pray for your presence and light today. We pray for these victims of violence and everyone affected, including the caverns of our own hearts. Be with your people who trust you, and be with those who do not know you and do not have hope. We pray that the world would turn to You and believe. In Jesus’ name, amen.