A God I Didn't Make

Justice, Righteousness, and the Creator of Heaven

O mighty King, lover of justice, you have established equity; you have executed justice and righteousness in Jacob.

— Psalm 99

As for all the gods of the nations, they are but idols; but it is the Lord who made the heavens.

— Psalm 96

Justice. Equity. Righteousness. Three words that appear together in Psalm 99, and three words that can stir considerable controversy in our own time. We sometimes speak as though justice and equity belong to one side of our political conversations, while righteousness belongs to another. But the Psalmist makes no such division. God loves justice, establishes equity, and executes righteousness. These aren't competing priorities. Nor is justice merely a reward for people who have behaved themselves. Even people who have sinned can suffer injustice. God's concern for how we treat one another does not disappear because the person being mistreated is imperfect. And His concern for righteousness doesn't disappear because we're pursuing a worthy social cause.

I wonder how the ancient Israelites understood these words. Their history included enslavement, deliverance, prosperity, division, conquest and exile. Even during their most prosperous years, wealth and power were hardly distributed equally. We don't know precisely when Psalm 99 was composed, but its message could speak to Israel in any of those circumstances. Prosperity doesn't eliminate injustice, and suffering doesn't automatically make people righteous. The Psalm reminds us that the God of Israel is committed to both justice and righteousness, even when His own people fail to practice them.

Then Psalm 96 makes an even more extraordinary claim. The gods of the nations are idols, “but it is the Lord who made the heavens.” I am reminded of an episode of the original Star Trek series, “Who Mourns for Adonais?” The Enterprise encounters Apollo, the ancient Greek god, who longs for human beings to worship and love him as they once did. Without their devotion, his existence has lost its purpose. It's a fascinating science-fiction idea, and one that appears in other imaginative stories: gods who depend upon their worshippers. But the Psalmist turns that idea upside down. The God of Israel doesn't exist because people worship Him. People exist because He created them.

That distinction changes everything. I can worship God, misunderstand Him, ignore Him or even deny His existence. None of those responses changes who He is. Yesterday we read about Cyrus, a king whom God was using to accomplish His purposes even though Cyrus didn't know Him. Moses, meanwhile, desperately wanted to see God's glory but could behold only what God permitted him to see. Both stories remind me that God is not limited by my ability to perceive, comprehend or acknowledge Him. Why would the Creator of everything be confined to the boundaries of my understanding?

And yet I can be remarkably eager to make God more manageable. I can imagine a God who shares my political convictions, endorses my grievances, approves of my priorities and asks relatively little of me. Perhaps He cares passionately about righteousness but seems strangely indifferent to injustice. Or perhaps He champions justice while remaining conveniently silent about my own conduct. Either way, I have fashioned a god who looks suspiciously like myself. Israel once made a golden calf from its own possessions. I can do something similar with my opinions, preferences and certainties, without melting a single earring.

Perhaps growing in faith means becoming less frightened of a God I cannot fully explain. The Creator can be loving and just, merciful and holy, near enough to speak with Moses as a friend and glorious beyond Moses' capacity to behold. I don't have to resolve every mystery before trusting Him. But I do need to resist the temptation to remake Him into somebody easier to agree with. The God who made the heavens is not the God I get to make in my own image. And perhaps that's exactly what I should expect of the One who made everything.

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