Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations. Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever you had formed the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God. You return man to dust and say, "Return, O children of man!" For a thousand years in your sight are but as yesterday when it is past, or as a watch in the night. - Psalm 90: 1-4 (ESV)
We do not serve some rogue god who is constrained by the temporal limits we try to place upon him. Some culturally bound entity who has to consult parchments from ages past to understand what is going on in our lives. Even though we may appear as scribbled lines in the margins of the story He is writing, we are infinitely encouraged that He writes about us at all. That He would stop and consider us. That He would stoop down to write in the sand while we consider our self importance before Him. That He would patiently wait while we drop the rocks we bring to Him to slay others for the very sins that darken our own souls.
What we fail to realize is that what appear as scribblings to us has depth of love in them that we can never fathom. That this same God who was before the mountains came forth is the same God who collects our tears. That to our God there is but a blink of the eye between the debauchery of the golden calf and the debauchery of 21st century false gospels. Idolatry remains idolatry down through ages. God remains God. The notion of the Gospel of Jesus Christ lacking cultural relevance is laughable to a God who is from everlasting to everlasting before He raised Adam from the dust and breathed life into Him. The issue is not that the Gospel is insufficient for the culture. The issue is that the church prefers the culture over the Gospel. Just like long ago the people of God would follow after Baal or Ashtaroth. Arguing for cultural relevance is like taking the Ark of the Covenant into the house of Dagon. We prop Dagon up but when it stands before the God who sees a thousand years as if it were but a watch in the night - it cannot stand. We keep propping Dagon up but it cannot stand. Then we find one morning that the Dagon we worship has fallen upon the threshold with its head and arms broken off. Yet unlike the Priests of Dagon of old, who would never tread upon the threshold of the house of Dagon again, we turn and blame the presence of God.. We turn and blame the Gospel.
Nowhere have been instructed to take the double edged sword that is the Word of God and beat it into a plowshare. We remain in a spiritual war but are carrying gardening tools. Return to your dwelling place beloved. Return.
