Was God a Bad Dad?

As I sit here less than 2 hours from the ringing in of the new year and wondering what 2011 will bring, I am reminded of another person who contemplated the beginning of time.  Before the beginning of everything (which is a very difficult concept for my rational mind to even write much less to comprehend) God knew that the humanity with whom He was wanting a relationship would not be able to relate to Him.  He had a plan, and this plan involved His Son, Jesus.  "For He chose us in Him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in His sight.  In love He predestined us to be adopted as His sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with His pleasure and will" (Ephesians 1:4-5).


"In love..."    That's the part that so many, myself included at times, cannot understand.  I have heard people state as their reason for their disbelief that they cannot  believe that a loving God would knowingly send His Son to His torture and death.  Yet scripture is very clear, from Genesis to the Revelation, that this was God's plan, worked out from the beginning.  Redemption is brutal and bloody.  


I think that people with this view get hung up on two critical points, the word "sent" and the notion of the Trinity.  I am tackling the easier one first, the word "sent."  A quick search on www.dictionary.com indicates the the first part of the first definition of "send" is "to cause...to go."  With that definition in mind, it is easy to invision an almost mafia-type scenario, with God the Father forcing His Son to His death against His will, a cold-hearted Father making His Son take the punishment for what His enemies had done wrong.  It's even easier to maintain this cruel and abusive view of God when reading about the crucifixion, when His Own Son cried out in agony, "Father!  Why have You turned Your back on Me?  Why have You rejected Me?"  Yes, it is easy to see God as a mean, cruel, vengeful being and difficult to see that this was done in love.


However, the first definition of "send"  also is "to permit...to go."  To permit...that puts a whole new perspective on it for me.  Enter the difficult task of trying to comprehend the Trinity.  Given that I think in metaphor, the best way for me to attempt to comprehend the Trinity is through the concept of roles.  I am one person, but I have many roles.  I am daughter, wife, mom, friend, etc.  When I think metaphorically, it makes more sense how such a horrific thing could have been done in love.  


Keeping in mind the definition of "to permit" coupled with the metaphor of one person filling many roles, the following metaphor comes to mind.  I, in the daughter role, am talking to my dad.  Dad tells me that if I were to have my son, Jadyn would be born with a horrific condition that would impair all aspects of his life and end in a painful, prolonged, agonizing death.  However, this could all be avoided if I, in the mom role, would take Jadyn's place.  Would I, as Jadyn's mom, choose to take on all of his pain and eventual death in order to have a relationship with him?  A heartbeat would not pass before the answer would be a resounding, "Absolutely!"  My dad, on the other hand, would be wracked with grief, knowing what I was about to suffer.  He may try to convince me not to go because it would hurt him so much to see me suffer.  However, he would permit me to go because he loved me and he loved my son and the relationship he could have with him if this affliction were removed.


In love he would permit me, his daughter, to go and suffer for the sake of Jadyn.
In love I, the mom, would go willingly to take the place for Jadyn so he could have an abundant life and a relationship with my dad.
In love I would lay down my life in the assurance that Jadyn would be free.
In love my dad would have to look away because he could not bear to see me go through such agony and he could do nothing about it or the agreement would be nullified.


Oh, but it doesn't end there.  In love for my son, I suffered and fulfilled my obligation.  Jadyn is free from the affliction that tormented him.  Now, in love that is so amazing, my dad calls to me, "Arise, My Love.  Arise, My Love.  The grave no longer has a hold on you.  No more death sting. No more suffering.  Arise, Arise, My Love."


Was God a bad dad because He allowed Jesus to take my place?  Not at all.  He is the most loving being imaginable because in my metaphor, my dad would not have permitted me to go through all of this for someone who didn't love me at all; for someone who would spit on me, beat me until I was recognizable; for someone who whip me until my back was shredded; for someone who would nail me to a cross and gamble for  my clothes.  He would not have permitted me to go through all of this for someone who refused to acknowledge my sacrifice and even go so far as to say that it happened because I was a charismatic cult leader who bucked the system.  He would not permit me to go through this for someone who questioned whether or not I really existed.  And I'm not sure I would have wanted to go.


So, was God a bad dad?  Not at all.  "But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Romans 5:8).  For God so loved everyone in the world that He permitted His Son to take humanity's place, my place, simply because He  wants me to be in His Beloved family.  


Thank You, God, for loving me beyond comprehension.