Made Whole

Holy. Most people know right away that when you use the word you are going to say something about God; and if not God, then something that has to do with God—the Holy Bible or the Holy Spirit. They have no reservations about singing hymns that proclaim God’s holiness. They will gladly repeat prayers that acknowledge God’s holiness. Some of these same people bristle when you remind them “the Scriptures say, ‘You must be holy because I am holy’”(1 Peter 1:16).

Some of the resistance people have to the call to “be holy” may be attributed to their experiences with people who claimed the concept, but whose actions fell far short of resembling or honoring God. There are few ways they would want someone else to describe them that would rank below “holier than thou.” Besides all that, it seems such an impossible, unreachable, challenging goal. “. . . and doesn’t God love me just the way I am?”

The origin of the word “holy” goes back to the Middle English word “whole.” How would it change your response to the call to be “holy” if you heard it as an invitation to be “whole”?

When something is “whole” it is free of wound or injury—unhurt. It is free of defect or impairment—intact. With so many reminders of your brokenness, you might feel excluded right away; but “whole” also means recovered from a wound or injury—restored.

“Whole” is used to describe someone who is physically sound and healthy—free of disease or deformity; as well as someone who is mentally or emotionally sound. For all those people who feel like something is missing in their lives, “whole” means having all its proper parts or components—complete.

Here’s the good news: “Even before he made the world, God loved us and chose us in Christ to be holy and without fault in his eyes” (Ephesians 1:4). It is another sign of God’s grace. The One who saved us is working to restore us and make us whole.

Working behind the Scenes

It’s opening night. As you approach the front of the theater you can sense the excitement in the air. Everyone seems to be eager to get in the building and find their seats.

You hand your ticket to the person at the door. You were more than slightly surprised that your friend wanted you to be here tonight. It feels like months since he’s had time for you—almost like he dropped off the face of the earth.

You take back the stub. Someone hands you a program. One of the ushers points you in the right direction. You find your row and then edge your way past the people already in their seats until you find yours.

You flip through the program nervously, looking up every once in a while to see if there is anyone else there who you know. They are mostly strangers. It really is a quite diverse group.

The program has a message from the director. You try to read it, but you are too distracted by everything else going on to really understand what you are reading. A few pages over you find a picture of your friend and a little bit of information about him that you find much easier to comprehend.

Before you can read much more, the lights begin to dim, the curtain rises, and the show has begun. The action captures your attention from the beginning. People moving back and forth, on and off the stage, with such purpose and action. It seems so natural and, at the same time, so carefully choreographed.

Your friend comes on stage. You recognize him immediately; but as the character he portrays moves about the stage and interacts with the other actors, you begin to wonder if it is really him. Indeed, you realize that the drama unfolding onstage has become its own reality. You have been transported to a different time and place—all without leaving seat L-31.

Suddenly a question springs to mind: How much time and effort went into making this evening possible? Weeks, months, years? So many elements brought together to make this possible—a show that will only be performed a few nights.

That leads to an even deeper question: What about my life? Who is working behind the scenes to make my life what it is—preventing me from tragedy and preparing me for blessing?

In that moment you realize it is impossible to step outside God’s gracious reach. Indeed, God is always actively engaged in leading you, blessing you, loving you, flooding your life with his grace.