We are moving on to the fourth and final chapter of God’s general Plan, after which I hope to explore what this means for each of us. So far, we’ve discussed God’s nature and intention, both of which are critical to understand the basis of his plan. If this is a story, which it is (some stories are completely true while others are fantasies … you know where I stand on this one), it is a story with four chapters, the first three of which are Creation, Fall, and Redemption.

The fourth and final chapter actually begins while Chapter 3 is unfolding. There is an overlap and they continue to work in concert going forward. This may seem confusing but let’s try to work through that. While we are taking them in sequence as we should, they operate synergistically. (At the risk of getting too abstract, in actuality all four chapters are in motion at all times.)

So, to briefly recap and set the stage, a rational and all powerful God decided to bring into existence a reflection of who he is. We call this Creation and he had a plan for how that would unfold and develop. With respect to humans, he created us with the ability to make choices (we call that Free Will), knowing that it would be risky. We of course, chose to move away from God and continue to do so, breaking our original covenant, or contract, with God on how we should best relate to one another. We call this the Fall. Things got really messy and, despite God’s attempts to right the ship, humans kept on the pathway of rejection. God had two choices. He could kick us out of the house permanently, fully severing the relationship (there are all sorts of ways to describe what this could look like), or he could make one last-ditch effort to put things back on track. This latter effort would be to physically move the balance of the scales back from where one side had dropped by doing something supremely radical. With that radical act, discussed in Chapter 3, God set out to Redeem us back to him.

But, the story doesn’t end there. In fact, it’s being pulled back towards where it was always supposed to be. It’s as if the needle on the compass had stopped pointing to true north, was now wavering all over the place, and now there’s been a reset. The needle again points to true north.

So, what is True North? It is the title of Chapter 4: The Restoration.

Imagine the most beautiful vase you can picture. You truly treasure it. Perhaps it’s a Ming, constructed of the finest porcelain possible. It is adorned with the most exquisite scenes, perhaps of tiny birds and flowers, beautiful images. It’s simply breathtaking. But, not taking proper precautions, you pick it up to move it and you drop it, shattering it into hundreds of pieces, where they lay on the floor. Yes, you can still make out individual images in the big pieces and they are pretty but it is truly broken, unable to be the perfect vase it once was.

There is sadness and regret when contemplating what once was and what now is. You long to gaze on that thing of beauty again but it seems beyond repair. It is lost and you can feel it. It hurts. You save the pieces but as time goes on you think of them less and less as they collect dust or are hidden in some old paper bag on some obscure shelf in your home. You even forget the vase and never really recapture the experience you had when you used to gaze upon it. There remains but a faint echo of a thing once held dear.

Then, years later, a man shows up unexpectedly at your door. Curiously, he says that he has learned of your vase and wants to help. You find this incredibly odd and more than a little disturbing. How did he know? What does he really want? Can you trust him?

Something makes you listen and he says he can fix the vase. He can make the broken pieces whole again. You have no idea how he can do it for, of course, hundreds of pieces, some of which are large and some so small as to be difficult to see, can never be reworked to their former exquisite beauty. Any attempt will result in obvious scars. The vase is beyond total repair.

For some inexplicable reason, you are led to trust him, to give him the chance, to say yes to his offer to help. After all, what do you have to lose, especially since he says he will do it for free? You don’t have to do anything but to let him in and trust him. He says he’ll have to move in and this will take some time, which might be a little disruptive, but he promises that the disruption will be completely worth it. And, as he gently speaks, you begin to recall that precious vase, even if with just a vague sense and you agree to take the plunge. Perhaps for the first time in a long time you have a little bit of hope that things will be put to rights.

As you observe in the days that follow, you don’t really know how he is doing it. There seem to be things you can’t see as he fits the pieces together. You actually don’t even see how they are connected. There is no scar or glue that you can distinguish. You begin to marvel at a level of workmanship you could never have conceived as possible. Never. In fact he does something incredible. He takes your own hands, placing the individual pieces into them and, along with his hands, you watch as the entire process unfolds. Your trust deepens. You begin to feel joy and your hope blossoms.

Finally, there it is. There is no scar. No sign of brokenness. Perfect beauty reborn from shattered pieces.

This is a picture of Chapter 4. The Restoration of Creation. Bringing reality back to a place it was first designed to be.

Once redeemed, the big things that were out of whack can now be reworked to reflect their original purpose. The broken pieces are now available to be reformed. Their innate “brokenness” is no longer their defining characteristic. Remember about the vase. Their brokenness was even out of sight and out of mind for a long time. But the master craftsman called them back to mind, perhaps rekindling the knowledge of both what was and what happened. The master craftsman says “I can turn the nature of those pieces from being broken to being whole. Just trust me.” In essence, he says, “I am the Redeemer. Now, let us team together as we partner to restore things to where they should be.” You look everywhere and the enormity of the task seems impossible. But you have seen bits and pieces of what is possible so you say, “Yes, I accept. I want to help. I need you, though, by my side because I don’t know how to do this on my own.”

The four chapter story shouldn’t just be viewed as linear. Another way of thinking about it is to create a full circle. A kind of clock. As time goes forward, we move through the phases until the hand moves back up the left side and, once again, 12 is 12. Or, the arrow on the compass rose comes full circle back to true north. These are just visuals, of course and don’t come close to fully explain what is happening but they help give us a frame of reference.

If it is a circle, what defines the beginning and the end? Well, it is when we are in full communion with God. We live in the full presence of God and it is a thing of infinite beauty and joy. While God is wholly other than us, his unconditional love for us is 100% manifest, received, known and felt. Nothing can stand against it. Nothing. We cannot imagine it being different. The most beautiful image or event in our earthly life doesn’t even register on the scale of what is possible. The Restoration is complete. “It is finished.”

So, this is the story of God’s Plan. A fairy tale, would say some moderns. A delusion, would say others. But, what if it were true?

But, we are not done yet. For, as the master craftsman and you or I, with intertwined hands, bring this particular piece back to life, he turns and says, “We’re just getting started. You up for what comes next?” You can’t conceive of rejecting his offer so, with a heart full of love and hope you give the only possible reply. “Yes. I’m in.”

With that we move from the realm of God’s general plan to what the plan actually means for each of us. What God intends for me.

Next time.