O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you;
my soul thirsts for you;
my flesh faints for you,
as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.

Psalm 63:1

Augustine once wrote to God in The Confessions, “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.” East of Eden and under the sun, we all feel a painful longing for the transcendent, on the one hand, and a frustrating sense of inadequacy of earthly things to satisfy that longing, on the other.

David felt this longing and rightly turned to the only one who could satisfy him (Psa. 63). When we feel this same sense of emptiness and longing do we know where to turn? We discern our inward wretchedness and conclude rightly that we cannot cure it. We know we each have an appointment with death that we cannot escape. The question is, what do we do in the face of such sober realities?

Far too often, in order to get through the day and avoid despair, we divert ourselves from thinking too seriously about such matters. What is behind our constant need to be entertained and stimulated by technology and hobbies every spare moment of the day? Why can’t we sit in silence and rest alone with our thoughts? This propensity to constantly check our phones and be entertained is more than silly and frivolous. These are attempts to escape despair, boredom and anxiety through diversion, further highlighting our profound need for something this world cannot offer.

This idea, which Blaise Pascal and C. S. Lewis explored extensively, has been summarized by a “God-shaped vacuum.” We were created to live lives of freedom, peace, joy and satisfaction all under our Creator’s loving authority and in his perfect presence. But in our broken world in which we are out of sync with the One who made us, there are only traces of this joy left. These vestiges of earthly goodness cannot fulfill us. The presence of legitimate human desires, such as hunger and thirst, indicate that satisfaction for those desires exists. But, to paraphrase Lewis, if we find within us a desire that this world cannot satisfy—a spiritual thirst—then we must look beyond this world for satisfaction.

The writer of Ecclesiastes observes that “[God] has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put eternity into man's heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.” (Ecc. 3:11) We long for this “eternity.”

Though God is transcendent, “he is actually not far from each one of us.” He has placed us within his creation to “seek after him and perhaps feel [our] way toward him and find him.” (Acts 17:27) He provides evidence of his goodness in the gifts he gives every day: “he did good by giving you rains from heaven and fruitful seasons, satisfying your hearts with food and gladness.” (Acts 14:17) These gifts were meant to be enjoyed but also to act as signs pointing to their divine source. The thing about earthly appetites is that once one is satisfied another will come to take its place: “All the toil of man is for his mouth, yet his appetite is not satisfied.” (Ecc. 6:7)

This inability of earthly things to fully satisfy us points us toward heaven. However, this feeling of inner emptiness is no post-dated check only to be cashed at some point in the distant future in heaven. God came down from heaven to earth so that we could begin to experience eternal life and spiritual renewal here and now: “Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life. He does not come into judgment, but has passed from death to life.” (Jn. 5:24) Jesus came to both purify and satisfy our desires. He fills our emptiness “with all the fullness of God” (Eph. 3:19; see 2 Tim. 2:20-21) and satisfies our deepest longings with his steadfast love (Psa. 16:11; 81:16; 90:14; 145:15).

The Lord saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every intention of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually. And the Lord regretted that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart. So the Lord said, “I will blot out man whom I have created from the face of the land, man and animals and creeping things and birds of the heavens, for I am sorry that I have made them.” But Noah found favor in the eyes of the Lord… Noah was a righteous man, blameless in his generation. Noah walked with God.…  Now the earth was corrupt in God's sight, and the earth was filled with violence. And God saw the earth, and behold, it was corrupt, for all flesh had corrupted their way on the earth. And God said to Noah, “I have determined to make an end of all flesh, for the earth is filled with violence through them. Behold, I will destroy them with the earth. Make yourself an ark…”

Genesis 6:5-9, 11-14a

Noah lived in a world of chaos and corruption, a world in which humanity had fallen far from the God in whose image and likeness they were created. Imagine trying to live faithfully, raise children and protect a family in such a world. In response to this human wickedness,  the heart of God was “grieved.” The verb here can carry different senses depending on the context: (1) to be injured (Psa. 56:5; Ecc. 10:9; 1 Chr. 4:10); (2) to experience emotional pain; to be depressed or worried (2 Sam. 19:2; Isa. 54:6; Neh. 8:10-11); to be embarrassed or offended to the point of anger; to be insulted (Gen. 34:7; 45:5; 1 Sam. 20:3, 34; 1 Kgs. 1:6; etc.). There may be several aspects to God’s grief but human sin did not merely wound God emotionally; it prompted him to strike out in purifying judgment against the source of his grief (v.7). This terrifying story of divine judgment also teaches us comforting truths about God’s character and the human condition.

God is just, therefore salvation is needed — God is patient but his justice cannot allow evil to continue unchecked. In the New Testament, the flood is used as a type of the final judgment to come (Mt. 26:36-41; 2 Pet. 2:5). While it is certainly good news that evil will not get the last word, our situation before such perfect justice is imperiled. No one can stand before God justified on his own (Rom. 3:21-26). Therefore, God’s justice highlights our need for salvation.

God is gracious, therefore salvation is provided — How did Noah find “favor in the eyes of the Lord”? The passage speaks of Noah’s righteous character in verse 9. In contrast to the evil world, Noah was “blameless” and “walked with God.” The point is not that he was sinless and, thus, deserved salvation but that he lived in such a way as to be in fellowship with God. Noah lived “by faith” (Heb. 11:7). This squares with the larger biblical picture of salvation coming “by grace through faith” (Eph. 2:8-9). As God pronounced long ago, “The righteous shall live by his faith” (Heb. 2:4; cf. Rom. 1:17; Gal. 3:11; Heb. 10:38; Jn. 3:36). God is gracious and provided salvation in Christ to all (Titus 2:11), but he determined that his gift of salvation can only be accessed by faith (Rom. 1:16).

God is powerful, therefore salvation is effective — The flood also demonstrates God’s might. The world he created through water is now unmade through water. God’s power in judgment is equal to his power in salvation. In fact, God’s salvation often comes through judgment, not apart from it. Noah’s safety in the ark points to our salvation in Christ—the true Ark. Our salvation is effective because of the security of the Ark that is Jesus Christ (1 Pet. 3:20-22). That is, Christ and his achievements are the foundation for our confidence in being saved from God’s just judgment, a judgment which will come not through water but fire (2 Pet. 3:8-13). Therefore, like Noah, we must be sure we are “in the Ark” and warn others of the coming judgment, beckoning them to Christ with loving urgency (2 Pet. 2:5). God is just, gracious and powerful.

Then the Pharisees went and plotted how to entangle him in his words. And they sent their disciples to him, along with the Herodians, saying, “Teacher, we know that you are true and teach the way of God truthfully, and you do not care about anyone's opinion, for you are not swayed by appearances. Tell us, then, what you think. Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar, or not?” But Jesus, aware of their malice, said, “Why put me to the test, you hypocrites? Show me the coin for the tax.” And they brought him a denarius. And Jesus said to them, “Whose likeness and inscription is this?” They said, “Caesar's.” Then he said to them, “Therefore render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's.” When they heard it, they marveled. And they left him and went away.

(Matthew 22:15-22)

In the above text, Jesus simultaneously escapes a trap and teaches a valuable lesson. The Pharisees and Herodians, normally at odds with one another, team up to trip up the Lord. Their question expects an either/or answer but Jesus gives a both/and answer (“fear God, honor Emperor” 1 Pet. 2:17). But what’s all this about coins? Jesus points to the image of Tiberius on the coin for the poll tax (Greek εἰκών, eikōn). This is the same Greek word used in the Septuagint translation (LXX) of Genesis 1:26-28 which speaks of God creating humanity in his “image.” Jesus makes a subtle and powerful contrast: since Caesar’s image is stamped on the coin, he can lay claim to money through taxation; but since God’s image is stamped on us, he can lay claim to our whole lives (Mt. 22:36-38).

What is the “image” of God within us? It consists of those faculties that distinguish us from the rest of creation. These are things that make us unlike animals and like God. All creation is reflective of the Creator but humans uniquely reflect God. There are at least five dimensions to the divine image within us.

Rational: ability to think — Humans can reason. We are told “be not like a horse or a mule, without understanding” (Psa. 32:9). Though animals have rudimentary intelligence, they don’t share our complex rationality, wisdom and understanding.

Moral: ability to choose — We have a will. That is, we are moral beings who can distinguish between right and wrong (Gen. 2:16f). Humans are imbued with the unique quality of free moral choice.

Social: ability to love — We are emotional beings made for relationship. This is reflected in the plurality of God and the plurality of humanity (male and female, Gen. 1:26). God exists in eternal communion with himself (Father, Son, Spirit). God is love and we reflect God most accurately when we love God and our neighbor (Mt. 22:37-40).

Creative: ability to work — We don’t just exist within creation, we are given jurisdiction to rule over it, yet under God (Gen. 1:28; Psa. 8:3-8). We bear God’s image by using that ruling power to make full use of the amazing potential of creation. We farm fields, build houses, grow families and communities, invent and create. The Hebrew word for “image” (Gen. 1:28) is translated “idol” in most places. Idol statues were often placed in temples to represent the gods (Ex. 20:4-5a). In contrast, humans are God’s living “images” placed in the temple of his creation to represent him and rule on his behalf. Exercising godly dominion is a uniquely human vocation.

Spiritual: ability to worship — Lastly, we were created to be in perfect communion with God. He is described as “walking in the garden” among humans in the beginning (Gen. 3:8). Ultimately, we are fashioned, body and spirit, for that fellowship (Gen. 2:7).

But underneath all this is an intrinsic quality of being human that has nothing to do with ability. Simply by virtue of being human we are made in God’s image, a fact that has far reaching implications. Though God’s image within us has been corrupted by sin it can be fully restored through Christ, who is “the image of God” (Col. 1:15).

And he sat down opposite the treasury and watched the people putting money into the offering box. Many rich people put in large sums. And a poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which make a penny. And he called his disciples to him and said to them, “Truly, I say to you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the offering box. For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.”

Mark 12:41-44

At first glance, this story seems to teach a straightforward positive lesson: give sacrificially like the widow. Jesus clearly commends her wholehearted devotion and generosity. There are lessons here about the heart of the giver in contrast to the amount given, what God can do with “two copper coins,” what God values as opposed to what man values, the trust and love toward God that motivate our giving, and importance of sacrificial giving (see 2 Sam. 24:24). However, there is more to this story than meets the eye.

Part of what a text means is the context in which it is given. The synoptic writers—Matthew, Mark, and Luke—all record this story. And in each of the books, the stories which come immediately before and after the widow’s offering help us interpret it.

What comes before: the greed and hypocrisy of the wealthy religious elite (Mk. 12:38-40) — Matthew gives a more detailed account of Jesus’ rebuke of the scribes (Mt. 23) but Luke’s and Mark’s condensed version makes the same point. Scribes and widows occupied opposite ends of the social spectrum in Jewish society. Scribes who taught and interpreted the Law of Moses sat near the top, with widows, to whom God expresses particular care in the Law (along with orphans and foreigners), at the bottom. The disciples must “beware” of the example of the scribes. Why?

The scribes were only concerned with appearance. Not only do they fail to express any loving concern for vulnerable widows, they actually “devour widow’s houses.” Their long prayers are merely a pretext for showing concern for the very people they defraud. Jesus’ judgment against them is ironic: instead of receiving “greater” wealth and honor in society (which they were seeking), they will receive “greater” condemnation from God. This poor, unnamed widow, probably didn’t own any fancy clothes, was probably more concerned with affording food at the market than receiving special greetings there, and probably didn’t get invitations to sit in the best seats at the synagogue or the places of honor at banquets. While the greedy, hypocritical scribes fancied themselves the spiritual leaders and important members of society, people like this self-sacrificial widow were the real spiritual backbone of Israel.

What comes after: the certain destruction of the temple (Mk. 13:1-2) — The widow made her offering on the temple grounds which led the disciples to remark on its beauty. Herod the Great’s construction project to enlarge, refurbish, and beautify the temple took 46 years to complete. The result was impressive. But in response, Jesus shockingly declares the temple’s utter destruction. Haggai describes the building of the temple as “stone placed upon stone” (Hag. 2). Jesus describes its destruction as no stone being left on another. Why would God abandon such an impressive structure dedicated to his glory? Because, just like the religious hypocrites, the temple was beautiful on the outside but rotten on the inside. The story of the widow’s offering was just one example.

The temple treasury was set up in such a way that it fed off those who could not fend for themselves. Instead of caring for people like the widow, the scribes and wealthy religious elite devoured them. The contrasting lesson is negative: don’t be like the scribes and the wealthy religious who give to be seen by others, neglect the poor, and perpetuate a system which disadvantages the less fortunate.

“Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted.”

Psalm 25:16

We are living through an epidemic of loneliness. The more technology connects us, the more that same technology, far from breeding intimacy, creates a gulf between us. While the reach of our communication has never been broader, the depth of our communication has never been shallower. Research consistently shows that one of the top issues facing young people today is loneliness. Exacerbated by social media, technological dependence and addiction, this epidemic is warping our idea of healthy relationships and what it means to be human.

Jonathan Franzen’s 2015 novel, Purity, tells the story of Purity “Pip” Taylor. In the opening, Purity is working in a coffee shop and meets a man she finds attractive. She begins to wonder about developing some kind of relationship with him. During the course of their conversation, Purity asks herself, “Dare I risk the intimacy of friendship? Or shall I retreat to the relative safety of casual sex?” The protagonist’s musing is a reflection of the twisted contemporary view of relationships, where a physical relationship is seen as less risky (and, because it is so perverted, less intimate) than friendship.

We are so unused to relating to others as fellow image-bearers of God that the intimacy of friendship feels threatening. We are caught between the desire to be known and loved and the fear of being known and loved. The result is that we have become terribly lonely.

This epidemic can be traced, in part, to a low view of others. We are conditioned to evaluate others on purely physical terms, viewing only “the outward appearance” (1 Sam. 16:7). This dehumanization objectifies people made in God’s image. An object is something to be consumed for personal benefit; the relationship between a person and an object is one of consumption. But the relationship between two people is a connection where there is mutual benefit.

This objectification is evident not just in how we view others but also in how we view ourselves. Professionals are taught to “market” themselves, as if they were a brand, a program or a car. We are losing sight of what it means to be human by reducing ourselves and others to objects. Thus, our desire for connection and intimacy goes unsatisfied. What can be done to cure such an epidemic? Jesus said that he came so that we “may have life and have it abundantly” (Jn. 10:10). How can we access this abundant life?

Our relationship with God — First, we must address the primary relationship for which we were created. When we are disconnected from our Creator, the one in whose image and likeness we were made, nothing can be done to cure our emptiness and loneliness. Though our sins separate us from God, he provided access to himself through Jesus Christ. When this relationship is repaired, then our humanity can begin to be restored (Col. 3:5-17).

Our relationship with others — The gospel of Christ trains us to see others through God’s eyes: “from now on… we regard no one according to the flesh… if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.” (2 Cor. 5:16-17) Christ helps us see ourselves and others as fellow image-bearers of God, leading to a humble view of ourselves and a high regard for others (Phil. 2:3-4). This proper perspective opens the door to sincerity, love and the intimacy of true friendship.

Our relationship with technology — Following Christ also helps us put technology in its proper place. ““All things are lawful for me,” but not all things are helpful. “All things are lawful for me,” but I will not be dominated by anything.” (1 Cor. 6:12) While technology serves a purpose, we must be wise to its dangers and refuse to become enslaved by it. God has given us the power to put down our phones and take up abundant life in Christ Jesus.