In our Wednesday night children's worship time, we are discussing the names of God. The kids have been drawing pictures showing the names of God, and the symbolism that goes with them. One of my favorite drawings was done by a boy named Daniel:
I asked Daniel to explain his drawing to me. He told me that one arm was God's, the other was man's, and their hands are touching. I asked what the shiny gold part was, and Daniel couldn't explain that part as easily. He said it is what happens when the two hands touch.
As soon as I saw Daniel's picture, it reminded me of another famous piece of art. This one, of course, painted a few hundred years ago on the ceiling of a church:
Perhaps the most fascinating part of this painting is that Adam (on the left) is so lackadaisical about reaching toward his Creator, while the entire body of God is stretched as far as it can go. Well done, Mr. Michelangelo.
Maybe I'm influenced by the five-month sermon series of Revelation that our church is finishing up, but I like to think of this painting and Daniel's drawing as a before-and-after sort of thing. Imagine the shiny golden glory that will occur when God finally obliterates that space between his hand and ours. Our pastor told us this morning that many scholars find it difficult to distinguish when John, in Revelation 21, is writing about believers and when he is writing about the New Jerusalem itself. It seems that, when God creates the new world, He, the saints, and the City will all be united perfectly.
That's a lot of shiny-golden-goodness. Looking forward to it.
