God and the Grotesque

"When sentimentalism separates the grotesque from the sovereign goodness of God, we are on our way to Auschwitz. It is a great irony that in rejecting God, in defense of a less grotesque humanity, we become hideous as we cleanse the world of imperfections." ~ John Piper

I can't shake the thoughts simmering in the shadows of my heart over this quote.  If only they remained thoughts, perhaps I could disquiet them. If they grew from fear, I could turn away. But it's something far worse. It's truth that faces me square. 

See, I wonder how we close down all those psychiatric hospitals with no back up plan.  We pretend that those afflicted with such perplexing brain diseases can all recover. We even celebrate this idea because it sounds so nice and optimistic.  I mean, who wants to be a downer? Who wants to be the one in the room that says it might not get better than this and the treatment may be as hard as the disease?

Because we all want our children to stop hurting, right?  And if they can't, well maybe we can live in denial because at least we can put it out if our minds and tell ourselves that at least we tried.

Maybe we can fool ourselves and make believe the beautiful terrible is half of this, just beautiful. And everyone can live in the big open wide community with no supports, no effort, no restraining measures that infringe on the beautiful half as we ignore the terrible, the awful.

But if all else fails, the streets are too hot, the group home only temporary, you know there's always that prison cell.  It's dark in there and no one will see. Because you earned this place when you messed up and your distorted delusions and fragmented thoughts told you about something that wasn't really true.

No we don't want to try medicine either, especially if you don't want it. Even though it could bring you back.  Because then we'd have to admit there was a terrible part. And we couldn't pretend anymore.  And it would make us have to face things and feel pain. We might have to endure. To suffer with you. And we couldn't blame your mom and dad anymore.

Because, you see, then we might ultimately have to face that this life is not all there is. And that God really did come down to this fallen place, became a man ~ yet still God, and live as the only perfect sufferer. To die in our place, to bear the wrath of God that we deserve, because our sin really is that hideous before this Holy God. We might have to face that we need to be saved from something and that the cost was just as ghastly. That those nails really did penetrate the arms and feet of Him...

...Him who healed the blind, the lame, and the man at Garasenes who was out of his mind. With the beautiful, terrible.

We might have to face that only He can fix us..the only One who fixed the beautiful terrible.

Born to die. For ugly awful sinners such as us. To win us back with the fiercest love because we were lost and frozen in our darkness, suspended, trapped in our transgressions.

You see there is absolutely no separating of the grotesque from the goodness of God, with God. We can face it. Because God is just that good, and we were just that grotesque.

See the nails, the thorns and that cross. Tell me it isn't true.