I consider myself a bit of an amateur philosopher. Every now and then a weird idea will pop into my head and get me puzzling. Here’s one that recently captured my attention: Psalm 62:6 says, “He alone is my rock and my salvation.” (NIV) Now, the Bible is not saying that God is literally a stone, but rather that rocks have certain physical qualities, like strength and steadfastness, that mirror the strength and steadfastness of God.

            So wouldn’t it be interesting if, during Creation week, God were thinking: “I’m going to create this thing called a rock, and I’m going to make it with certain qualities that reflect my steadfast Nature—it’s going to be massive, hard, and basically indestructible. Then, I’m going to fill the earth with these rocks and surround my people with them. And then when I communicate my steadfastness to my people, I’m going to compare myself to these rocks, and then they’ll better understand my steadfastness.”

            You see, we often tend to interpret verses like this as comparing God to a rock. But I think it’s more accurate to say that we’re actually comparing a rock to God. We don’t say that a rock is the standard for steadfastness, and God measures up to it, we say that God is the eternal standard for steadfastness, and a rock measures up to Him in some small way.

            God was here first. He isn’t modeled after the things of this world, He modeled the things of this world after Himself. He is the standard by which all things are measured. And I’ve discovered recently that this simple idea—God is the standard—affects my faith way more specifically than I first thought. I’ve realized that God is the standard for what we base our faith on, how we defend our faith, and how we live out our faith. As we look at each of these in turn, we’ll see how much this principle—God is the standard for our faith—affects what we believe and how we live.

            The question of what I base my faith on has followed me around since I was little, because I’m the type of person who’s always wondering “why?” When I was about 12, my “why’s” turned away from simple questions like “why do I have to eat my broccoli?” and I started asking “why” about my faith. How could I know that God is real? What standard could I appeal to to prove that Christianity is true? I decided to use logic and evidence as my standard.

            I devoured all the logical arguments, scientific discoveries, and archaeological finds that I could wrap my brain around. I memorized the [Kalaam] Cosmological Argument, popularized by apologist William Lane Craig: Whatever begins to exist has a cause, the universe began to exist, therefore, the universe must have a cause, and we call him God. I researched the in’s and out’s of Hank Hanegraaff’s acronym for the historical reliability of the Bible, M.A.P.S.: Manuscript evidence, Archaeology, Prophecy, and Statistics.

            This logic and evidence worked fine for a while. I was reasonably convinced. But I eventually realized that there was a problem. God seemed distant, because I was starting somewhere else and reasoning to Him.

            Let’s say you asked me how I know my dad exists. And imagine if I responded, “Well, my dad is the best explanation for the way things are. The bills keep getting paid, his laundry keeps coming through the wash, and whenever we eat dinner the spoon at his spot goes up and down over and over again and the soup in his bowl disappears.” We see how ridiculous this is. If you know someone, you don’t have to reduce him to an “explanation of spoon movement.” But I somehow thought I needed to do this with God.

            This way of thinking is backwards. Romans 1:18–19 says “For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men who suppress the truth in unrighteousness, because that which is known about God is evident within them; for God made it evident to them.” (NASB) You, and I, and everyone knows that God exists, whether we acknowledge it or not, because He has made us know it. He is the definition of Truth; relying on any other standard to “prove God”—arguments, evidence, philosophy, science—makes God subordinate to His own creation.

            Think about it this way: we all recognize that “I believe the Bible because my parents say it’s true” is weak support. But, “I believe the Bible because Josh McDowell says it's historically reliable” is also basing the Word of God on the scholarship of men. Now, don’t get me wrong: true academia does agree with Christianity, but it is not the standard on which our faith rests.

            As Proverbs 1:7 says, “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge,” (NASB) and last time I checked, beginnings always come first. God is not a rung on the ladder of truth, needing other standards to hold Him up. God is the self-sufficient foundation. I know He exists because he has made it evident within me. I need no other standard. And I’ve learned to never make the word of man the justification for the Word of God.

            Not only is God the standard upon which we base our faith, but He’s also the standard when we defend our faith. I was on a bike ride around the block a couple months ago, and I stopped to talk to a friendly gentleman who was taking a walk. We got to talking about the really hard year we’ve all experienced, and when I brought up the fact that none of this took God by surprise, he suddenly interrupted me with a question: “Why? Why? If God knew this was going to happen, why didn't He stop it?”

            There’s an inherent problem with this question: it’s the question of “who’s the standard?” This gentleman—a finite, fallible human being—was criticizing God… the infinite, infallible, universal standard of morality, because God’s actions didn’t make sense to him. In other words, “I am the standard of what is right, and because God doesn’t ‘measure up’ to my standard, therefore God is wrong.” Doesn’t that seem a little backwards?

            So, I answered this gentleman by pointing out that he is not God’s judge. Sure, many things that God does don’t make sense…to us. But we aren’t the standard! God is the standard for truth and morality, God is our Judge, and it is up to us whether we choose to keep trying to climb onto the judicial bench and accuse God for not being the way we want Him to be, or realize that because He is the Standard, whatever He does is right and any criticism of Him is wrong. We can rest in the fact that He works all things for the good of those who love Him.

            This may seem unfair. Don’t reasonable people deserve explanations to reasonable questions? Not always. As Paul says in Romans 9:20: “But who are you, O man, to talk back to God? Shall what is formed say to him who formed it, ‘Why did you make me like this?’” (NIV)

            As I defend my faith against objections, I’m learning to never back away from God as the standard. I don’t have to try to defend God or make Him fit anyone’s preconceived notions of what He should be like. He is Truth; anything that contradicts Him is a lie.

            So, God is the standard for justifying and defending our faith. But I’ve also realized recently that He is the standard for living out my faith. His opinion of what I do is the only one that truly matters.

            Recently, I met an older lady taking a walk. I started to talk about how Jesus Christ gave me hope through tough times, but I hadn’t gotten two complete sentences out when she half-angrily interrupted me: “You aren’t going to preach to me, are you?” I was a bit startled, so I told her no, I just wanted to share the good news, and I biked off feeling a bit shaken. Part of me wanted to ride straight home, put my bike away, and go inside.

            But I realized that this random lady was not the standard for whether I was doing the right thing or not. God is the standard, and I was serving Him.

            I decided to keep biking, and I ended up getting into a long conversation with another one of my neighbors who was out for a walk. We talked about the Bible, and I got to explain the plan of salvation. I see now that if I had decided that the upset lady was my standard for whether I was doing the right thing, I likely would have missed out on an amazing opportunity God had for me. I’ve realized that the minute I stop caring what other people think of me is the minute God can truly begin to use me.

            But it works the other way, too. Just like God is my standard when other people disapprove, God is also my standard when other people approve.

            I’ve played the piano for over 9 years, and I’ve been able to learn some fancy pieces and compose some catchy tunes. And sometimes prideful thoughts float through my head as I think about my accomplishments. When this happens, however, I realize I’ve missed the whole point. As God told the prophet Samuel in 1 Samuel 16:7, “The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” (NIV) Even if my music earns the approval of other people, if my heart is not right with God and I’m not giving Him the glory, then I am not pleasing Him.

            This is a sobering reality: it’s better to play “Old MacDonald” with a heart full of thanks to God and be ignored by everyone else, than to pound out Chopin’s Fantaisie-Impromptu to a slack-jawed audience, but with a heart of selfish pride. Now, obviously I still play and compose to my maximum ability, but I try to keep in mind that my heart condition is what truly matters. In any subject, any competition, any activity, priority number 1 is to glorify Him. Priority number 2 is to succeed. Why? Because God is my standard. Not other people.

            Now, a rock isn’t very insulted when I say that it isn’t the standard for steadfastness. But my logical mind’s self-esteem did drop when I realized that arguments aren’t the standard for my faith. The gentleman questioning God's love was probably not that pleased when I said that he wasn’t the standard for morality, the upset lady was definitely not pleased that I considered God to be the standard and not her, and my pride has suffered after I realized that the heart, not the music, is the most important aspect of being a musician. Realizing that God is the standard upon which we base our faith, by which we defend our faith, and according to which we live out our faith is a painful reality. It’s part of what it means to walk the narrow road.

            But looking on ahead, I can see why it is this way. Because when we enter Heaven, we all want to hear Matthew 25:21: “Well done, good and faithful servant.” (NIV) Whom will we hear it from?

            Not our friends. Not the random ladies on our street. Not ourselves. If we hear it, we’ll hear it from God. I want to be good and faithful in His eyes, because He is the standard.

– Soli Deo Gloria