The Unseen Hand

To say that something was “providential” can sometimes become freighted with such saccharine optimism that it undercuts what we are confessing. Trusting in God’s providence isn’t reserved for the Pollyannas or the dreamers. Rather, it is the default posture of the Body of Christ, that is, it is the posture that faith engenders. Indeed, the preaching of the Word fosters an ever clearer grip of the providential grace and mercy of God as the only lifeline for those who believe, without which we’d be left rudderless. Navigating our frightfully volatile days is already troublesome enough, let alone without the steadying force of faith in a God whose governance extends over, well, everything. This, as Brad East wrote in a recent essay for Christianity Today, isn’t “an empirical doctrine,” nor, as he goes on to say, is it “a reasonable guess based on the way our lives go.”

Neither of those notions constitutes the biblical conviction of God’s providence, which is neither hypothetical nor observable, at least in the present tense. This is, perhaps, what makes it such an enigmatic, albeit pivotal, part of our faith. There are mysteries unfolding within every second of our lives, ones that are authored by the Author and Finisher of our faith. And rarely, if ever, are we able to discern the contours of this gracious providence. If we are afforded that gift, it only happens in hindsight. In other words, providence is seen after the fact, when the dust settles, and the light dawns at the “first light on the fifth day.” It’s been at work the whole time, but we are only privy to its effects when it bursts through and carries forward some deeper, truer purpose.

One of the best examples of providence at work occurs in Chapter 2 of the Book of Exodus, when a three-month-old Moses cruises down the Nile in an ark made of reeds and pitch. The course of events that led baby Moses from that makeshift craft to the arms of Pharaoh’s daughter and back to the arms of his mother is so far-fetched it borders on incredulous. From the timing of Jochebed placing her infant in the river to Pharaoh’s daughter venturing there to bathe to Moses’s sister watching it all unfold from afar to everyone’s agreement to have a woman, who “happened” to be the baby’s mom, nurse the child for Pharaoh’s daughter. The layer of coincidences in so short a span of time is like a coating of buttercream that’s a little too thick.

But, of course, none of what unfolded that afternoon was by chance. It was God’s providence at work — a work that, significantly, could only be ascertained as an elderly Moses began to author the history of the Israelites, and the Lord’s unique involvement in every era of it, when he sat down to write what is now known as the Pentateuch. All those twists and turns, and tragedies and failures, never caught the God of providence off guard. Rather, those who belong to him likewise confess that it is only by his unseen hand that all the gnarly, grievous knots of life East of Eden are unkinked to accomplish his saving purposes. This has always been a tenet of God’s followers, whether they can see it or not. Indeed, this is part of the profession to which the church is urged to hold fast (Heb. 4:14; 6:18; 10:23).

This gets to the heart of what the writer of Hebrews says about Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, all of whom “died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar” (Heb. 11:13). They might not have been able to make sense of it in their lifetimes, but each of them clung to the word of promise uttered by the God of providence, who assured them that through their descendants the whole world would be blessed. No one could’ve imagined, though, that God’s blessing would be dispensed by way of the horrors of Roman crucifixion. Here, too, we are reminded that amid the atrocities and sheer embarrassment that is the cross, faith in a God of providence perceives that even the death of all hope isn’t enough to disturb what he has ordered.

Trusting in the God of such gracious providence is what led Peter to proclaim that Jesus of Nazareth was “delivered up” to be crucified “according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God” (Acts 2:23). As atrocious as that sight was, it wasn’t unexpected. Not to the triune God. To believe that something is providential, therefore, is to make “a confession of faith in God incarnate, the God of Calvary,” as Brad East goes on to say, “whose death on a cross seemed to almost every onlooker to refute his message.” He continues:

Providence, in short, makes a promise. It says that human history may sometimes seem like one long crucifixion, but at the end of it lies an empty tomb. Confidence in providence thus begets perseverance. It takes God at his word, no matter how dark life becomes . . . providence is a call not for speculation but for action. It is a gospel truth built on the rock of Good Friday and Easter Sunday, meant for our consolation and hope in the face of trials, sufferings, and calamities. Providence names a mystery deep in the heart of the church’s life, one that explains her courage, her boldness, her stubborn refusal to shrink back from faith. Providence is a secret whispered from one martyr to another until the end of time.

Far from being some sort of sentimental gloss by which all of life’s troubles are understood, providence pervades our faith as that which God in Christ has been working out from the beginning of time. It is the steadfast assurance that the God who delivered Moses from the river and raised Jesus from the grave is the same God who is involved in every moment of our lives. Maybe you just can’t see it right now, but one day, you will.


Bradley Gray

Bradley Gray serves as the senior pastor of Stonington Baptist Church in Paxinos, Pennsylvania, where he lives with his wife Natalie and their three children, Lydia, Braxton, and Bailey. He is the author of Finding God in the Darkness: Hopeful Reflections from the Pits of Depression, Despair, and Disappointment and is a regular contributor for 1517 and Mockingbird. He also blogs regularly at www.graceupongrace.net.


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