This realization stirs a profound question within me: if we are invited into a relationship with God that resembles friendship—an equal partnership—does that diminish His majesty? Does viewing God as a friend risk making Him less awe-inspiring? Here, resistant or rigid theological perspectives can cloud our understanding. They may push us toward a conception of God as distant and unapproachable to preserve His majesty, but in doing so, they risk misunderstanding the nature of divine greatness. The truth is, God's majesty and His desire for fellowship are not mutually exclusive. What truly matters is not our efforts to meet His impossible standards through our own strength, but our honest acknowledgment of who He is. Faith, even as small as a mustard seed, is enough to move mountains—not because of our power, but because of God's. Consider the powerful imagery in the Revelation of John, where God's ultimate promise unfolds before us: He vows to come and share a meal with His followers. This promise is profound, not merely as a future event, but as a symbol of intimate relationship and divine fellowship. Traditionally, I was taught that God's holiness—His perfect purity, majesty, and transcendence—creates an insurmountable barrier that separates mortal beings from His divine presence. The idea was that our fragile, imperfect nature keeps us at a distance from the divine, and that true closeness with God is something we can only approach with reverence, awe, and perhaps trepidation. In this view, the divine "fellowship" was often seen as a distant, respectful communion rather than a warm, personal relationship—a relationship characterized by friendship, familiarity, and closeness. If we accept that no effort of ours can earn God's favor—if salvation and relationship are gifts rather than rewards—then our hope must rest in truly knowing God's true nature. The more we glimpse His majesty, the more we realize our dependence on Him. This dependence is not a sign of weakness but an acknowledgment of divine sovereignty. It offers countless opportunities to demonstrate our faith through trust and obedience. When we understand that all things are possible with God, we are also reminded that, within ourselves, everything remains beyond our reach. Both truths—God's limitless power and our humble limitations—are expressions of faith in motion. This raises further questions: does faith elevate us to a level where we can meet God's expectations? Does it grant us the power to do the impossible? If faith is supposed to empower us, then why do we often feel so limited? The answer lies in humility. We must recognize that God's greatness surpasses our understanding; our faith is not a tool to control the divine, but an act of trust—a letting go of our attempts to grasp or manipulate divine power. Faith opens us to participate in divine mystery, inviting us into fellowship and friendship with the Creator who transcends all our concepts. It is this humble trust, not our efforts, that allows us to experience divine closeness. In paraphrase, this expanded reflection emphasizes that God's promise to share a meal with us symbolizes a deep, personal relationship that transcends traditional notions of reverence and distance. It invites us to see that divine holiness can coexist with divine friendship—an invitation to draw near, trust, and be known. Our faith, no matter how small, is sufficient because it opens the door for God's grace to work in us and through us. Recognizing our limitations humbles us and leads us to a dependence on God's limitless power and mercy. Only then can we truly understand that salvation, forgiveness, and divine fellowship are gifts—impossible to earn but freely given—calling us into a relationship rooted in humility, trust, and awe. In witnessing God's fulfillment of His promises, despite our weaknesses, we encounter a God who responds compassionately to our openness and vulnerability. We may never fully grasp the depth of trust required to believe that He can make all things possible, nor fully understand the intimate fellowship He desires with us. Yet, in forgiving us, God reveals that our confidence rests more on His merciful character than on our own worthiness. To doubt His willingness to forgive is to overlook the profound grace of His acts—a grace that surpasses any effort we could make to earn it. True spiritual freedom arises when we realize that we cannot earn God's forgiveness; it is a gift rooted in His loving nature. Our trust is expressed through our ongoing communion with Him—acknowledging that He alone is deserving of forgiveness and that His mercy is unlimited. Since our acceptance by God depends not on our merit but on His gracious gift, we are called to lean entirely on His goodness and mercy. This dependence is a recognition that what lies beyond our human power is entirely within God's sovereignty. The real possibility for transformation and hope is awakened when we surrender our attempts to control or achieve divine favor and instead rely wholly on Him. However, when I reflect on this divine promise—God's vow to come and share a meal with us—I realize that the word "fellowship" might encompass more than just reverent proximity. It can also be understood as friendship: an intimate, trusting bond where there is closeness, mutual affection, and a sense of belonging. Just as we nurture friendships among ourselves—building trust, sharing life experiences, offering comfort and support—so too does this divine promise suggest a divine rapport that surpasses mere reverence. It hints at a relationship that is not only based on awe but also on love, companionship, and genuine connection. This insight challenges the traditional notion that God's holiness erects an unbridgeable barrier. Instead, it invites us to see that God's holiness is compatible with, and even invites, a deep fellowship—one that is rooted in love and friendship. This understanding shapes our view of free will as well. Exercising our freedom involves admitting our limitations and recognizing that some outcomes are beyond our independent ability to achieve. It is not a matter of lacking skill or effort, but of acknowledging that certain divine purposes are beyond our sole effort. We do not possess a percentage of ability that grants us the power to accomplish the impossible; rather, we understand that true power resides in God's hand alone. Our role is to trust and cooperate with His divine plan, not to manipulate or control it. Would you like me to further elaborate or focus on specific aspects?