Riding The Thin Line

Last night I took my 7-year old son Joshua to his first Sox game at Fenway. The look in his eyes when I told him that I had got him tickets was worth everything. When I told him we were taking the subway into the game, he got even more excited.

So . . . .we're riding the T last night and he's talking and taking it all in and having the time of his life. I can literally feel his joy. As we passed a stop in the middle of town, a thought suddenly occurred to me. I can make the best night of his life the worst, by stepping out the door of the subway car just before it closes, leaving him alone. I don't know why this thought came to me, I would never, ever do that to anyone, but for some reason I realized the tenuousness in life between absolute joy and abject horror - and it's a very thin line.

For Josh, the thin line was simple: my presence. As long as I was there, even in the middle of the chaos of a crowded subway car, it was the best night of his life. If I suddenly disappeared, it would immediately turn into the absolute worst moment he'd ever experience. My presence was the difference.

While thinking about this I almost started to cry for him, for what he would feel if that did happen. I would do anything to protect and stay with him, to keep him in his joy, to let him rest secure. I wrapped my arm around him, without saying anything, just to give him a physical reminder that I was there. He looked up at me and smiled . . . . All is well.

I thought of God - how He loves us and promises to never leave and forsake us. How He desires to wrap Himself around us, if we would only let Him. I thought of how horrific my life would be if He suddenly stepped away just before a door closed, leaving me alone in this chaos. My feeling for keeping Josh close must be exactly how He feels about us, knowing what our life is like without Him.

I thought of His feelings for the people of this world, His children. Just as I wanted to cry at even the thought of Josh going through a terrifying moment without me, He must feel the same about His children that reject Him. He knows what they will ultimately experience as a result of this rejection. If I felt a pang of sorrow over what Josh would possibly go through without me, imagine what He feel knowing what they will definitely go through without Him. Jesus was a 'man of sorrows' and that has to be a part of it.

Hell is the absence of God. Heaven is His abiding presence. I got a little glimpse of that through my son's eyes last night.

And to top it all off, Big Papi hit a home run.

Immediate Test

So - do I really believe what I ended my last post with? That I simply wanted to be a "drink offering" and didn't care if I received any glory or blessing as long as the work went forward. The work of healing?

Well, God didn't take long to put that thought to the test and I FAILED.

I met someone who I had been counseling through some bad times in their life. They had been on the brink of complete destruction so it there were many nights of phone calls and meetings. I met with this person through these dark times and then I saw them the other day and it was evident that a healing had taken place. Their countenance had changed, they were testifying to God's power and it was awesome.

But I failed the test when they explained how it happened: This person went for a couple of days to another ministry and something clicked inside of them and God moved them out of the darkness and into the light. I felt a pang in my heart - I had spent countless hours and now they were giving this other ministry glory for helping them through - in one moment of light. Of course, they were thankful for the time I had been with them, but still . . . why couldn't it have been through me that this breakthrough occurred?

And so - I failed the test. The blessing of the "work" isn't the only outcome I desire, the blessing of the "worker" is still embedded in my heart. I see it clearly, I just can't overcome it. Yet.

Jesus said first remove the log from your own eye - and I am on a quest to know how. (A minor detail that He happened to leave out of the Sermon.) Sanctification is one tough process.

The Blessing of the Work, Not the Worker

James 1: 22 “Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like a man who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like. But the man who looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom, and continues to do this, not forgetting what he has heard, but doing it—he will be blessed in what he does.”

When we are living out our faith by helping others we often have underlying motives that betray us. We want to be blessed in who we are. But this passage in James says something else - it says we will be blessed in what we do. That's a big difference. The action we are performing - feeding the poor, counseling a brother or sister, visiting the sick - that will be blessed.

If we truly want to be an effective ambassador of Christ in this world, if we truly want to see people healed, then this is exactly what we want the promise to be. That the work will be blessed, not the workers. It goes against every popular teaching. It goes against the desires of my flesh. It cuts across the nerve center of my natural man. I want to be lifted up in my self-sacrificial ministry. I want to receive the praise of man.

Jesus states in John 5:41 - 44: "I do not accept praise from men, but I know you, I know that you do not have the love of God in your hearts. I have come in My Father's name, and you do not accept Me; but if someone else comes in his own name, you will accept him. How can you believe if you accept praise from one another, yet make no effort to obtain the praise that comes from the only God?"

Do you see what Jesus is saying? He is saying that when we are seeking the praise of man, we do not have the love of God in our hearts, we have the love man! We will accept words from men and we will accept their praise, but we do not seek out the praise of God. Jesus says that in this case . . . . . we don't really believe. So, just to get this straight, when we are seeking the praise and acceptance of man, we don't really believe, and we don't have the love of God. In a moment of honesty, I would have to admit that this is one of my biggest hurdles. I want the praise of man. I want their acceptance. I have to be broken of this for any fruitful ministry to take place in my life.

My goal for this year is to be a true Drink Offering. The drink offering was poured on the sacrifice and burned into it, never to be seen again. The only thing that was seen was The Sacrifice. We become part of the aroma, that's all. But that's good enough for me, because II Corinthians 2:15 tells us that the aroma of Christ brings healing and life to those who are seeking Him. So what if no one ever notices me . . . . the work will be blessed.

I want the work to be blessed. I want to see people healed, lives changed, the lost come to Christ, the poor fed and clothed, the church united, relationships mended, forgiveness poured out, . . . I want to see THAT happen. I don't want or need to be lifted up in the process. I don't need to be blessed for who I am. When I'm walking in the Spirit, I want to see the work prosper and God be praised.

A Very Becoming Savior

John 1:14 "The Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us."

When we were lost, God became and He came. Not in the Spirit, but in the flesh. While dead in our sins, counted as enemies, He became one of us, and He came. He wasn't in some semi-detached spiritual form shouting out holy counsel, He became fully human and He came.

This is the true Gospel: God 'pitched His tent among us,' lived with us, ate with us, cried with us, rejoiced with us, lifted our heads, healed our eyes, opened our ears, cured our diseases, brought us out of darkness, walked side by side with us, taught us, gave us water when we were thirsty and food when we were hungry. He touched us, and He let us touch Him. He was here with us in every human way.

According to the prosperity gospel, all people have to do is give more, pray more, be closer to God and all will be well. Why should anyone go among the hurting? Just give them this message, preferably over the radio or television, and move on. Other churches are preaching the Word every Sunday, but are never making this Word "flesh" and dwelling among the lost.

This is not the Gospel. The Gospel is that God dwelt among men and then saved them. When we step away from the poor, for whatever reason, we are eliminating the humanity of Christ, and without His humanity there is no Gospel. He took our sins and our pain away as both God and man. It was through a combination of His love and strength that we were saved. Through His love He identified Himself with us and took our sin upon Himself - the true Intercessor. Through His strength He took on the full weight and darkness of this sin and then destroyed it completely upon the Cross, shattering its hold on us - the true Savior.

When we deny our brothers food and water, when we deny them their humanity, we deny the true Gospel which takes on their humanity and delivers them from the darkness. When they cry out . . . . we come to them. We don't shout out holy counsel from white-washed palaces. We physically enter into their world and touch them, hold them, feed them, cry with them, laugh with them and love them.

When we cried out, God became flesh and He dwelt among us. We can do no less for our fellow man. That's the true Gospel.

Lost in the Translation

I was talking to a friend of mine who is a Bible translator in Central America and she told me that they have only translated the New Testament to this point (and she has been there over 20 years). I looked into this further and found that this is pretty much the case across the world. If you had to translate a part of the Bible as quickly as possible with maximum effectiveness, of course you would focus on the NT.

However, they are finding out that the Old Testament is more than just a luxury - these cultures are begging for the whole story, for a number of reasons:

1. They feel that they've picked up the story in the middle. Why the need for a Messiah? Where does He fit into the Big Picture? What about the beginning? Where are the frames of reference for all that is happening? If Jesus is the fulfillment of the Law, the final Sacrifice, what does that even mean? There is so much missing if you just pick it up in the Gospels.

2. Many of these cultures have a great understanding of the OT culture. They get why the genealogies are so important. They understand the Law better because their societies are similar in how they function. Even the agricultural concepts are more familiar to them than to us. The OT makes sense to them.

3. They miss the incredible stories of faith. Read David and Goliath like you're reading it for the first time. Or Joseph, Elijah, Daniel, Nehemiah. . . . . these are people who believed that God would actually move and act in wonderful ways. Because they're so familiar to us they can lose their emotional impact. Imagine reading the story of Joshua crossing the Jordan and taking down Jericho for the first time. You would think anything was possible with God. (What an amazing thought!) The verses and doctrine of the NT come to life with the stories of the OT.

Read the whole Bible and be thankful that you can.

Terminal Disease or Taking Leave of our Senses

I just finished reading an article about a local private school that has emptied out its library of all books and now is completely on-line. It now has roomfuls of empty shelves, with everybody sitting at their own terminals.

I don't know about this - I feel like an old man even saying that I don't like it but . . . . . I don't like it. There's something about a book - holding it, feeling it. Even the smell of an old book brings back feelings of prior readings and places in my life. I know this sounds contradictory as I sit at a computer and type a blog, but if this is where we're heading, I can't help but feel a deep sense of loss.

There is something to be said about engaging in a full sensory experience - even with a book. When I hold my Bible, I feel everything involved in it. I feel passages I've read that have moved me. I see things I've written in the margins that marked struggles and victories in my life. I even have food-stained finger-prints of that day. And some pages, when studied closely, look like they've been gripped tightly, as if at that point in my life I was getting my heart ripped out by God. I think we're supposed to be like that, that's the way we're wired. We're meant to hold, taste, smell and touch. It's how we remember. It engages us, and years later, on subsequent readings, re-engages us.

I envy in some ways the Old Testament worship experience, where they could smell, hear, feel and ultimately taste their offerings to the Lord. It was all around them and they were fully immersed in it. We weren't meant to lose that when the sacrificial system was replaced by The Sacrifice. Communion, serving, singing, eating together, praying together, Bible studies . . . it's all meant to be a part of the normal community of believers. Our daily life together.

But now we have a "terminal disease" - each one of us worshiping on-line, reading and listening to our favorite pastors and teachers, never coming together and eating and talking. The community has fragmented and we're losing our senses. We've perfected the H1N1 Fistbump, having gone from a holy kiss to a hug to a handshake to a fistbump to a head nod. What's next, a computerized message of the events of our day? We even think that somehow, one hour a week in church will bring us some kind of connectedness.

I think the pendulum is going to swing back. It may even be happening now. We are wired for a sensory experience, and the churches that start to engage each other and get deep into the heart of the world will be the ones that will draw people in. The ones that create true communities that meet more than on Sunday mornings will find seekers knocking on their doors asking to get in.

Begittin' the Begotten

Psalm 40 "Blessed is he who has regard for the weak . . . .

If there's one thing I hear over and over from people who are Christians it's this: I want to experience God. They believe and live out His Word, but they want a deeper, fuller walk with Him, a walk that feels real.

You want to experience God? Get in where He’s at. Go to where He is working. If you wanted to follow Jesus around, you would have found yourself in the homes of sinners, in the places of the poor, in the corners where the lepers were. You would have lived on the fringe of acceptable society with the outcasts. You would be in the desert with a rock for a pillow.

We want to be drawn into Him, into His heart. But the more you read the entire Scripture, the more you see that this is where is heart is at: where the poor, the confused, the hurting and the lost are dwelling. Those who have been pushed down their entire lives.

I believe in quiet time – but if my quiet time doesn’t drive me out into the streets then it’s just a selfish seeking of a personal experience with God. If my mountain-top doesn't bring me into the valley, then I'm the worst kind of useless.

We are masters of helping the helped, seeking the found, giving to the given, engaging the engaged, teaching the taught. We spend a lot of our energy begittin’ the begotten. We would never leave the ninety-nine for that one lost, dirty sheep who's caught in the thickets. But that contradicts what we claim when we say, "I want to experience God!"

He's in the thickets with them.

You Must Adjust to Me

This morning I came out my front door and a car went zooming by. I held up my hands in anger: "Slow down!" I got into my car and began pulling out of the driveway. There was a car coming up the street so I waited. And waited. "Will you speed up, for crying out loud!" If I weren't so serious about my selfishness, I would have laughed. I guess everyone has to run at my speed.

That's the way we live our lives, and that's why we're so judgmental. We have a standard that varies for different situations, yet we still manage to judge others on these shifting gears. "You're too fast!" "You're too slow!" "Adjust to me!!!!"

I love how in the Sermon on the Mount Jesus removes the burden of judgment from us. It can be very tiring making these demands upon other people, especially if we have to base it on our own feelings of the moment. If we were totally honest with ourselves, we would admit that our current state of personal development is very nebulous. We're "wimps" - "works in major progress." How can we, understanding our own growth, try to mark others based on where we happen to stand at this moment? I've grown tremendously over the past twenty years, and I'm embarrassed to think that I judged others based on who I was back then. They weren't going at my speed of that time. But like my experience this morning, I somehow managed to be very serious about my selfishness.

Be careful when you place your judgment upon someone. If it's based on the absolute truth of the Word of God, then it can be helpful in bringing them back to a better place. This is a humble type of judgment that is constructive. However, if it is based on the shifting sands of your own feelings or the point you happen to be at in life, then it is one of the most destructive forces on earth.

What About Bathsheba?

Most people, even those who don't read the Bible, are familiar with the story of David and Bathsheba. One restless night, David gets up and sees Bathsheba bathing and sends for her. Without any apparent regard for her, proceeds to sleep with her. Upon finding out she's pregnant, he goes into self-preservation mode and calls her husband Uriah in from battle to sleep with her. When Uriah shows that he has more integrity than the king, David sends him back to be killed.

After he is confronted, David is ultimately repents and is restored, writing two beautiful redemption psalms (32, 51) in the process. He is now considered the unofficial patron saint of adulterers. Governors, pastors, senators . . . . they all use him as their model of how you can be restored from such a heinous sin. God's grace is very, very good.

But my question is this: What about Bathsheba? One moment, she's minding her own business, and before she knows it her life has been turned upside down. Her husband is dead and she's pregnant with another man's baby. Good for David, he gets restored and can even write a best-selling piece of literature about it. Bathsheba, however, is somewhat left in the wake of this marvelous restoration that has enabled wayward men for years to find their peace with God. (And yes, I say this somewhat mockingly. Not at God's inexhaustible grace, but at man's inexhaustible ability to use this grace to cover their repeated moral failures. These men have made it a lifestyle!)

The problem I have with this is that we tend to mark our spiritual growth on the back of those we've hurt. Where is the spiritual growth that simply pours out of our love for God? Why does it always have to come at the expense of others?

My brother has come up with an ingenious plan for feeling good about his weight. He's going to put on 10 pounds, then lose 5 and rejoice in the victory. He's being funny, but isn't that what we do spiritually? We fall, we hurt people, then we take a few steps forward and proclaim a great victory! The problem with this isn't God's grace, which thankfully is new every morning (Lam. 3:23), but with the Bathshebas we leave strewn by the wayside.

I would love it if some men would seek spiritual gains that are not simply a continual stepping out of the muck and mud of poor decisions, but out of an honest quest for holiness. A quest that involves healing those along the way, not building your victories upon their backs.

Where are those who are seeking God for who He is, not just for eliminating their trash?

Punching Holes in the Darkness!

Okay - I get it. Everything is a mess and we've become a beehive of arguments and inactivity. We argue Creation Theology, End-time Theology, Resurrection Theology, Open Theology, Reformed Theology . . . . . So What?!!!

I'm going to defer to the Scriptures when I answer the "So What?" question. In my readings, I've noticed that at almost the end of every major discussion we get basically the same message: So get your life in order, stand firm, and advance the Kingdom.

(Look - I recognize the importance of 'getting it right.' I'm not dismissing correct theology. WE need to ultimately base our "so what" on a right foundation or it's meaningless - I do know that.)

In Mark 13 Christ gives a tremendous discourse on the end times. But when all is said and done, He basically sums it up in verses 32-37 with the words: "Be on guard . . . . be alert . . . . keep watch . . . do not let Him find you sleeping . . . . watch!" We can work through the theology of this all we want, but what it comes down to is RIGHT NOW. Live your life today in a way that is Spirit-filled, loving, holy and right. Be ready now.

At the end of Paul's great passage on the Resurrection, he closes with "Therefore, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourself fully to the work of the Lord because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain." (I Corinthians 15:58).

Again, when all is said and done regarding the resurrection of Christ, we are encouraged to use this information to live differently RIGHT NOW.

This is a constant drumbeat throughout the entire Bible. Every major theological discussion should end with this: Therefore I will live today in a more powerful, loving, expectant and holy way. Otherwise, why bother? If my life is angry and combative then I've missed this point. If my life is spent only defending my position instead of advancing His Position, then it's a waste of time. I'm trying to be relieved of my agenda, not further entrenched in it. If I theologically "gain the world yet lose my soul" - what's the point?

My previous blog wore me out. I was upset with all the screaming, so I screamed. When given time to reflect, to settle down, I realized that TODAY is what it's all about. Yielding to this moment.

I heard a great illustration the other day:
Robert Louis Stevenson, as a young child, was looking out the front window of his house one night. He was fascinated by the lamplighter coming down the street, lighting the old fashioned gas street lamps. He called to his nana, "Nana! Come quickly! There's a man coming down the street punching holes in the darkness!"

I'm done with punching holes in my brother's arguments and in the process punching holes in my brother. I want to be punching holes in the darkness.

The Great White Wail

"Call me Ishmael. Some years ago - never mind how long precisely - having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me at church, I thought I would sail about a little and see the material part of the world. It is a way I have of cleaning off the spleen, and regulating the circulation of my soul. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses called churches, and bringing up the rear of every worship service I meet; and especially whenever my cynicism gets such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking steeples off - then, I account it high time to get to my knees as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish the Pastor throws himself upon his Church; I quietly take to the woods. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the Lord with me."

(Adapted from the opening paragraph of "Moby Dick" - the search for the Great White Whale - my changes are in bold print.)

Let's face it - we have it fairly easy in our white American churches, yet we complain about everything. Music. Bible versions. Building programs. Personal agendas. It's pretty revealing to me that in such a cold, dark world, these are our biggest issues. There is a Great White Wail rising from America and to be honest, it's kind of pathetic. I say this to my shame, because I'm part of the chorus.

It's not a wail for the Lord, for the lost, for the hungry, for the poor. It's not even a cry for our own souls. It's a wail for our way of life. Jesus never intended this to be about a way of life. That's why He attacked the Pharisaical attitude of self-preservation. Christianity is not about preservation, it's about being spent out completely - a drink offering poured out upon the true Sacrifice, where God increases and we decrease.

As Ishmael went to the sea when he felt this coldness come upon him, I often drop my 'church' and head for the woods. I know that this isn't to be a dwelling place. I know that we are built for community, and that through community the church advances most effectively into the darkness. But if the community is crying out for their way of life, not for the way of the Lord, then we are dead in the water. So I head to the woods and shut my eyes and my mouth and I listen for God. I allow His Voice to drown out this self-centered wail from the American church. And for a moment, I am content.

Emerson wrote:

When I am stretched beneath the pines,

Where the evening star so holy shines,

I laugh at the lore and the pride of man,

At the sophist schools and the learned clan;

For what are they all, in their high conceit,

When man in the bush with God may meet?

Don't get me wrong. I love structure. I love rituals that allow me to enter into the presence of God without always trying to figure out what's coming next. The rhythm of liturgy can be a beautiful thing. I also truly love the people of church and a true corporate worship experience is one of the most amazing feelings in the world. I am just fearful that we build structures and impose methods, then we hope for a filling of the Spirit to eventually empower them. It doesn't work that way.

The first Ishmael was banished to the desert because he was a result of Abraham's attempt to manufacture the promise of God. Only when Isaac was miraculously born through Sarah did Abraham understand. Wait on God, then build. We build, then wait, and in the meantime we wail.

Call the church Ishmael . . . because we too are trying to manufacture the presence of God.

Entertaining Lust – The Guest That Never Leaves

Entertaining Lust

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. I’ve only invited him for awhile. He’s not staying, I’m only going to entertain him.

Of course, by entertaining him, I will have to feed him – it’s only polite. He doesn’t require much, just a little TV, a few magazines, a movie here and there. As a matter of fact, I can feed him with only my thoughts – so it won’t cost me hardly anything!

What do You mean, the more I feed him the bigger he’ll get? I’m only entertaining him, I don’t intend on keeping him around. I don’t want him to get too comfortable, too big – and I certainly don’t want him to feel at home.

You think that I have a problem on my hands? That he’ll start to take over the house? Trust me, that is not what I set out to do. I just wanted to have a little company, a little fun. I don’t want a permanent house guest – he’s just visiting, I promise. What harm can he do?”

Verses:

Proverbs 6:27 “Can a man scoop a fire into his lap without his clothes being burned?”

Proverbs 27:19 “As water reflects a face, so a man’s heart reflects the man.”

Galatians 5:17 “The sinful nature desires what is contrary to the Spirit.”

Harboring Bitterness - The Cellar Dweller

Harboring Bitterness

“I’m just going to hide him here for awhile. People are always chasing him around and he needs a place to stay. I’ll push him deep, deep down so no one will see him. He gets the basement – I promise.

You say he’s a lousy guest? He seems okay, a little self-centered and moody – but as long as he keeps quiet I should be okay.

You say he’s a lousy hider? That he’ll keep popping his head up into business that doesn’t involve him? I can’t have that. I can’t have him messing around in areas that he doesn’t belong. I’m just harboring him - that means he has to stay hidden and not bother me or anyone else. He can do that, can’t he?

You say he’ll eventually take over the house and no one will want to visit? That he’ll end up being my only friend, my only comfort? I’m not sure I like that thought – he’s really not very friendly. He’s hard to get along with and doesn’t seem to like anything or anyone. He’s also pretty self-absorbed, cynical, and critical of the rest of my friends. I’m not even sure that he likes me!

But don’t worry – I’m only hiding him here in the basement. My house will remain untouched.”

Verses:

Proverbs 14:10 “Each heart knows its own bitterness.”

Hebrews 12:15 “See to it that no one misses the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many.”

Job 5:2 “Resentment kills a fool.”

Christian 2.0

Galatians 4:19 "My dear children, for whom I am again in the pains of childbirth until Christ is formed in you"

You have not received Christ to make you a better version of yourself. It's not like computer programming, where they're constantly updating them, working out the bugs, making them better and faster. Many of us think this way, that we have a lot to offer and that we just need someone to fine tune us and enhance who we naturally are.

This is not God's intention. He is molding us into the image of Christ by the work of the Holy Spirit within us. This means more than some alterations and adjustments, it's a complete overhaul. Nothing good lives in us, all of our righteous acts are like filthy rags. When we understand that we are to be poured out and "born again" we can begin the process of Christ being formed in us. As long as we think we are bringing something to the table, then this can never begin, because we are always in the way.

Granted, there may be some personality traits and talents that God will use for His glory, but that's completely up to Him. Our job is to absolutely surrender every aspect of our being to the working of the Spirit and to the glory of God. The sooner we do that, the sooner the real transformation of our heart and mind can start.