Last week, my publisher sent me the galley proof of Stark Raving Obedience. I spent all weekend going through the text, taking time out only for baseball and church. While reading, the Holy Spirit used my own book to convict me. Several times in the book, I encourage people to act on the truth they read in the Bible. All I could think about were the times in the past month where I didn’t obey, missed my opportunity, or misunderstood the cue.
The top, number one, inexcusable excuse for my shortcomings? Discomfort. You could call it a host of other things. “Fear of man” “Fear of rejection” “Lack of faith”, all of which might describe what happens when I’m well aware of God’s will and still bail.
During the past week, a few things happened to reinforce what the Holy Spirit brought to my attention. First, I read a comment on Stuff Christians Like from this girl. She quoted from Kierkegaard’s Provocations by way of Shane Claiborne. “But we Christians are a bunch of scheming swindlers. We pretend to be unable to understand it (the Bible) because we know very well that the minute we understand, we are obliged to act accordingly. Take any words in the New Testament and forget everything except pledging yourself to act accordingly. My God, you will say, if I do that my whole life will be ruined. How would I ever get on in the world?” At first, I laughed and copied the quote for my own use.
Two days later, I decided to give myself a break from work. I drove a mile down the road from my house to Greer Stadium, home of the Nashville Sounds, a Triple A baseball team. I asked for a seat all the way down the left field foul line, five feet from the bullpen bench. For most of the evening, I listened to the relief pitchers and bullpen coach analyzing the game. If anyone looked over my way, they may have thought I was keeping score. Actually, I was writing down bits of their conversation. At one point in the fourth inning, the starting pitcher came to bat. He took two strikes in bunt attempts then swung for strike three. Minutes later, the bullpen coach told one of the relief pitchers to start warming up for the next inning. The guys on the bench tried to figure out why their starting pitcher wasn’t finishing a decent game.
Later, they learned what happened from the backup catcher. Apparently, after strike two, the batting coach signaled for another bunt attempt. The pitcher looked at his coach like he must have lost his mind. If he missed another bunt, strike three, a wasted at-bat, another out. The pitcher shook off the signal and motioned back to the coach that he wanted to swing. To the pitcher, the coach’s sign looked like idiocy. Suicide. But then again, the pitcher’s solution didn’t work, either. Coach was so angry he benched the pitcher.
One of the relief pitchers started laughing. “Man, if coach calls for a bunt, you give him a bunt.” Then after a moment, he started analyzing the situation. “I can see why they guy decided to swing, but coach was right. One out with a man on first and third is a great bunt opportunity. Either he advances the runner from first to second and gets him in scoring position or we somehow manage to pull off a squeeze play and bring the guy on third home. We might have taken the lead.”
I can’t say this was the pivotal moment where the Sounds began to lose the game. It is minor league ball, after all, which has enough errors to make me believe I’m watching theater. Even so, from that inning on, the team trailed the rest of the game and lost.
Immediately, I wrote this conversation on my program and made the connection to my attitude in prayer. There are days where God signals for me to pray for someone or tell them about Jesus. It’s not always so drastic. Sometimes He tells me to send an email or make a phone call that I forget about. But there are times when I absolutely know what God wants. He made it clear in prayer and scripture. Proclaim the good news of Jesus, pray for the sick, that sort of thing. But then I’m shaking off the signal or pretending holiness by asking, “God, do you want me to pray for this person?” After a silence, God says “No” and I feel justified in my nervousness. But maybe God said no because I’ve proved my lack of faith by not acting on the truth I know in the Bible. Maybe I just got benched for that game.
Now before you think I’m sitting in a chilly Nashville coffee shop moping about my failures, I want to assure you that God has used me to pray for and minister to more people now than ever before. Because of this, though, I’m noticing more instances when I don’t follow through on what God puts on my heart. It’s like the difference between walking into a wall and running full speed into it.
As I talked with God about my attitude when I run into the wall of discomfort, He reminded me of a parable in Matthew 21:28-30. “But what do you think? A man had two sons, and he came to the first and said, ‘Son, go work today in the vineyard.’ And he answered, ‘I will not’; but afterward he regretted it and went. The man came to the second and said the same thing; and he answered, ‘I will, sir’; but he did not go.” In the next verse, Jesus asks the religious leaders “Which of the two did the will of his father?” They said, “The first.”
We can find ourselves asking God to speak to us, to give us a sign, but then shake it off when He tells us something. There are lots of people who would ignore parts of the Bible that they'd rather not confront. I’ve found myself with that attitude in the past. The Bible is offensive. What if you really did live by what it said? What would become of you? I can tell you. It will ruin you. You’ll end up sacrificing everything. But take comfort in what Jesus told Peter in Mark 10:28-30. “Peter began to say to Him, ‘Behold, we have left everything and followed You.’ Jesus said, ‘Truly I say to you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or farms, for My sake and for the gospel’s sake, but that he will receive a hundred times as much now in the present age, houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and farms, along with persecutions; and in the age to come, eternal life.’”
It may be hard to reconcile with the hundredfold embarrassment, persecution, or other trials, but the promise outweighs the cost. I’d rather be the son working for God despite the discomfort or supposed inconvenience. I’d rather bunt and stay in the game than strike out and watch other men do what I should be doing on the mound. When I’m running that marathon and hit the wall of discomfort, I can remind myself that the wall isn’t made of bricks. It’s made of lies and orange gelatin. It might hurt a little and feel gross, but God has enabled me to push through and keep going.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
Humility - Or how I got over myself and learned to love the youth group
Some days, I wonder why people in my church encouraged me to become a youth leader. I didn’t want to do it at first. After praying about it, though, I felt that God wanted me to take this responsibility. For my first few months on the team, I felt horrendously uncomfortable. I thought, “don’t these people realize I might corrupt their children?” One of the kids came to church wearing a Slipknot hoodie and I made him a mix of Darkest Hour songs because they’re a better band. It didn’t occur to me until later that his mom might not be cool with me giving him that sort of music. Then again, she might think nothing of it. The point is, I don’t know how I’m supposed to behave around people ages 12-18.
Two weeks ago, I led my first discussion at a youth meeting. The topic of the day was humility. “Am I really qualified to lead this discussion?” I thought. “Because I think I’m pretty awesome and that seems to disqualify me outright.” As I prepared my questions for the night, I asked God for help. “I don’t know what to say to them about humility. It’s something we’re told to do but nobody defines how to be humble. Like, is it really only the absence of pride?”
Thankfully, God answered.
Humility first begins with understanding our proper place in creation. God is the ultimate, perfect, and self-sufficient being. We are His creation, given dignity because we are made in His image. Even though He gave man authority in nature (Gen. 1:28-30), man’s authority still came from and was accountable to God. We can see this in how He set boundaries of right and wrong for man. In every covenant that God made with man, God set the terms without negotiation. I’ve told people that the true sin of Adam and Eve came from the lie that they might be “like God” (Gen. 3:5). They wanted to define good and evil for themselves, to have a say in what God determined. The world has suffered the consequences ever since.
As a child, I often thought about the paradox that pride was sin and yet parents could still be proud of their children. Pride was wrong, but I could still take pride in doing well in school. In order to stop thinking about it, I started to compartmentalize good pride from bad pride, mixing the black and white together in a comfortable grey. Without knowing it, my elementary mind had begun to accept Hegelian synthesis as a reasonable answer. It may have given me an excuse to stop defining my terms, but it also left me with undefined words. Pride and humility had no true meaning except what I declared based on my perception. The only reason I didn’t see my attitude as relativistic was because other people often agreed with my standards.
But that Sunday night before the youth meeting, God pointed me to a teaching by Terry Virgo. In the final section of a four part series, Virgo talked about false humility. Exodus 2:11-14 tells the first story of Moses as an adult. “Now it came about in those days, when Moses had grown up, that he went out to his brethren and looked on their hard labors; and he saw an Egyptian beating a Hebrew, one of his brethren. So he looked this way and that, and when he saw there was no one around, he struck down the Egyptian and hid him in the sand. He went out the next day, and behold, two Hebrews were fighting with each other; and he said to the offender, ‘Why are you striking your companion?’ But he said, ‘Who made you a prince or a judge over us? Are you intending to kill me as you killed the Egyptian?’ Then Moses was afraid and said, ‘Surely the matter has become known.’”
Think about this. Moses was a prince of Egypt, a powerful nation who considered its pharaoh as a god. It’s possible that Moses went down among the Hebrews because he wanted to identify with his own people. But to do that, he may have gone undercover. Why else would the one Hebrew say, “Who made you a prince or a judge over us?” If Moses came in his royal clothes, obviously a prince of Egypt, this question would make no sense coming from a slave. When he killed the Egyptian, it seems Moses wanted to act as a protector or deliverer for his people. But again, the question of “Who made you…” implies a kind of contempt. As if to say, “Some hero you are. You’re just a killer.”
Pharaoh learns of the murder and seeks to kill Moses, but Moses runs away to the land of Midian and becomes a shepherd. Children were shepherds. That’s like a man opening a lemonade stand for forty years. Then one day, Moses sees a bush in flames. That’s not so strange, considering the desert sun sometimes causes dry plants to burn. But these flames didn’t consume the bush. After forty years of drudgery, you’d pay attention to little things like that. Of course, as the story goes, God speaks to Moses and tells him in Exodus 3:10, “Therefore, come now, and I will send you to Pharaoh, so that you may bring My people, the sons of Israel, out of Egypt.”
Hey Moses! You wanted to be a hero to your people. Now’s your chance. But Moses says, “Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh, and that I should bring the sons of Israel out of Egypt?” This response echoes what the slave told Moses before he fled Egypt. “Who do you think you are?” It seems that Moses has answered with, “Nobody.” Moses spends so much time telling God that he’s the wrong man for the job he forgets that God is offering the fulfillment of the dream. He also misses the part in Exodus 3:8 where God says, “I have come down to deliver them from the power of the Egyptians”. God’s doing the work, Moses only has to go and send the message. Instead, Moses protests and God gets pissed.
At first glance, it may seem that Moses displayed humility in his question, “Who am I?” But Virgo points out that this humility was a cover for disobedience. In many ways, it sounds like the lie Adam and Eve bought in Eden. What Moses really meant was, “I know better, God. I can determine between right and wrong just like you and I say you’ve got the wrong guy. I don’t want to do this.” Moses didn’t properly recognize God’s supremacy and his own place in creation. False humility is really a passive aggressive pride. It’s sin.
Now let’s look at Jesus. You may see some parallels with the story of Moses. God the son came down to earth and became human to act as our deliverer. Like the quarrelsome slave, most people didn’t recognize Jesus as the Messiah and treated him with contempt. But when God told Jesus to go to the cross and offer salvation to those enslaved in sin, He went in obedience. Of course it was agonizing. Of course it was humiliating. But then Jesus got up. As one writer put it, “He arose victorious”. God won and got the glory.
This leads me to believe that true humility comes out of obedience, where we recognize God’s authority and submit to it. That doesn’t mean we reject God’s pleasure in us, or like Moses try to diminish our calling. We can be proud when it comes to doing what God wants. Sometimes dad lets us hold the flashlight while he works on the car. Even though he’s doing all the work, don’t you feel awesome having taken part in the job?
So maybe I shouldn’t worry about my “qualifications” as a youth leader. Maybe I should be happy that I’m doing what God wants and trust that He picked the right man. It sure makes Sunday night more fun when I’m not so self-focused.
Two weeks ago, I led my first discussion at a youth meeting. The topic of the day was humility. “Am I really qualified to lead this discussion?” I thought. “Because I think I’m pretty awesome and that seems to disqualify me outright.” As I prepared my questions for the night, I asked God for help. “I don’t know what to say to them about humility. It’s something we’re told to do but nobody defines how to be humble. Like, is it really only the absence of pride?”
Thankfully, God answered.
Humility first begins with understanding our proper place in creation. God is the ultimate, perfect, and self-sufficient being. We are His creation, given dignity because we are made in His image. Even though He gave man authority in nature (Gen. 1:28-30), man’s authority still came from and was accountable to God. We can see this in how He set boundaries of right and wrong for man. In every covenant that God made with man, God set the terms without negotiation. I’ve told people that the true sin of Adam and Eve came from the lie that they might be “like God” (Gen. 3:5). They wanted to define good and evil for themselves, to have a say in what God determined. The world has suffered the consequences ever since.
As a child, I often thought about the paradox that pride was sin and yet parents could still be proud of their children. Pride was wrong, but I could still take pride in doing well in school. In order to stop thinking about it, I started to compartmentalize good pride from bad pride, mixing the black and white together in a comfortable grey. Without knowing it, my elementary mind had begun to accept Hegelian synthesis as a reasonable answer. It may have given me an excuse to stop defining my terms, but it also left me with undefined words. Pride and humility had no true meaning except what I declared based on my perception. The only reason I didn’t see my attitude as relativistic was because other people often agreed with my standards.
But that Sunday night before the youth meeting, God pointed me to a teaching by Terry Virgo. In the final section of a four part series, Virgo talked about false humility. Exodus 2:11-14 tells the first story of Moses as an adult. “Now it came about in those days, when Moses had grown up, that he went out to his brethren and looked on their hard labors; and he saw an Egyptian beating a Hebrew, one of his brethren. So he looked this way and that, and when he saw there was no one around, he struck down the Egyptian and hid him in the sand. He went out the next day, and behold, two Hebrews were fighting with each other; and he said to the offender, ‘Why are you striking your companion?’ But he said, ‘Who made you a prince or a judge over us? Are you intending to kill me as you killed the Egyptian?’ Then Moses was afraid and said, ‘Surely the matter has become known.’”
Think about this. Moses was a prince of Egypt, a powerful nation who considered its pharaoh as a god. It’s possible that Moses went down among the Hebrews because he wanted to identify with his own people. But to do that, he may have gone undercover. Why else would the one Hebrew say, “Who made you a prince or a judge over us?” If Moses came in his royal clothes, obviously a prince of Egypt, this question would make no sense coming from a slave. When he killed the Egyptian, it seems Moses wanted to act as a protector or deliverer for his people. But again, the question of “Who made you…” implies a kind of contempt. As if to say, “Some hero you are. You’re just a killer.”
Pharaoh learns of the murder and seeks to kill Moses, but Moses runs away to the land of Midian and becomes a shepherd. Children were shepherds. That’s like a man opening a lemonade stand for forty years. Then one day, Moses sees a bush in flames. That’s not so strange, considering the desert sun sometimes causes dry plants to burn. But these flames didn’t consume the bush. After forty years of drudgery, you’d pay attention to little things like that. Of course, as the story goes, God speaks to Moses and tells him in Exodus 3:10, “Therefore, come now, and I will send you to Pharaoh, so that you may bring My people, the sons of Israel, out of Egypt.”
Hey Moses! You wanted to be a hero to your people. Now’s your chance. But Moses says, “Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh, and that I should bring the sons of Israel out of Egypt?” This response echoes what the slave told Moses before he fled Egypt. “Who do you think you are?” It seems that Moses has answered with, “Nobody.” Moses spends so much time telling God that he’s the wrong man for the job he forgets that God is offering the fulfillment of the dream. He also misses the part in Exodus 3:8 where God says, “I have come down to deliver them from the power of the Egyptians”. God’s doing the work, Moses only has to go and send the message. Instead, Moses protests and God gets pissed.
At first glance, it may seem that Moses displayed humility in his question, “Who am I?” But Virgo points out that this humility was a cover for disobedience. In many ways, it sounds like the lie Adam and Eve bought in Eden. What Moses really meant was, “I know better, God. I can determine between right and wrong just like you and I say you’ve got the wrong guy. I don’t want to do this.” Moses didn’t properly recognize God’s supremacy and his own place in creation. False humility is really a passive aggressive pride. It’s sin.
Now let’s look at Jesus. You may see some parallels with the story of Moses. God the son came down to earth and became human to act as our deliverer. Like the quarrelsome slave, most people didn’t recognize Jesus as the Messiah and treated him with contempt. But when God told Jesus to go to the cross and offer salvation to those enslaved in sin, He went in obedience. Of course it was agonizing. Of course it was humiliating. But then Jesus got up. As one writer put it, “He arose victorious”. God won and got the glory.
This leads me to believe that true humility comes out of obedience, where we recognize God’s authority and submit to it. That doesn’t mean we reject God’s pleasure in us, or like Moses try to diminish our calling. We can be proud when it comes to doing what God wants. Sometimes dad lets us hold the flashlight while he works on the car. Even though he’s doing all the work, don’t you feel awesome having taken part in the job?
So maybe I shouldn’t worry about my “qualifications” as a youth leader. Maybe I should be happy that I’m doing what God wants and trust that He picked the right man. It sure makes Sunday night more fun when I’m not so self-focused.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Xerox Copies – Considering the Ultimate vs. the Derived.
In the past year, I’ve heard a few pastors and teachers use the phrase “every analogy breaks down”. As a writer and storyteller, I love analogies. It excites me to create a story that holds meaning. Analogies have helped me understand truths about science and mathematics and even theology. But those pastors and teachers were right to say that an analogy only represents the truth so far. In the end, it can only represent a facet.
Many of my essays use analogy to explain the point I hope to make. Some of my friends (Abe, Joe, you know) are really good at taking other points of the analogy and pointing out where any further discussion of the connection between example and truth could result in confusion or incorrect teaching. Thankfully, they can also find other ways in which the analogy truthfully applies. But my point is it would be silly to say that analogies stand on their own as equal to truth.
God is ultimate. He is self-sufficient and depends on nothing outside of Himself. There is nothing in Creation that He did not create. There is nothing outside of His control. Psalm 24:1 says, “The earth is the LORD’S, and all it contains, the world, and those who dwell in it.” Even though He has delegated authority within creation to people (for example Genesis 2:15, Luke 9:1, and the frustrating Romans 13:1), He has in no way given over any control of His creation. In a song ridiculing idols, created things that would try to compete with God for our affections, Psalm 115:3 says, “Our God is in the heavens, He does whatever He pleases.” He has all control to do what He wants. And in the first verse, the psalmist recognizes God’s ultimacy. “Not to us, O LORD, not to us, but to Your name give glory, because of Your lovingkindness, because of Your truth. (Emphasis mine)”
God, in His creativity, thought of everything. This statement shouldn’t be groundbreaking theology. But think about it, if God is the source of all creation, then He is also the source of everything present in creation. I don’t just mean physical matter put together like the best kind of Lego-land. I mean things like creativity itself, or knowledge, or love. His creativity is perfect creativity, His knowledge perfect, His love perfect. Even though we are made in God’s image, our creativity, knowledge, and love are not equal to His. They’re analogous. They’re only pictures.
And so, I’ll use a picture as an analogy. Imagine a breathtaking landscape. Now imagine a vivid photograph of that landscape. Not just a 4x6 point-and-click digital camera kind of photo printed at Walgreen’s. I mean something so well captured and developed that people could easily believe they were looking through a window instead of a framed photo on the wall. Although it is a masterpiece of an analogy, the landscape is real and the photo analogous.
Now if a person were to try understanding the fullness of the landscape, would it be best to go to that location or to look at the greatest photo ever taken of it? Can the photo translate itself back into the landscape? No, because it’s derivative. It truly describes the landscape, but cannot fully define it. If the person looking for understanding were to start with the picture and put the basis of his knowledge on that, it would be only partial knowledge. If he were to try explaining his partial understanding to others, I imagine that would be like him making Xerox copies of the picture to hand out as evidence. But then it’s black and white, dulled by the copy paper. Should people continue trying to make copies to understand the reality of the landscape, taking their Xerox copies and making still more copies, the image would break down. It would deteriorate in quality until only a bleak ghost remained of that glorious picture.
Instead, the man should explore the landscape and encourage others to do so using the picture as a point of reference.
I’ve been thinking about this concept specifically in terms of God’s knowledge and my knowledge because of the post The Importance of Being Right. Recently, I’ve been reading Cornelius Van Til’s The Defense of the Faith. In the beginning of the book, he talks about God as ultimate and creation as derived. When it comes to the knowledge of men, I began to understand that it is only an analogy of God’s perfect and ultimate knowledge. He says, “We are therefore like God so that our knowledge is true and we are unlike God and therefore our knowledge cannot be comprehensive.” And later, “It is true that there must be comprehensive knowledge somewhere if there is to be any true knowledge anywhere but this comprehensive knowledge need not and cannot be in us; it must be in God.”
Only in this context could I understand one of Van Til’s greatest arguments. Man can know true facts about himself and nature, but he cannot truly understand the meaning of those facts unless they have an absolute standard of truth by which to apply them. Because man’s knowledge is only an analogy, and since all analogies break down, it can’t stand alone. It only has meaning when applied to the original. So when two people, one a Christian and the other a non-believer, recognize beauty in nature, they both have recognized something true. Because the Christian has an absolute standard of truth in the Bible where God reveals himself as the ultimate source of beauty and creativity, he is capable of explaining why the flower is beautiful. At best, the non-believer can only say, “Well, it’s beautiful just because.” Or maybe, “Because I think it’s beautiful,” which places the standard of truth inside of himself without explanation or relatable context.
I believe it is important for Christians to realize God’s sovereignty so that we have proper understanding of anything in creation including ourselves. When we look at any facet of creation or any event that occurs within it, we should go back to this foundational understanding: God is ultimately in control.
I also believe it’s important for Christians to recognize that the Bible, while not exhaustive (John 21:25), is completely true. By what would we otherwise give context to our existence? How could we ever know anything truly unless a perfectly true God gave us a perfectly true revelation of Himself? Until Jesus returns, what other standard could we hold fast to? If I didn’t believe that the Bible was God’s perfect word given to us, why would I base my life on it? If it were not so, I may as well say it’s a nice, moral story and continue to base my understanding on myself.
In many ways, understanding God’s ultimacy brings me great joy. Nothing on this earth surprises or frustrates Him. When I don’t understand something that happens in the world, I can know that He is still in control. I can’t be angry or frustrated with him as if I knew better. I can be content to know that God is in heaven, doing what He pleases. He’s full of delight. He is glorious. He is wise. He is loving. And I am a picture of all these things.
Still, to be honest, there are days where I find myself staring at the bleak Xerox wondering if God is good. I’m really only looking at circumstances in a broken world, though. I forget that He is perfect in every way, that He made me in His image (Genesis 1:27) and continues to make me more like Him (2 Corinthians 3:18). That’s like Sistine Chapel restoration or the Replacements records finally getting remastered. God daily shows me more of His awesomeness and beauty and how it translates into every part of creation.
The world looks a lot better from that view.
Many of my essays use analogy to explain the point I hope to make. Some of my friends (Abe, Joe, you know) are really good at taking other points of the analogy and pointing out where any further discussion of the connection between example and truth could result in confusion or incorrect teaching. Thankfully, they can also find other ways in which the analogy truthfully applies. But my point is it would be silly to say that analogies stand on their own as equal to truth.
God is ultimate. He is self-sufficient and depends on nothing outside of Himself. There is nothing in Creation that He did not create. There is nothing outside of His control. Psalm 24:1 says, “The earth is the LORD’S, and all it contains, the world, and those who dwell in it.” Even though He has delegated authority within creation to people (for example Genesis 2:15, Luke 9:1, and the frustrating Romans 13:1), He has in no way given over any control of His creation. In a song ridiculing idols, created things that would try to compete with God for our affections, Psalm 115:3 says, “Our God is in the heavens, He does whatever He pleases.” He has all control to do what He wants. And in the first verse, the psalmist recognizes God’s ultimacy. “Not to us, O LORD, not to us, but to Your name give glory, because of Your lovingkindness, because of Your truth. (Emphasis mine)”
God, in His creativity, thought of everything. This statement shouldn’t be groundbreaking theology. But think about it, if God is the source of all creation, then He is also the source of everything present in creation. I don’t just mean physical matter put together like the best kind of Lego-land. I mean things like creativity itself, or knowledge, or love. His creativity is perfect creativity, His knowledge perfect, His love perfect. Even though we are made in God’s image, our creativity, knowledge, and love are not equal to His. They’re analogous. They’re only pictures.
And so, I’ll use a picture as an analogy. Imagine a breathtaking landscape. Now imagine a vivid photograph of that landscape. Not just a 4x6 point-and-click digital camera kind of photo printed at Walgreen’s. I mean something so well captured and developed that people could easily believe they were looking through a window instead of a framed photo on the wall. Although it is a masterpiece of an analogy, the landscape is real and the photo analogous.
Now if a person were to try understanding the fullness of the landscape, would it be best to go to that location or to look at the greatest photo ever taken of it? Can the photo translate itself back into the landscape? No, because it’s derivative. It truly describes the landscape, but cannot fully define it. If the person looking for understanding were to start with the picture and put the basis of his knowledge on that, it would be only partial knowledge. If he were to try explaining his partial understanding to others, I imagine that would be like him making Xerox copies of the picture to hand out as evidence. But then it’s black and white, dulled by the copy paper. Should people continue trying to make copies to understand the reality of the landscape, taking their Xerox copies and making still more copies, the image would break down. It would deteriorate in quality until only a bleak ghost remained of that glorious picture.
Instead, the man should explore the landscape and encourage others to do so using the picture as a point of reference.
I’ve been thinking about this concept specifically in terms of God’s knowledge and my knowledge because of the post The Importance of Being Right. Recently, I’ve been reading Cornelius Van Til’s The Defense of the Faith. In the beginning of the book, he talks about God as ultimate and creation as derived. When it comes to the knowledge of men, I began to understand that it is only an analogy of God’s perfect and ultimate knowledge. He says, “We are therefore like God so that our knowledge is true and we are unlike God and therefore our knowledge cannot be comprehensive.” And later, “It is true that there must be comprehensive knowledge somewhere if there is to be any true knowledge anywhere but this comprehensive knowledge need not and cannot be in us; it must be in God.”
Only in this context could I understand one of Van Til’s greatest arguments. Man can know true facts about himself and nature, but he cannot truly understand the meaning of those facts unless they have an absolute standard of truth by which to apply them. Because man’s knowledge is only an analogy, and since all analogies break down, it can’t stand alone. It only has meaning when applied to the original. So when two people, one a Christian and the other a non-believer, recognize beauty in nature, they both have recognized something true. Because the Christian has an absolute standard of truth in the Bible where God reveals himself as the ultimate source of beauty and creativity, he is capable of explaining why the flower is beautiful. At best, the non-believer can only say, “Well, it’s beautiful just because.” Or maybe, “Because I think it’s beautiful,” which places the standard of truth inside of himself without explanation or relatable context.
I believe it is important for Christians to realize God’s sovereignty so that we have proper understanding of anything in creation including ourselves. When we look at any facet of creation or any event that occurs within it, we should go back to this foundational understanding: God is ultimately in control.
I also believe it’s important for Christians to recognize that the Bible, while not exhaustive (John 21:25), is completely true. By what would we otherwise give context to our existence? How could we ever know anything truly unless a perfectly true God gave us a perfectly true revelation of Himself? Until Jesus returns, what other standard could we hold fast to? If I didn’t believe that the Bible was God’s perfect word given to us, why would I base my life on it? If it were not so, I may as well say it’s a nice, moral story and continue to base my understanding on myself.
In many ways, understanding God’s ultimacy brings me great joy. Nothing on this earth surprises or frustrates Him. When I don’t understand something that happens in the world, I can know that He is still in control. I can’t be angry or frustrated with him as if I knew better. I can be content to know that God is in heaven, doing what He pleases. He’s full of delight. He is glorious. He is wise. He is loving. And I am a picture of all these things.
Still, to be honest, there are days where I find myself staring at the bleak Xerox wondering if God is good. I’m really only looking at circumstances in a broken world, though. I forget that He is perfect in every way, that He made me in His image (Genesis 1:27) and continues to make me more like Him (2 Corinthians 3:18). That’s like Sistine Chapel restoration or the Replacements records finally getting remastered. God daily shows me more of His awesomeness and beauty and how it translates into every part of creation.
The world looks a lot better from that view.
Monday, February 23, 2009
The Newest News.
A few of my weblog-writing friends have told me of stat trackers and counters and other ways to know people actually read their writing. I don't have any of those features. Every time I write a post, I assume that only ten or so friends and family will take the time to read all of those words. I think I want to continue feeling surprise when anyone else writes a comment or email regarding my essays. All that to say, I have no idea how many people might be upset with what I say next.
For the first time in the not-quite-year-long history of 'Am-ha'aretz Press, I'm only going to have posted one essay in a month. I don't count this extended disclaimer as a post. It's more of an explanation for what's to come. Maybe it's an apology, but I don't feel sorry. Here's what's going on, Press readers...
I base most of my posts on what I've recently studied or what God has taught me during times of prayer. About five weeks ago, I began to approach some big questions about God's soveriegnty, the nature of my relationship with Him, and how these things affected my work in His kingdom. In my arrogance (there you go, I admitted it), I didn't think this new study would be too much trouble. Instead, it shook out all of my brain's drawers and ripped everything out of my soul's closet then demanded I put it back in order. What I mean to say is, I've had to rethink just about everything in the past five weeks.
Here's a taste of what I've had to endure: Faith is both believing and living according to God's word and it's impossible to please God outside of faith. Sin, as far as I know, is living according to anything apart from God's word. Nothing in my life can be autonomous because that would mean I've tried to take control of something from God or that God had given away control. Autonomy and faith are absolutely exclusive. If this is true, then is it right to believe or operate as if I have autonomous control over my decisions?
Exactly. That's the kind of thing I've had to deal with.
In a tone some people reserve for breaking bad news to loved ones, I told my mom last week, "I think I'm a five-point Calvinist." I felt like I was telling her that I had a heroin addiction or that I'd simultaneously impregnated a hooker while catching a viscous VD. For a guy that both attended and disliked Calvin College, this was a hard admission. Maybe that's not as bad as the hooker/VD thing. I guess it's more like realizing that I actually enjoy Ryan Adams and Wilco. Which I don't. But saying that aloud in Nashville would make me a marked man. I'm just trying to express the severity of what I've had to admit. Ugh.
Until I put those drawers back in the dresser and rearrange my closet, I might not be able to put any of my essays up here. I'll keep writing them. That's for sure. And when I can explain why I think these things are true, I'll let all of you read them.
The other reason I don't want to post these essays yet has to do with the sensitivity of any readers who haven't considered the questions I've wrestled with. I told one of my close friends about this over a pint one night. He and I discussed the heart of God and His perfect mercy in relation to His perfect justice. That's the kind of thing I prefer to discuss while imbibing. At the end of our conversation, I told him, "If God leads me to understand this is true, then I'm sure I'll have to write both about God's sovereignty and His heartbreak." In The God Who Is There, Francis Schaeffer spoke of "tearing the roof off" of a person's system of belief. One can't destroy this without offering the person some help to rebuild.
So I'll keep putting my room back together, so to speak, and nailing new shingles on my own roof. I hope to talk to you all about it next month.
For the first time in the not-quite-year-long history of 'Am-ha'aretz Press, I'm only going to have posted one essay in a month. I don't count this extended disclaimer as a post. It's more of an explanation for what's to come. Maybe it's an apology, but I don't feel sorry. Here's what's going on, Press readers...
I base most of my posts on what I've recently studied or what God has taught me during times of prayer. About five weeks ago, I began to approach some big questions about God's soveriegnty, the nature of my relationship with Him, and how these things affected my work in His kingdom. In my arrogance (there you go, I admitted it), I didn't think this new study would be too much trouble. Instead, it shook out all of my brain's drawers and ripped everything out of my soul's closet then demanded I put it back in order. What I mean to say is, I've had to rethink just about everything in the past five weeks.
Here's a taste of what I've had to endure: Faith is both believing and living according to God's word and it's impossible to please God outside of faith. Sin, as far as I know, is living according to anything apart from God's word. Nothing in my life can be autonomous because that would mean I've tried to take control of something from God or that God had given away control. Autonomy and faith are absolutely exclusive. If this is true, then is it right to believe or operate as if I have autonomous control over my decisions?
Exactly. That's the kind of thing I've had to deal with.
In a tone some people reserve for breaking bad news to loved ones, I told my mom last week, "I think I'm a five-point Calvinist." I felt like I was telling her that I had a heroin addiction or that I'd simultaneously impregnated a hooker while catching a viscous VD. For a guy that both attended and disliked Calvin College, this was a hard admission. Maybe that's not as bad as the hooker/VD thing. I guess it's more like realizing that I actually enjoy Ryan Adams and Wilco. Which I don't. But saying that aloud in Nashville would make me a marked man. I'm just trying to express the severity of what I've had to admit. Ugh.
Until I put those drawers back in the dresser and rearrange my closet, I might not be able to put any of my essays up here. I'll keep writing them. That's for sure. And when I can explain why I think these things are true, I'll let all of you read them.
The other reason I don't want to post these essays yet has to do with the sensitivity of any readers who haven't considered the questions I've wrestled with. I told one of my close friends about this over a pint one night. He and I discussed the heart of God and His perfect mercy in relation to His perfect justice. That's the kind of thing I prefer to discuss while imbibing. At the end of our conversation, I told him, "If God leads me to understand this is true, then I'm sure I'll have to write both about God's sovereignty and His heartbreak." In The God Who Is There, Francis Schaeffer spoke of "tearing the roof off" of a person's system of belief. One can't destroy this without offering the person some help to rebuild.
So I'll keep putting my room back together, so to speak, and nailing new shingles on my own roof. I hope to talk to you all about it next month.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
A Working Faith
Even though I write about my life as a Christian, I spent a good deal of my life detesting books listed under “Christian Living”. The books I would take off of my dad’s shelf sometimes had phrases like “living by faith” or “taking steps of faith” or “developing faith”. There are certain phrases that I had heard enough Bible teachers say without ever explaining what they meant, eventually my mind would pass over the topic whenever I encountered it. So I could never explain “faith” whenever my friends outside of the church ever asked me about my faith. The word had meaning the same way that “glory” has meaning in some churches. They know it means something, and that it has to do with God, but they stutter whenever you ask them to define their terms.
I’ve begun to see the importance of defining terms. I recently told a story about a man challenging me on how I used the words “belief” and “faith” interchangeably. It took me months before I could understand the difference. I felt a certain satisfaction in finally understanding a word that I had used hundreds of thousands of times in ignorance while unknowingly (or secretly) hoping that listeners would understand.
Think about this in your own life. How many times have people asked you to explain or define faith and you find your mouth hanging open absolutely puzzled? And how about this brain bender: if we’re saved by grace and not by works, then why does the Bible say that faith without works is dead? Like a college essay question, I used to BS my way through the whole thing.
As I write this, I am sitting in the lower level of the library at Belmont University. They’ve hidden all of the theology, religion, and philosophy books in the depths of the building behind inconspicuous doors marked “Not An Exit”. Not many of my friends on campus are even aware of this place, which means it’s really quiet. I’ve been coming here nearly every day since last week to study and write. But today, for some reason, I’m unable to use my usual online study guides. I think maybe the shadowy lords of Belmont Wi-Fi have figured out that I’m not a paying student. All of this to say that I will be using the Complete Jewish Bible for my scripture references. For the sake of the reader, though, I’ll use the glossary to translate names and words that might not be familiar. I just made you read this whole paragraph to make that one point. Now, moving on…
Here are a few things Paul states in Romans 10. In verses 9 and 11, he says, “that if you acknowledge publicly with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and trust in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be delivered.” Then, “For the passage quoted says that everyone who rests his trust on him will not be humiliated (referring to Isaiah 28:16).” If you read this in other translations, note how the Hebrew translation uses the word “trust” for “faith”. Many people have heard what Paul says a few verses later how faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God (Romans 10:17).
Hebrews 11:6 says, “without trusting, it is impossible to be well pleasing to God, because whoever approaches him must trust that he does exist and that he becomes a Rewarder of those who seek him out.” To restate my definition of terms, “belief” is mentally ascribing yourself to something. My belief rests on the truth that I find in the Bible. I demonstrate this when I tell people that the Bible is absolutely true. “Faith” is acting upon the truth to which I have mentally and verbally given myself. This is why the Bible can say, “believe in the Lord Jesus and you will be saved” and that a public acknowledgement of Jesus as the risen Lord delivers us.
But “faith” is something else. Faith takes the truth of the Bible and stirs a real change in our day-to-day lives. That means we have to act as if we really believe ourselves when we say that the whole Bible is true. I mean, to say we believe it and live as if we don’t places us in a frustrating situation. That’s why James says faith without works is dead. Without evidence of some change by the power of the Holy Spirit in our lives, a person who claims belief in the Bible speaks empty words.
So if living by faith, as a Christian, means living in moment-to-moment reality trusting that the whole Bible is true today, this presents a question of responsibility to believers. Hebrews 11:6 made it clear that it is impossible to please God outside of faith. If faith means that we have to base our actions on what we read in the Bible (Romans 10:17 again), then doesn’t that mean it would be sin for us to read something in the scripture and not apply that to our everyday lives? If I make a decision about a situation on my own wisdom apart from the Bible, am I not basically saying that I don’t need God to figure it out? Isn’t that ethically living outside of faith? Isn’t that sin?
Now what if we could depend on the Bible as truth, that it does apply in reality today? Let’s look at a few verses. Matthew 10:1, “Jesus called his twelve disciples and gave them authority to drive out unclean spirits and to heal every kind of disease and weakness.” And what about the redemptive work of salvation? Because Jesus came to earth, lived, died, rose again, and ascended into heaven, those who trust in this have great promises. Not only will their sins be forgiven, but according to Isaiah 53:5 and Psalm 103:3 says that salvation brings physical healing. James 5:14-15 says, “Is someone among you ill? He should call for the elders of the congregation. They will pray for him and rub olive oil on him in the name of the Lord. The prayer offered with trust will heal the one who is ill – the Lord will restore his health; and if he has committed sins, he will be forgiven.” Notice also how salvation refers to sin and sickness each time. That happens a lot in the Bible. I think it’s safe to say that salvation and healing are not two separate things.
Beyond healing miracles, what about simply hearing the voice of the Holy Spirit? Isaiah 30:21 says, “With your ears you will hear a word from behind you: ‘This is the way; stay on it, whether you go to the right or the left.’” John 16:13, “However, when the Spirit of Truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own initiative but will say only what he hears. He will also announce to you the events of the future.” That last part refers to prophecy. Paul talks at length about this and other gifts of the spirit in 1 Corinthians 12-14. And for you dispensationalists out there, was Paul writing about this for the benefit of the exclusively gifted apostles, or to a church of former pagans that needed to understand a reality that God had shown of himself?
Healing the sick, casting out demons, raising the dead, prophesying, speaking in languages unknown to the speaker, a personal and verbal (even if unspoken) relationship with the Holy Spirit. I mean, even going out preaching the gospel, baptizing people, and discipling them. The Bible instructs people to do that stuff. If you say that you believe the whole Bible, are you willing to read it and trust that God will enable you to do it? Remember that only God makes us able to live by faith. But when we resist Him, what does that say about our belief in the Bible? I won’t demand that you answer for this, but I can tell you that one day you will have to give an answer, just like I will have to give an answer.
I’ll leave you with this, though, in hopes that you won’t be all bummed out at the end. There’s a reason I quoted Romans 10:11. If you do put your trust in God and live it, you won’t be humiliated. Well, that doesn’t guarantee you won’t be embarrassed sometimes. But God has stated the truth of the Bible and called us to live accordingly so that He will be glorified. Believers are a part of His plan to reveal Himself to the world because we demonstrate the reality of who He is in our lives. That’s the way He set it up. So when we live based on our trust in the Bible, we get to be a part of what He’s already going to do.
I’ve begun to see the importance of defining terms. I recently told a story about a man challenging me on how I used the words “belief” and “faith” interchangeably. It took me months before I could understand the difference. I felt a certain satisfaction in finally understanding a word that I had used hundreds of thousands of times in ignorance while unknowingly (or secretly) hoping that listeners would understand.
Think about this in your own life. How many times have people asked you to explain or define faith and you find your mouth hanging open absolutely puzzled? And how about this brain bender: if we’re saved by grace and not by works, then why does the Bible say that faith without works is dead? Like a college essay question, I used to BS my way through the whole thing.
As I write this, I am sitting in the lower level of the library at Belmont University. They’ve hidden all of the theology, religion, and philosophy books in the depths of the building behind inconspicuous doors marked “Not An Exit”. Not many of my friends on campus are even aware of this place, which means it’s really quiet. I’ve been coming here nearly every day since last week to study and write. But today, for some reason, I’m unable to use my usual online study guides. I think maybe the shadowy lords of Belmont Wi-Fi have figured out that I’m not a paying student. All of this to say that I will be using the Complete Jewish Bible for my scripture references. For the sake of the reader, though, I’ll use the glossary to translate names and words that might not be familiar. I just made you read this whole paragraph to make that one point. Now, moving on…
Here are a few things Paul states in Romans 10. In verses 9 and 11, he says, “that if you acknowledge publicly with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and trust in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be delivered.” Then, “For the passage quoted says that everyone who rests his trust on him will not be humiliated (referring to Isaiah 28:16).” If you read this in other translations, note how the Hebrew translation uses the word “trust” for “faith”. Many people have heard what Paul says a few verses later how faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God (Romans 10:17).
Hebrews 11:6 says, “without trusting, it is impossible to be well pleasing to God, because whoever approaches him must trust that he does exist and that he becomes a Rewarder of those who seek him out.” To restate my definition of terms, “belief” is mentally ascribing yourself to something. My belief rests on the truth that I find in the Bible. I demonstrate this when I tell people that the Bible is absolutely true. “Faith” is acting upon the truth to which I have mentally and verbally given myself. This is why the Bible can say, “believe in the Lord Jesus and you will be saved” and that a public acknowledgement of Jesus as the risen Lord delivers us.
But “faith” is something else. Faith takes the truth of the Bible and stirs a real change in our day-to-day lives. That means we have to act as if we really believe ourselves when we say that the whole Bible is true. I mean, to say we believe it and live as if we don’t places us in a frustrating situation. That’s why James says faith without works is dead. Without evidence of some change by the power of the Holy Spirit in our lives, a person who claims belief in the Bible speaks empty words.
So if living by faith, as a Christian, means living in moment-to-moment reality trusting that the whole Bible is true today, this presents a question of responsibility to believers. Hebrews 11:6 made it clear that it is impossible to please God outside of faith. If faith means that we have to base our actions on what we read in the Bible (Romans 10:17 again), then doesn’t that mean it would be sin for us to read something in the scripture and not apply that to our everyday lives? If I make a decision about a situation on my own wisdom apart from the Bible, am I not basically saying that I don’t need God to figure it out? Isn’t that ethically living outside of faith? Isn’t that sin?
Now what if we could depend on the Bible as truth, that it does apply in reality today? Let’s look at a few verses. Matthew 10:1, “Jesus called his twelve disciples and gave them authority to drive out unclean spirits and to heal every kind of disease and weakness.” And what about the redemptive work of salvation? Because Jesus came to earth, lived, died, rose again, and ascended into heaven, those who trust in this have great promises. Not only will their sins be forgiven, but according to Isaiah 53:5 and Psalm 103:3 says that salvation brings physical healing. James 5:14-15 says, “Is someone among you ill? He should call for the elders of the congregation. They will pray for him and rub olive oil on him in the name of the Lord. The prayer offered with trust will heal the one who is ill – the Lord will restore his health; and if he has committed sins, he will be forgiven.” Notice also how salvation refers to sin and sickness each time. That happens a lot in the Bible. I think it’s safe to say that salvation and healing are not two separate things.
Beyond healing miracles, what about simply hearing the voice of the Holy Spirit? Isaiah 30:21 says, “With your ears you will hear a word from behind you: ‘This is the way; stay on it, whether you go to the right or the left.’” John 16:13, “However, when the Spirit of Truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own initiative but will say only what he hears. He will also announce to you the events of the future.” That last part refers to prophecy. Paul talks at length about this and other gifts of the spirit in 1 Corinthians 12-14. And for you dispensationalists out there, was Paul writing about this for the benefit of the exclusively gifted apostles, or to a church of former pagans that needed to understand a reality that God had shown of himself?
Healing the sick, casting out demons, raising the dead, prophesying, speaking in languages unknown to the speaker, a personal and verbal (even if unspoken) relationship with the Holy Spirit. I mean, even going out preaching the gospel, baptizing people, and discipling them. The Bible instructs people to do that stuff. If you say that you believe the whole Bible, are you willing to read it and trust that God will enable you to do it? Remember that only God makes us able to live by faith. But when we resist Him, what does that say about our belief in the Bible? I won’t demand that you answer for this, but I can tell you that one day you will have to give an answer, just like I will have to give an answer.
I’ll leave you with this, though, in hopes that you won’t be all bummed out at the end. There’s a reason I quoted Romans 10:11. If you do put your trust in God and live it, you won’t be humiliated. Well, that doesn’t guarantee you won’t be embarrassed sometimes. But God has stated the truth of the Bible and called us to live accordingly so that He will be glorified. Believers are a part of His plan to reveal Himself to the world because we demonstrate the reality of who He is in our lives. That’s the way He set it up. So when we live based on our trust in the Bible, we get to be a part of what He’s already going to do.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
We’re In This Together – some thoughts on Nehemiah and the church.
New friends are sometimes surprised to learn that punk is my favorite kind of music. I mean, if I were banished to the furthest of the nether-regions with my ten-dollar portable cassette player and allowed only one genre – punk, no question. Those new friends are surprised because I don’t look punk, that is, I haven’t adopted the fashion. I played punk music for the better part of a decade and didn’t look the part then, either. In the mid to late nineties, some of the punk kids at my shows openly expressed their displeasure about my appearance and called me hilarious words like “poser” and “dick”. Ha ha ha. My spent tissues were more punk than those kids.
As a culture, punk has confused and disappointed me. People wanted to draw battle lines and shout slogans of unity. As Jello Biafra (vocalist for the Dead Kennedys) said, when you have this supposedly egalitarian movement using words like “us” and “them” without defining either us or them, you leave the defining up to the individual. Suddenly, “them” describes anyone who doesn’t agree with you or your set of friends. Then that golden movement centered around the unity of the individual (again, ha ha ha) splinters into an innumerable amount of impotent subcultures.
When I read that explanation of infighting and splits in the punk movement, my first thoughts were to compare this with the church. I mean, the Reformation was obviously necessary. The church had become uncompassionately wealthy, corrupt, and more focused on politics than holiness. The common man needed to read the scriptures for himself. That sort of thing needed to happen. But then you had centuries of people fighting wars over how to take communion or baptize folks. And so on and so on until today, where literally hundreds of denominations stand as a testimony of disagreement and misdirected anger within the body of Christ. Is it any wonder that the Western Church reminds me of snotty punk kids? If you don’t wear a tie and jacket, you’re not punk… so to speak.
Instead of parroting slogans of unity like I did back in 1997, I wanted to spend time today talking about co-operation within the church by looking at the book of Nehemiah.
In some ways, the Western church is in shambles. Rubble. Burned stones piled in heaps. In the first chapter of his book, Nehemiah is working as a servant for the king of Persia. One day, he asks his brother and some other men how the escaped exiles are faring in Jerusalem. Nehemiah 1:3-6 says, “They said to me, ‘The remnant there in the province who survived the captivity are in great distress and reproach, and the wall of Jerusalem is broken down and its gates are burned with fire.’ When I heard these words, I sat down and wept and mourned for days; and I was fasting and praying before the God of heaven. I said, ‘I beseech You, O LORD God of heaven, the great and awesome God, who preserves the covenant and lovingkindness for those who love Him and keep His commandments, let Your ear now be attentive and Your eyes open to hear the prayer of Your servant which I am praying before You now, day and night, on behalf of the sons of Israel Your servants, confessing the sins of the sons of Israel which we have sinned against You; I and my father’s house have sinned.’”
When I read that passage, I remarked how Nehemiah’s first response to the condition of Jerusalem is to confess his own sins. This was correct, I believe. I mean, it’s easy to look at the condition of the church and assume that it’s someone else’s fault, or everybody else’s fault, but you and me are spotless lambs. Were he still alive at the time of Christ, Nehemiah would have understood what Jesus said in Matthew 7:3-5, “Why do you look at the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ and behold, the log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.”
As we read on in Nehemiah, we’ll find that corporate repentance is also needed before the restoration. For several weeks, the people had been rebuilding the walls at a miraculous pace while resisting opposition from surrounding nations. In chapter 8, after the reconstruction, a priest named Ezra reads from the scriptures in the presence of the whole people all day. As the people listened, God convicted them of their sins as a nation and they fell in repentance together. Then, the people purposed in their hearts to obey God’s commands again. At the end of chapter 8, this is demonstrated with their observance of the Feast of Booths, which had not been celebrated for centuries since the time of Joshua.
I’ve begun to see a pattern in the Bible where God moves powerfully when His people do something together. Whether it’s in repentance (like in Nehemiah 8), or sacrifice (Numbers 7), or praise and dedication (1 Kings 8), God shows up in power.
Also, notice how Ezra didn’t scold the people or heap guilt upon them. He read the word of God and allowed their hearts to bear its conviction. Now we live in an age where the Holy Spirit moves among us. Jesus said in John 16:8 of the Holy Spirit, “And He, when He comes, will convict the world concerning sin and righteousness and judgment.” Although it’s the Holy Spirit’s job to convict people, we can continue to proclaim the word as Ezra did and allow God to work through it.
I’ve heard teaching on Nehemiah a few times. Not a lot aside from a focus on building walls and standing in the gap and stuff. But never have I heard anyone talk about the last chapter of the book. Have you read it? It’s weird. Okay, so get this, Nehemiah goes back to work for the King of Persia and later hears about all sorts of idiocy happening back in Jerusalem. So he returns to set things straight. A priest had taken a room in the temple and made it into a residence for his relative. Nehemiah throws the guy’s stuff out of the temple and has the room cleansed and restored to its proper function. He had to rebuke the people for not tithing to the priests and temple caretakers, who had dispersed in their poverty and left the house of God.
Then he saw that some men were taking their goods into Jerusalem on the Sabbath to sell in the market. He has the gates closed on Sabbath to discourage them from breaking God’s commands, but one night sees them camped outside the gates waiting to be let inside. He said to them in Nehemiah 13:21, “Then I warned them and said to them, ‘Why do you spend the night in front of the wall? If you do so again, I will use force against you.’ From that time on they did not come on the Sabbath.”
But even crazier is what Nehemiah does at the end of the last chapter. He saw that the people were intermarrying with foreigners and in Nehemiah 13:25-27 says, “So I contended with them and cursed them and struck some of them and pulled out their hair, and made them swear by God, ‘You shall not give your daughters to their sons, nor take of their daughters for your sons or for yourselves. Did not Solomon king of Israel sin regarding these things? Yet among the many nations there was no king like him, and he was loved by his God, and God made him king over all Israel; nevertheless the foreign women caused even him to sin. Do we then hear about you that you have committed all this great evil by acting unfaithfully against our God by marrying foreign women?’”
After doing these things, Nehemiah keeps asking God to remember the good that he has done and asks for favor. “Remember me for this, O my God, and do not blot out my loyal deeds which I have performed for the house of my God and its services.” “For this also remember me, O my God, and have compassion on me according to the greatness of Your lovingkindness.” “Remember me, O my God, for good.” I think Nehemiah kept asking God to remember his deeds and show favor because he was pissing off a lot of people. But if Nehemiah understood that the sins of one affect the whole people, as he demonstrated by his personal confession in the first chapter, then he knew that these individual sins put the whole people in danger of God revisiting His wrath. They were in it together and needed to hold each other accountable.
I don’t have the answers for how we can fix division in the Western church. But if the book of Nehemiah is any indication of how we can start, I say we start by recognizing our own individual shortcomings and coming to God in repentance. It can’t and won’t stop there, so don’t think that you alone have to bear the burden for millions of people messing up God’s church. Jesus thankfully gave us the Holy Spirit to carry out that part of His plan for us. We can, however, continue to pray for the restoration and teach the Word knowing that Jesus came to heal all things, even the church.
As a culture, punk has confused and disappointed me. People wanted to draw battle lines and shout slogans of unity. As Jello Biafra (vocalist for the Dead Kennedys) said, when you have this supposedly egalitarian movement using words like “us” and “them” without defining either us or them, you leave the defining up to the individual. Suddenly, “them” describes anyone who doesn’t agree with you or your set of friends. Then that golden movement centered around the unity of the individual (again, ha ha ha) splinters into an innumerable amount of impotent subcultures.
When I read that explanation of infighting and splits in the punk movement, my first thoughts were to compare this with the church. I mean, the Reformation was obviously necessary. The church had become uncompassionately wealthy, corrupt, and more focused on politics than holiness. The common man needed to read the scriptures for himself. That sort of thing needed to happen. But then you had centuries of people fighting wars over how to take communion or baptize folks. And so on and so on until today, where literally hundreds of denominations stand as a testimony of disagreement and misdirected anger within the body of Christ. Is it any wonder that the Western Church reminds me of snotty punk kids? If you don’t wear a tie and jacket, you’re not punk… so to speak.
Instead of parroting slogans of unity like I did back in 1997, I wanted to spend time today talking about co-operation within the church by looking at the book of Nehemiah.
In some ways, the Western church is in shambles. Rubble. Burned stones piled in heaps. In the first chapter of his book, Nehemiah is working as a servant for the king of Persia. One day, he asks his brother and some other men how the escaped exiles are faring in Jerusalem. Nehemiah 1:3-6 says, “They said to me, ‘The remnant there in the province who survived the captivity are in great distress and reproach, and the wall of Jerusalem is broken down and its gates are burned with fire.’ When I heard these words, I sat down and wept and mourned for days; and I was fasting and praying before the God of heaven. I said, ‘I beseech You, O LORD God of heaven, the great and awesome God, who preserves the covenant and lovingkindness for those who love Him and keep His commandments, let Your ear now be attentive and Your eyes open to hear the prayer of Your servant which I am praying before You now, day and night, on behalf of the sons of Israel Your servants, confessing the sins of the sons of Israel which we have sinned against You; I and my father’s house have sinned.’”
When I read that passage, I remarked how Nehemiah’s first response to the condition of Jerusalem is to confess his own sins. This was correct, I believe. I mean, it’s easy to look at the condition of the church and assume that it’s someone else’s fault, or everybody else’s fault, but you and me are spotless lambs. Were he still alive at the time of Christ, Nehemiah would have understood what Jesus said in Matthew 7:3-5, “Why do you look at the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ and behold, the log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.”
As we read on in Nehemiah, we’ll find that corporate repentance is also needed before the restoration. For several weeks, the people had been rebuilding the walls at a miraculous pace while resisting opposition from surrounding nations. In chapter 8, after the reconstruction, a priest named Ezra reads from the scriptures in the presence of the whole people all day. As the people listened, God convicted them of their sins as a nation and they fell in repentance together. Then, the people purposed in their hearts to obey God’s commands again. At the end of chapter 8, this is demonstrated with their observance of the Feast of Booths, which had not been celebrated for centuries since the time of Joshua.
I’ve begun to see a pattern in the Bible where God moves powerfully when His people do something together. Whether it’s in repentance (like in Nehemiah 8), or sacrifice (Numbers 7), or praise and dedication (1 Kings 8), God shows up in power.
Also, notice how Ezra didn’t scold the people or heap guilt upon them. He read the word of God and allowed their hearts to bear its conviction. Now we live in an age where the Holy Spirit moves among us. Jesus said in John 16:8 of the Holy Spirit, “And He, when He comes, will convict the world concerning sin and righteousness and judgment.” Although it’s the Holy Spirit’s job to convict people, we can continue to proclaim the word as Ezra did and allow God to work through it.
I’ve heard teaching on Nehemiah a few times. Not a lot aside from a focus on building walls and standing in the gap and stuff. But never have I heard anyone talk about the last chapter of the book. Have you read it? It’s weird. Okay, so get this, Nehemiah goes back to work for the King of Persia and later hears about all sorts of idiocy happening back in Jerusalem. So he returns to set things straight. A priest had taken a room in the temple and made it into a residence for his relative. Nehemiah throws the guy’s stuff out of the temple and has the room cleansed and restored to its proper function. He had to rebuke the people for not tithing to the priests and temple caretakers, who had dispersed in their poverty and left the house of God.
Then he saw that some men were taking their goods into Jerusalem on the Sabbath to sell in the market. He has the gates closed on Sabbath to discourage them from breaking God’s commands, but one night sees them camped outside the gates waiting to be let inside. He said to them in Nehemiah 13:21, “Then I warned them and said to them, ‘Why do you spend the night in front of the wall? If you do so again, I will use force against you.’ From that time on they did not come on the Sabbath.”
But even crazier is what Nehemiah does at the end of the last chapter. He saw that the people were intermarrying with foreigners and in Nehemiah 13:25-27 says, “So I contended with them and cursed them and struck some of them and pulled out their hair, and made them swear by God, ‘You shall not give your daughters to their sons, nor take of their daughters for your sons or for yourselves. Did not Solomon king of Israel sin regarding these things? Yet among the many nations there was no king like him, and he was loved by his God, and God made him king over all Israel; nevertheless the foreign women caused even him to sin. Do we then hear about you that you have committed all this great evil by acting unfaithfully against our God by marrying foreign women?’”
After doing these things, Nehemiah keeps asking God to remember the good that he has done and asks for favor. “Remember me for this, O my God, and do not blot out my loyal deeds which I have performed for the house of my God and its services.” “For this also remember me, O my God, and have compassion on me according to the greatness of Your lovingkindness.” “Remember me, O my God, for good.” I think Nehemiah kept asking God to remember his deeds and show favor because he was pissing off a lot of people. But if Nehemiah understood that the sins of one affect the whole people, as he demonstrated by his personal confession in the first chapter, then he knew that these individual sins put the whole people in danger of God revisiting His wrath. They were in it together and needed to hold each other accountable.
I don’t have the answers for how we can fix division in the Western church. But if the book of Nehemiah is any indication of how we can start, I say we start by recognizing our own individual shortcomings and coming to God in repentance. It can’t and won’t stop there, so don’t think that you alone have to bear the burden for millions of people messing up God’s church. Jesus thankfully gave us the Holy Spirit to carry out that part of His plan for us. We can, however, continue to pray for the restoration and teach the Word knowing that Jesus came to heal all things, even the church.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
God's Merciful Use Of His Mercy - Or, how a seven-year-old can slam-dunk.
A man once approached me at a conference in Indiana and asked if I was Isaiah. When I told him that he’d found the right man, he held up a copy of Stark Raving Obedience and began to thumb through many highlighted pages. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about something,” he said. “You talk a lot about both ‘Faith’ and ‘Belief’.” He read from a passage that talks about a person’s lack of faith versus unbelief. Then he asked, “I still don’t understand the difference between ‘Belief’ and ‘Faith’. You use the words interchangeably throughout the rest of the book. Could you explain this for me?” The best answer I could give him at the time was that he had a copy of the first edition, a three-year-old version full of hilarious typos and half-explanations. Which was more of a commercial for the second edition than an answer.
To be honest, it took a full two weeks before I could confidently define my use of the two words. Belief is when a person mentally ascribes themselves to a system of thought. Faith is when the person begins to apply that system of thought to their lives through action.
Many Christians have historically used the words “Grace” and “Mercy” interchangeably as well. I want to make sure you know what I mean when I say these words. As I understand it, grace is a gift freely given to one who did not earn or deserve the gift. A good example of this is how Boaz treated Ruth in the book of Ruth. She was a foreigner, a widow, and a woman. In that culture, she had no rights, and yet Boaz showed her favor without asking for anything in return. That’s grace.
I’ve heard a few people teach on God’s messy covenant with Abraham in Genesis 15. I first heard it from Ray Vanderlaan, so my credit goes to him here. God promises Abraham that he and his descendants will possess the Promised Land. Abraham asks God, “How am I supposed to know you’re telling me the truth?” So God has Abraham split a cow, a goat, and a ram into halves, placing the halves opposite of each other. This would allow for the animals’ blood to run together and form a sort of path.
Vanderlaan taught that this was a common Bedouin custom for making a covenant. One man would walk through to say, “If I don’t keep my end of the deal, you can split me in two and walk in my blood.” The other man would do the same. An admittedly severe agreement, but this is what God asked of Abraham. Instead of allowing Abraham to walk through the bloody path, God caused Abraham to sleep and spoke His promise. When Abraham awoke, he saw a smoking pot, and then a flaming torch, pass through the halved animals. By doing this, God passed through the path Himself both times as if to say, “If I don’t keep my end of the agreement and uphold my promises, you can kill me and walk in my blood. And if you don’t keep your end of our agreement to follow me as your only God, you can kill me and walk in my blood.”
Of course, Abraham would be the one to break the covenant, but God’s promise was to take the punishment for our failure Himself. This promise was fulfilled with Jesus’s death on the cross. This is the free gift of grace, and it’s ours to accept or deny.
When we do accept Jesus and His forgiveness of our sin, Colossians 3:3 says, “For you have died and your life is hidden with Christ in God.” Many sections of the New Testament teach that our righteousness, justification, and holiness are found in Jesus. This works because we’re hidden in Him. When God looks at us, He doesn’t see our mistakes, our trauma, our sickness, our wounds, or any of that stuff. He sees Jesus. The Old Testament prophets, when telling of the coming Messiah, said He would suffer, be broken, bruised, striped, crushed, and slaughtered for our iniquity, sin, transgression, illness, and infirmity. God doesn’t want to punish us because He already punished Jesus. When we place ourselves under the covering of Jesus’s blood, we’re, well, covered. In 2 Timothy 2:11-13, Paul wrote, “It is a trustworthy statement: For if we died with Him, we will also live with Him; If we endure, we will also reign with Him; If we deny Him, He also will deny us; If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself.”
Of course, just because all of our sins are forgiven doesn’t mean we use grace as an excuse to live an intentional lifestyle of sin. Paul explains this gorgeously in Romans 6. To be sure of God’s grace is to be sure of our salvation in Jesus and this understanding is foundational to the life of every believer.
Mercy is more of a head-scratcher for people, I think. I see mercy as God’s affectionate attitude toward us, His goodwill, and the help He wants to offer. When explaining my idea of mercy to a close friend, I compared it to the brief period of my life when I wanted to play basketball. I was, I don’t know, seven or so, and I wanted to try dunking the ball. I don’t even know if I was four feet tall at the time, but I kept trying to dunk. And I mean repeatedly. I probably stuck my tongue out a few times thinking that was Michael Jordan's secret. My dad laughed as he watched, and I kept saying, “I’ll get it, I’ll get it!” But, come on, there was no way I would dunk that ball. So my dad stepped in and said, “Let me help you.” He lifted me up as I jumped and I was finally able to dunk the ball.
Now, I could have refused his help and insisted that I was going to dunk on my own. But it would have been pathetic of me to really commit to that kind of denial. And it would have been cruel of my dad, or at least way less cool of him, to watch me struggle in futility and demand that I do the impossible without his help. When I let him help me, though, I wanted him to help me over and over again. It was more fun for both of us.
Some people think that God is like the dad who forces the kid to dunk the ball on his own. They feel like failures when they can’t do everything right, or they imagine that God views them as failures, too. But Jesus didn’t come to make us feel like failures. The angels in Luke 2 proclaimed God’s pleasure for us when Jesus was born. God is pleased with us because we’re hidden in Jesus, His beloved son, with whom He is very pleased.
There are parts of scripture that tell us believers should spread the gospel, baptize people, make disciples, heal the sick, and yeah, sometimes, raise the dead. Many Christians don’t see that happening around them. It’s possible that when we try to do these things, we’re under four feet tall and trying to dunk, assuming we’re trying at all. We have to accept the truth that we can’t do it on our own.
But God is there, waiting for us to let Him help. As I read through the book of Isaiah last month, many passages reassured me of God’s mercy. In Isaiah 41:13 says, “For I am the LORD your God, who upholds your right hand, who says to you, Do not fear, I will help you.” Later in Isaiah 46:3-4, God tells His people, “Listen to Me, O house of Jacob, and all the remnant of the house of Israel, you who have been borne by Me from birth and have been carried from the womb; even to your old age I will be the same, and even to your graying years I will bear you! I have done it, and I will carry you; and I will bear you and I will deliver you.” And still later in Isaiah 49:15-16 when Israel says God has forsaken them in a time of need, the Lord replies, “Can a woman forget her nursing child and have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, but I will not forget you. Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands; your walls are continually before Me.”
God wants to help us, to carry us. And He won’t forget us. It’s not possible for Him to forget. Whatever situation you may struggle with, the problem is not on His end. I learned this recently while listening to a recording of John Wimbur. He’s the guy that started the Vineyard Fellowship. He spent a year in agony from the time he began to pray for healing to finally seeing someone healed.
“I mean, God was at every meeting,” he says toward the end of the message. “A wonderful presence. We would worship in total abandonment and weep. People would be converted. It was wonderful. The air would thicken up with His presence. God was with us! We knew it! But we would pray these pitiful prayers. ‘Oh God, if you’re up there, anywhere... If you’ve ever done anything at any time...Here is a worthy subject...’ Have you ever prayed prayers like that? You have too. You’ve prayed prayers just like that. You’re just like me.”
Finally, God miraculously and hilariously healed someone that he prayed for one morning. That day, he said, “I had a vision, a really graphic one. The first I’d ever had before. I was in my car driving. It was a beautiful morning, of course it would be. And all of a sudden, superimposed over the landscape, as far as I could see, is what looked like a cloud bank. It went all the way across the sky. As I looked at it, I realized it wasn’t a cloud bank, it was a honeycomb. It was dripping. And below the honeycomb are people. They were in all kinds of different postures. Some were reverent. They’re weeping. They’ve got their hands out catching this honey. Some are sharing with their friends while others come by and dipping their fingers other peoples’ honey. And still other people are really irritated. They’re trying to get out of this honey because they don’t like it. I pulled over to the side of the road to sit and look at it and said, ‘God, what is this?’ He said, ‘John, that’s my mercy. For some people, it’s a blessing. And for some people, it’s not. John, don’t ever beg me for healing again. Look at it. There’s plenty for everyone. The problem isn’t on my end. The problem is down there where you are.’ Our God sent mercy in His son. He sent His Word to heal them. The problem we have is receiving it.”
Our Father, God, is favorably disposed to us. He wants to help us live and thrive and walk with Him. Sometimes we don’t accept His help because we want to do it on our own. Sometimes He’s waiting for us to drop that victimized, weak sort of prayer that Wimbur described and come to Him confidently as His children, knowing that dad wants to help. Other times, He’s asking us to learn how to remain in Him through the Holy Spirit as Jesus taught in John 16 because that’s where our joy is made complete. But whatever your circumstances are, His grace is available to you through Jesus and His mercy is so abundant it drips down from heaven. It delights Him to lift you high in the air and let you hang on the rim.
To be honest, it took a full two weeks before I could confidently define my use of the two words. Belief is when a person mentally ascribes themselves to a system of thought. Faith is when the person begins to apply that system of thought to their lives through action.
Many Christians have historically used the words “Grace” and “Mercy” interchangeably as well. I want to make sure you know what I mean when I say these words. As I understand it, grace is a gift freely given to one who did not earn or deserve the gift. A good example of this is how Boaz treated Ruth in the book of Ruth. She was a foreigner, a widow, and a woman. In that culture, she had no rights, and yet Boaz showed her favor without asking for anything in return. That’s grace.
I’ve heard a few people teach on God’s messy covenant with Abraham in Genesis 15. I first heard it from Ray Vanderlaan, so my credit goes to him here. God promises Abraham that he and his descendants will possess the Promised Land. Abraham asks God, “How am I supposed to know you’re telling me the truth?” So God has Abraham split a cow, a goat, and a ram into halves, placing the halves opposite of each other. This would allow for the animals’ blood to run together and form a sort of path.
Vanderlaan taught that this was a common Bedouin custom for making a covenant. One man would walk through to say, “If I don’t keep my end of the deal, you can split me in two and walk in my blood.” The other man would do the same. An admittedly severe agreement, but this is what God asked of Abraham. Instead of allowing Abraham to walk through the bloody path, God caused Abraham to sleep and spoke His promise. When Abraham awoke, he saw a smoking pot, and then a flaming torch, pass through the halved animals. By doing this, God passed through the path Himself both times as if to say, “If I don’t keep my end of the agreement and uphold my promises, you can kill me and walk in my blood. And if you don’t keep your end of our agreement to follow me as your only God, you can kill me and walk in my blood.”
Of course, Abraham would be the one to break the covenant, but God’s promise was to take the punishment for our failure Himself. This promise was fulfilled with Jesus’s death on the cross. This is the free gift of grace, and it’s ours to accept or deny.
When we do accept Jesus and His forgiveness of our sin, Colossians 3:3 says, “For you have died and your life is hidden with Christ in God.” Many sections of the New Testament teach that our righteousness, justification, and holiness are found in Jesus. This works because we’re hidden in Him. When God looks at us, He doesn’t see our mistakes, our trauma, our sickness, our wounds, or any of that stuff. He sees Jesus. The Old Testament prophets, when telling of the coming Messiah, said He would suffer, be broken, bruised, striped, crushed, and slaughtered for our iniquity, sin, transgression, illness, and infirmity. God doesn’t want to punish us because He already punished Jesus. When we place ourselves under the covering of Jesus’s blood, we’re, well, covered. In 2 Timothy 2:11-13, Paul wrote, “It is a trustworthy statement: For if we died with Him, we will also live with Him; If we endure, we will also reign with Him; If we deny Him, He also will deny us; If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself.”
Of course, just because all of our sins are forgiven doesn’t mean we use grace as an excuse to live an intentional lifestyle of sin. Paul explains this gorgeously in Romans 6. To be sure of God’s grace is to be sure of our salvation in Jesus and this understanding is foundational to the life of every believer.
Mercy is more of a head-scratcher for people, I think. I see mercy as God’s affectionate attitude toward us, His goodwill, and the help He wants to offer. When explaining my idea of mercy to a close friend, I compared it to the brief period of my life when I wanted to play basketball. I was, I don’t know, seven or so, and I wanted to try dunking the ball. I don’t even know if I was four feet tall at the time, but I kept trying to dunk. And I mean repeatedly. I probably stuck my tongue out a few times thinking that was Michael Jordan's secret. My dad laughed as he watched, and I kept saying, “I’ll get it, I’ll get it!” But, come on, there was no way I would dunk that ball. So my dad stepped in and said, “Let me help you.” He lifted me up as I jumped and I was finally able to dunk the ball.
Now, I could have refused his help and insisted that I was going to dunk on my own. But it would have been pathetic of me to really commit to that kind of denial. And it would have been cruel of my dad, or at least way less cool of him, to watch me struggle in futility and demand that I do the impossible without his help. When I let him help me, though, I wanted him to help me over and over again. It was more fun for both of us.
Some people think that God is like the dad who forces the kid to dunk the ball on his own. They feel like failures when they can’t do everything right, or they imagine that God views them as failures, too. But Jesus didn’t come to make us feel like failures. The angels in Luke 2 proclaimed God’s pleasure for us when Jesus was born. God is pleased with us because we’re hidden in Jesus, His beloved son, with whom He is very pleased.
There are parts of scripture that tell us believers should spread the gospel, baptize people, make disciples, heal the sick, and yeah, sometimes, raise the dead. Many Christians don’t see that happening around them. It’s possible that when we try to do these things, we’re under four feet tall and trying to dunk, assuming we’re trying at all. We have to accept the truth that we can’t do it on our own.
But God is there, waiting for us to let Him help. As I read through the book of Isaiah last month, many passages reassured me of God’s mercy. In Isaiah 41:13 says, “For I am the LORD your God, who upholds your right hand, who says to you, Do not fear, I will help you.” Later in Isaiah 46:3-4, God tells His people, “Listen to Me, O house of Jacob, and all the remnant of the house of Israel, you who have been borne by Me from birth and have been carried from the womb; even to your old age I will be the same, and even to your graying years I will bear you! I have done it, and I will carry you; and I will bear you and I will deliver you.” And still later in Isaiah 49:15-16 when Israel says God has forsaken them in a time of need, the Lord replies, “Can a woman forget her nursing child and have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, but I will not forget you. Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands; your walls are continually before Me.”
God wants to help us, to carry us. And He won’t forget us. It’s not possible for Him to forget. Whatever situation you may struggle with, the problem is not on His end. I learned this recently while listening to a recording of John Wimbur. He’s the guy that started the Vineyard Fellowship. He spent a year in agony from the time he began to pray for healing to finally seeing someone healed.
“I mean, God was at every meeting,” he says toward the end of the message. “A wonderful presence. We would worship in total abandonment and weep. People would be converted. It was wonderful. The air would thicken up with His presence. God was with us! We knew it! But we would pray these pitiful prayers. ‘Oh God, if you’re up there, anywhere... If you’ve ever done anything at any time...Here is a worthy subject...’ Have you ever prayed prayers like that? You have too. You’ve prayed prayers just like that. You’re just like me.”
Finally, God miraculously and hilariously healed someone that he prayed for one morning. That day, he said, “I had a vision, a really graphic one. The first I’d ever had before. I was in my car driving. It was a beautiful morning, of course it would be. And all of a sudden, superimposed over the landscape, as far as I could see, is what looked like a cloud bank. It went all the way across the sky. As I looked at it, I realized it wasn’t a cloud bank, it was a honeycomb. It was dripping. And below the honeycomb are people. They were in all kinds of different postures. Some were reverent. They’re weeping. They’ve got their hands out catching this honey. Some are sharing with their friends while others come by and dipping their fingers other peoples’ honey. And still other people are really irritated. They’re trying to get out of this honey because they don’t like it. I pulled over to the side of the road to sit and look at it and said, ‘God, what is this?’ He said, ‘John, that’s my mercy. For some people, it’s a blessing. And for some people, it’s not. John, don’t ever beg me for healing again. Look at it. There’s plenty for everyone. The problem isn’t on my end. The problem is down there where you are.’ Our God sent mercy in His son. He sent His Word to heal them. The problem we have is receiving it.”
Our Father, God, is favorably disposed to us. He wants to help us live and thrive and walk with Him. Sometimes we don’t accept His help because we want to do it on our own. Sometimes He’s waiting for us to drop that victimized, weak sort of prayer that Wimbur described and come to Him confidently as His children, knowing that dad wants to help. Other times, He’s asking us to learn how to remain in Him through the Holy Spirit as Jesus taught in John 16 because that’s where our joy is made complete. But whatever your circumstances are, His grace is available to you through Jesus and His mercy is so abundant it drips down from heaven. It delights Him to lift you high in the air and let you hang on the rim.
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