The Advent of Power

As we draw near to Christmas, we often see nativity scenes and sing songs that reflect on little baby Jesus. There is nothing wrong with drawing up beside the manger and gazing in wonder at God wrapped in the skin of a helpless, human baby. It is good and right that we wonder at His humility and this miracle.

But there is another side to this story.

The miracle of the incarnation is a moment of incredible power. It was a decisive event in the destiny of the universe, the turning point of history.

When Christ emptied Himself of His divine power and knowledge He performed a deed of breathtaking heroism. His submission in the incarnation was a heroic act of faith, and a dramatic step   in the war in heaven.

The Apostle John was given a vision of what was happening on a cosmic level in the birth of Jesus. He records his vision in the 12th chapter of Revelation. John saw Satan, the enemy of God and of man, trying to prevent the birth of the Christ child and to destroy him, but God preserved the baby's life and Satan was defeated. Notice that he was defeated at the birth of the child.

The birth of Jesus was a military victory in the battle between good and evil.

Is it any wonder that when the angels ambushed those unsuspecting shepherds that they were armed for battle. Luke describes the shepherds as being scared by the appearance of one angel, but imagine their terror when the sky is opened and they were suddenly confronted by a contingent of the heavenly army. One messenger angel was terrifying, I can't imagine the fear inspired by an angelic war host.

The Christmas story is not just about a humble carpenter and his virgin bride in a stable in Bethlehem. There is much more going on there than the simple surroundings would indicate.  This is a momentous occasion of great cosmic importance. The armies of heaven were literally present in Bethlehem that night. Only the shepherds got to see them, but they were there.

The lonely couple far from home, giving birth to this little baby, and laying him in a feeding trough were playing their part in one of the most powerful and pivotal moments of all time.

I wonder what is going on right now? What is God doing around us and through us if we could only see it?

The Advent of Hope

The world is messed up!

There are wars and rumours of wars. There are economic problems, political problems, racial problems, family problems, and the list could go on. Proposed solutions and the people proposing them come and go, but the problems remain. In the midst of all of this, it is easy to become discouraged. Just a quick glance at the headlines on any given day gives us many reasons to despair and few reasons to hope. 

We may imagine that we are living in a uniquely terrible time in history, but many generations have seen similar times and felt similar things. Empires have risen and crumbled and people in those times have lived through a level of pain and chaos that most of us have never experienced. And, I hope we never will. The Jews living in Palestine at the turn of the first century knew more about these things than we do at the end of the twenty-first century. 

They were living under an oppressive foreign regime who installed a puppet king over them. They lived under military occupation and were subject to brutal treatment and crushing taxation. They longed for someone to deliver them. They lived in anticipation that God would intervene and save them, setting them free. They dreamed of the coming of the Messiah, the long delayed fulfilment of the ancient prophecies, already hundreds of years old in their day. 

When Zechariah was ambushed by an angel of God in the temple, the plot began to thicken. Their were rumblings and rumours  not of war but of hope. Could this baby to be born to a barren old woman and a dried up husband be the One? There were whispers in the hills of Judah. God is on the move! There is something special about this child!

But this baby, miraculous though his birth was, was not the One. There was another coming. A birth even more miraculous on the way. Not one originating in the temple, but in a backwater town. Another visitation, and another miraculous pregnancy, this time in a virgin womb. God's only son became flesh, the Spirit of Christ enfleshed in the waiting womb of a willing young woman. Mary was to be the mother of the Our Lord, the Hope of Nations. 

The Advent of Christ was a rebirth of hope. More than that, a fulfilment of hope becoming flesh and dwelling among us. God drew near to us and demonstrated His love in the most tangible way possible, He became one of us. The God who created all things humbled Himself and became part of His creation. He began the remaking that will ultimately be fulfilled when His reign is fully established. But what a beginning He has made!

He is not distant or disengaged. He is not against us. He is one of us. He is among us. He is for us. We can know Him and know that He understands us. He is the reason for and the embodiment of our hope. The hope that came at Christmas!

The "Not Yet"

Recently, I was encouraged to spend some time talking with God about the "not yet" of the Kingdom. As a Christian, I experience this life as a state of perpetual "in between". God has revealed His rule and reign through Jesus Christ, and that reign is current and continuing, but is not yet fully realized. It is real, but not yet complete.

I live in this world, enjoying all that this world has to offer as I live under Him, but I also recognize that this world is not all that it could be, was, or will be. There is a present joyous reality of life with Christ that is interrupted and disturbed by the brokenness in and around me. This life is not all that it should be, it is not yet all that it will be. So I asked the Lord, what is your vision of us and for us?

As I prayed  I was immediately drawn to the theme of revival. As I silently discussed this with the Lord, I found myself asking, “Yes, revival Lord, but what would that look like?” Suddenly my mind was filled with images and ideas of people experiencing God personally, being ambushed by God and surprised by joy. Their joy and encouragement moved them to share their excitement and to become infectiously cheerful. As they were transformed by God’s Spirit they became more free to express what God had put in them and to use their gifts with greater freedom and power than they had previously experienced. They were hearing from God and walking with God day by day, experiencing and sharing.

As I prayerfully reflected on what could be, even in this bent world, I found myself pondering the obstacles.

Why is it that we do not live as free as we actually are? Why do we live discouraged? Why are we so easily distracted from the joy set before us? Why are we not joyously infecting the world with love, joy, and peace? Why is this vision not being more fully experienced and lived out?


The first word that came to mind was “discouragement.” People lack experience with God and this leads to a lack of trust in God, which leads to a lack of hope and boldness. If we really knew as Him as He is, if we knew God experientially, we would be more free and bold to follow Him wherever He might lead and follow Him with joy.

As I pondered why this might not be so, It came to me that that we are making it too complex. Our answers reveal that we have misunderstood the problem.

We tend to offer more information, education, and training; illustrating our belief that a lack of knowledge or technique is the problem. (Not that training is bad, but to the extent that is leads to placing our trust in methodology or technique rather than walking in a dependent and conversational relationship with God, it leads in the wrong direction.)

We (particularly those of us from the Global North and West) have a tendency to trust in our own abilities and strategies. We have been trained to value efficiency, productivity, and control. It seems to me that God is calling me (perhaps us) to a more relational and dependent understanding of Him.

Perhaps the answer is not money, education, power, or control. Perhaps the answer is "to do what is right, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God." (Micah 6:8)

May we not be afraid to be like little children. May we be willing to confess our dependence on Our Father and to walk with The Son under the Inspiration of The Holy Spirit. May we commit ourselves to learning to discern the voice of the Good Master rather than mastering methods and techniques. May we learn to walk humbly with Our God.

Please Empty Your Pockets

I travel a fair bit. I can't begin to count the times I've emptied my pockets before being allowed through security. It's a ritual of air travel now. Perhaps that's why I was so so taken aback by a picture suddenly appearing to my mind's eye as I reflected on the miracle of Christmas this morning.

In my imagination, I saw the eternal Son of God, the Christ, emptying His pockets. As I continued to ponder the image, I let my myself imagine the conversation in heaven between the Father and the Son, just prior to the incarnation, and I watched as the scene unfolded in my mind.

The Father tenderly says, "It's time son."

The Son looks deep into the soul of the Father and says "I know...I am ready to go. This is a good plan, and yet...I am afraid of what will happen on this trip."

I understand my son. We have always been together, but for a little while it will be different. For a little while you must lay aside what you have known and truly be one of them.

Can I take my power? The power I used when we made the universe together.

No my son, you must leave that here.

Can I take my wisdom? The wisdom I have gained in our eternal relationship, the wisdom I have gained in the years I have watched our children upon the earth."

No, you must leave that here. You will grow in wisdom while you are there.

Can I take my knowledge? The knowledge of all things from the beginning of time.

No, you must learn. You must learn how to walk and how to speak. Imagine the eternal Word learning the language of our children.

Can I take my glory? The radiant glory that dazzles and shines.

No. That too you must leave here.

Can I take my all-sufficiency, my independence?

No. You will be entirely helpless. You will not even be able to feed or clothe yourself. You will drink your first meal from a human breast and be utterly dependent upon your earthly parents. You must leave all these things behind. 

But how will I protect myself? We know how violent and unpredictable they can be! What if they try to kill me before our plan is complete?

You won't protect yourself. You will be utterly vulnerable. You will have to trust me. I will watch over you and no evil will harm you until the proper time.

So, what do I take with me then? Can I take nothing from heaven to earth?

Just yourself. Only you, your essence, your spirit poured into a frail human embryo in the womb of a teenage girl. You will start from there and show them Us through one of them. You will show them Us, our Spirit, our Character, by living just as they do. You will be Emmanuel. You will be Us with them.  

Okay Father. I have emptied myself, I am ready to go...

I don't pretend to know what happened in heaven, but I can only imagine. Imagine what it must have been like for the perfect Son to contemplate leaving heaven. Imagine what it must have been like to empty Himself as He prepared to humble Himself and live in a human body. Imagine the miracle of the incarnation again this Christmas!

The immense, eternal, limitless Creator of the Universe poured into a tiny baby in a virgin's womb.

Just imagine!

More

My family likes to joke. We like a bit of good natured teasing about our idiosyncrasies and the funny things we do.

One of the sayings that we have adopted to poke fun at my general approach to life is: "If one is good, two is better. If two is better, then three is outstanding. If three is outstanding then four is just great!"

I am a person who always thirsts for more. It is deep in me. I see it in all areas of my life. It's not a choice I make, it is core to who I am to want more. There is a passion and extremeness inside of me that is just there. I didn't put it there, I don't know how it got there, but it's there. It's not always a bad thing as it has propelled me forward in my relationship with God and to attempt things that others might not.

The Enneagram has been a helpful tool for me to understand this aspect of my personality. I have found other personality/temperament tools helpful for other reasons, but this aspect of me was never adequately addressed through the DISC, the MBTI, or the Kolbe. Don't get me wrong, I have profited from all of these, but this core aspect of me was inadequately explained.

A few years ago a friend introduced me to the Enneagram and I began to wrestle with the definitions. The model has 9 core personality types. One of the key ways to identify your type is to look at all of them and identify the one that repulses you most. That is probably you, the one that includes your core sinful predisposition. The one you don't want to be. The negative traits of other types actually seem less negative than the one your left with.

This is hard, but Enneagram is a useful tool for spiritual formation in that it pushes you to identify your core disposition  the good the bad and the ugly. Who wants to stand up and say, "Hi I'm an Eight and my core sin is lust!" Even worse is when some else says, "Oh yeah, you're an Eight all right. Lust is totally your thing...lust and confrontation!"

So, I'm an Eight. Now what!?

While the Enneagram identifies your weaknesses, it is essentially a tool for self-awareness and growth. By giving me awareness and understanding I can choose to grow. I can choose to stop acting in ways that re-enforce the negative aspects of me and to cultivate the opposite traits, while not losing the positive elements that accompany my type.

So why am I writing about this today. Because I have been puzzling over certain behaviours and wondering what drives me. Specifically, last night I stayed up until 4AM. No good reason. I just didn't feel tired. So, I read a little, researched some, watched some videos, and generally just puttered around until 4AM. I wasn't doing anything bad, just not going to bed because I wasn't "tired".

Today I'm tired. I sat down with the Lord this morning and my reading was in Matthew 11 where Jesus invites those who are weary to come to Him and rest. That sounded really good this morning, but why didn't it sound good last night? As I sat there pray-pondering it occurred to me that I have redefined tired as exhausted. I don't feel "tired" until I am well beyond actual tiredness and I'm at total exhaustion.

As I pondered this, I suddenly realized that this too is a part of being an Eight. I started to take stock of my life and realize that I tend to redefine everything in the extreme. At meals I push right past satiated to stuffed. I zoom past tired on the way to exhaustion. I don't go for a short walk, I walk for miles. I don't do a little gardening; once I'm started, I garden for hours.

So, today I am aware in a new way, and because I am aware I have choices to make. I can choose moderation. I can try to rediscover normal tiredness. I can choose not to push myself or others to extremes but can choose moderation and relaxation.

This seems to be the call of God for me today. I'm just glad he showed up this morning. He's good like that.

Instant Maturity

I was talking to a friend today about growth. He is growing and it is my privilege to walk alongside him on this leg of the journey. As we were talking, he mentioned how discouraged he was that he was not further along.

I resonate with that. There have been many times in my life that I find myself wondering how long I will continue to struggle in the same area. How many times I will make the same mistakes?Many of us are not where we want to be, where we aspire to be. We want to be further on in our walk, more mature, and we want it yesterday. (On the other hand, I see many who have implicitly decided that more is not possible. They have fallen into apathy and self-satisfaction, but that is a topic for another day.)

As I talked to my friend this morning, our conversation meandered to the topic of trees. He told me that it takes seven to eight years for a fruit tree to reach maturity. It starts can start to bear fruit within 3 years but has a long way to go to maturity. We can create the right environment for growth and protect it from impediments to growth, but ultimately it just takes that long for it to grow to maturity. It is unrealistic to expect a tree to grow faster than it will grow. It would be silly to get frustrated at a tree for not growing faster.

I think that we are often frustrated with our growth because we have been given false expectations. We live in a post-industrial information age. We have grown used to mechanistic growth and the idea that a new and improved formula can produce greater, faster, and more efficient growth than ever before. We are accustomed to nearly instant everything.  This mindset has crept into all areas of our life including our spiritual life and has warped our expectations.

This unrealistic cultural expectation is further exacerbated by an over simplistic understanding of the Gospel. We have reduced the gospel to merely the atonement, ie. getting saved. While it is true that the death and resurrection of Christ is the central historical fact of the Christianity, the Gospel is much more than simply that. The Good News is that we have been invited into a relationship with the Triune God. The atoning sacrifice of Christ makes this possible, but the Good News is more than just getting saved. We can enter into a vibrant, live giving relationship with God that begins here and now and lasts forever. This is the Gospel.

Like any relationship, it begins at some point, but the beginning is not the end. It is merely the launching point for a new kind of life, a life with God. It takes time for us to grow to maturity. It will be years, not days or weeks, or even months from spiritual birth to maturity. We must not be too hard on ourselves in the process, but neither should we give up the pressing on that is required of us. We must do all we can to eliminate the things that will impede our growth and to build into our lives the things that will promote it, but ultimately we grow organically at the rate of the Spirit. The Spirit is not slow as some understand slowness, and neither does He move too fast.

At just the right speed, He is creating the new and improved version of me. One day at a time, one small step of growth at a time, I am being made mature and complete. I am not there yet, but I am on the way.

God's Terrible Inefficiency

I realized again today how much my perspective is shaped by who I am. I am driven by efficiency and productivity. I am always asking how to improve something or how to derive more from less, how to work smarter not harder. This drive is partially a result of my basic personality type, but has been continuously reinforced by my culture and education.

Today I was bemoaning a particular ineffeciency.  I was telling my wife that the return on my investment in a particular project was inadequate. I was arguing against doing something like it again. She listened to my rant patiently then gently asked a question, "Did you do what God asked you to do?"

"Yes!" I answered, "I did, but God is so terribly inefficient!" Suddenly I realized that Jesus had really mishandled his ministry, had botched his opportunity to make the kind of big impact that he could have made. First, there is a question of timing. He was born in a time and place where his voice could not be heard globally. Certainly, it would have made more sense for him to be born now with ubiquitous global media available to spread his message and broadcast his miracles. There was no recording equipment, no TV, no radio, no internet. He could reach more people in one day with a webpage and a twitter account than he could in 33 years of wandering around preaching to people in person back then. What was He thinking?!

Second, there is a question of social and economic clout. Even if we grant that it was a good idea to be born then, He should have picked a better situation for himself. He was born into a poor peasant family in a backwards province far from the centres of power. He made no effort to use the established systems of influence in government or religious circles. Instead, he recruited a bunch of misfit hicks to follow him around, and wasted his time blessing children and even going so far as to tell people NOT to tell others about what he had done for them. Certainly the lessons of guerilla marketing and viral marketing were lost on him. Again, I have to ask myself, What was He thinking?!

I could totally have done a better job. I could really have helped Jesus to be more efficient and productive. Jesus needed a strategic plan and a marketing team. (Perhaps even a glossy brochure.) He wasted so much of his time talking to people like the woman at the well, or the woman caught in adultery. He should have been focusing on those with more clout. He should have spent more time networking and developing contacts with the decision makers, the influential people. He could have really accomplished so much more! When he died, even the few followers he had were scattered. All power in heaven and earth had been entrusted to him! He used this power to wash feet?! What was He thinking?

As I allowed this train of thinking to flow from my unconscious to my conscious thoughts, it became so clear. God's economy is simply not mine. He chooses to work in ways that appear to be terribly inefficient, and I find that personally frustrating. Often, it seems like He is wasting my time and energy. I want to improve on His plan.

But there is a freedom that comes from seeking to know and do His will. If I choose to live in light of His actual presence and sovereignty, I can actually relax. When I release my imaginary brillance, the fiction of my control, I can find rest for my soul. Isn't this where Job ends up. He wrestles with God (and God commends Him for his honest arguing) but the answer was not what Job expected. God didn't answer the specifics of Job's questions, instead He offered Himself to Job. He reminded Job of His true nature and character. He showed Job His greatness and Job felt appropriately small before Him. Job repented and found rest for His soul.

I am after the peace that surpasses all understanding. It is interesting that prayer is the doorway to this peace. In prayer we acknowledge our smallness and dependency. We come to God and lay our requests before him with a heart of gratitude then the peace of Christ guards our hearts and our minds. We can find our rest in Him and let Him do what really is best. Only He knows what is really best, only He knows the end from the beginning. So, the terrible inefficiency serves a perfect purpose, but only He is capable of working it all together for the good, for my good and the good of His Kingdom. 

Skylarks and Writing

Yesterday I took a long walk through the fields. I spent some of the time praying for people I love and some of it laughing at my dog and her ridiculous enjoyment of her romp.

It was a gusty blustery day. The wind came howling off the water, up and over the cliffs. Sea spray was whisked off the waves and strewn across the meadows near the edge. It was a wild and wonderful day to be out in nature. I was even more alone than usual as most people had sense enough to stay indoors, but I loved it. Drinking in the wildness and the power, I was reminded that this is but a pale reminder of the power of God.

I rarely pause and sit on days like this, but as I came to a place that was partially sheltered from the wind, I decided to sit and take it all in. I found a springy bit of turf and long grass and settled into a little hollow. As I did, I noticed bird song wafting through the air. Over the din of wind and waves, a beautiful song sailing along. A single song from the throat of a creature I couldn't see. I could tell is was coming from far above me. I strained my eyes to find the source.

It took me a bit of searching to locate the tiny bird high in the sky. A single tiny bird struggling to gain altitude and singing his heart out. It was a skylark. He had ventured up into the sky on a violently windy day to sing his song in the hope that a female might be wooed by the beauty of his song and join him in the nest he had made in the meadow below. I watched for nearly 10 minutes as his song varied and changed, repeating themes. All the while his little body was being battered and flung about by the wind; his wings beating furiously, his song unwavering.

Then, suddenly, he dropped from the sky as if he had been shot. He dropped straight down probably 100 meters. Just above the ground his free fall morphed into an elegant swoop and with a flutter, he was gone; back into the nest he had created. His song stilled, his exhaustion complete.

I sat silently marvelling at the scene I hat witnessed. Wondering... Was I the only one who heard his song?  It seemed like a lot of fruitless effort. Such hard work, for what return? He utterly spent himself flinging his song into the universe, pouring all his effort into its creation, only to drop exhausted to the earth.

As I lay there in the grass pondering this, I felt the gentle call to self-reflection and conversation with the Father. I realized that my writing is much like the skylark. I have laboured long and hard to create, to express the song within me. I have striven to put my heart on a page and have flung it into the world, inviting others to learn from my lessons to profit from my pain. I am hopeful that it is not in vain, but in the end, I drop exhausted from the effort and wondering if any have heard my song.

What makes the skylark sing? What makes me write? He is compelled by instinct; an instinct placed within him by the all loving Father. I am compelled by the love of God and something in me cries out to be expressed in words. I believe that this too has been placed there by the Father. And so, he sings and I write all to the glory of God; not knowing what comes next, only playing our role as best we know how.

Picking blackberries

Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God,
But only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round and pick blackberries."
— Elizabeth Barrett Browning

I was out walking through the hedgerows and over the fields today. As I walked I was lost in thought and in prayer.  I was hardly aware of my surroundings. Then, I spotted a thorny blackberry branch sticking out into my path. It was covered with ripening blackberries. I thanked God for this small gift and decided to have a little snack.

I did not grow up in a berry picking area. Last year my children and I took small buckets and went berry picking, sharing this first with one another. It was really fun! Very few of the berries found there way to the buckets as our purple fingers and tongues testified to our indulgence. As we picked, we discovered that a truly ripe blackberry needs only a slight tug to come off. If it doesn't come of easily in your hand, you leave it, knowing that it is not ripe yet.

Today, I walked along, spotting and enjoying the blackberries springing out of the hedgerows and lining my path. I tried to select just the right berries. I thought about the fun that the kids and I will have as the berry bonanza continues over the next few weeks. As I walked, I spotted a particularly delicious looking berry. It was full and dark. It looked perfect.

As I reached for it, I was careful to spot the thorns around it and to thread my hand through to it safely. I gently grasped it between my fingers and gave it a little tug. It did not come off as I expected. I looked at it again, convinced that it was right for the picking. I pulled a little harder. Nothing happened. A little frustrated, I gave it a firm jerk. As I did so, the branch bent and the surrounding thorns found my hand and arm.

I retrieved my wounded arm, examining the scratches as well as the berry I was now holding. It looked great! My mouth was watering as I popped it in. My taste buds were in for a rude shock, as the berry was sour and woody rather than tender and sweet. It looked so good, but it was not ripe. I shook my head at my folly. 

As I spat the sour fruit of my impatience out on the ground, I found myself wondering what that was all about. I realized that this small incident was an illustration of my approach to life and ministry. I survey the world around me, see opportunities, analyze the cost benefit ratio, and grab for what seems best to me. It all happens so fast that I find myself scratched and frustrated before I know what has happened.

I wonder what it would be like...If I would only slow down. If I would be more patient. If I would reach out a bit more tentatively and less grasping. If I would be less insistent and more responsive. If I would trust God to produce the ripeness and allow the unripe fruit to remain unpicked until He has made it ready. What would my ministry look like? What sourness and scratches might I avoid?

Ministering to the Lord

As I read this morning, I was struck by this phrase, "bless the Lord". It sounds strange in my ears. "The Lord is the source of blessing," I thought. "He does not need to be blessed."  Then I remembered the phrase "ministering to the Lord." I looked it up and found that it occurs several places in the Scriptures. 

As I pondered this, I wondered why it sounds strange to me. ministering to the Lord and blessing the Lord were important, even central, aspects of the life of faith in the Old and New Testament periods. Why do they sound so strange to me?

Then I realized that we have exchanged "ministering to the Lord" with "ministry for the Lord." We have subtly moved God out of the center and moved the focus of our lives onto the work. This new perspective puts us at the center. It is a way of subtly exalting ourselves and what we can do for Him. It puts the focus on us, or perhaps on "the lost". We wrap our idolatry up in spiritual sounding language.

He invites us to minister to Him, to bless Him, to enter into real relationship with Him. Then, He does the work. He does the saving. He does the ministering. From that place of humility and dependence He sets us aside for the work that He has for us (Acts 13). We tend to identify what we think we should be done and to ask Him to empower our plans, our methodologies, and our efforts. Then, as our plans succeed, we praise the Lord while siphoning of some of the glory for ourselves because we were the ones doing the ministering.

We need to recover the centrality of God. We need to place Him at the center. We need to focus our lives on ministering to Him rather than for Him. I choose this again today. I choose to wait on the Lord. I choose to bless the Lord. I choose to minister to the Lord.

Production and Patience

I find myself torn between two poles.  On the one hand I feel strongly that we are engaged in a battle and that we must be zealous and active in the fight.  On the other hand, I know that God is sovereign and is in control of all things. I was thinking and praying about this as I walked on the beach the morning.  I was feeling SO burdened by some specific situations.  I was moved by the immediacy of the problems and was interceding.  I was begging God to bare His arm and win the victory.  I was on the verge of despair that He could do anything, or would do anything, when I noticed the action of the waves.  The tide was going out, so the waves were not crashing, but instead gently rolling up and down between the rocks and over the sand.  I noticed that the rocks were well worn; some had taken on impossible shapes beneath the steady motion of the waves.  I saw the sand being pushed up and down the beach by the surf.  I saw small pebbles rolling around beneath the water, on their way to becoming sand themselves. It was then I was reminded of the inexorable coming of the Kingdom of God.

God is moving and His Kingdom is coming, but all in His own mysterious time and paradoxical ways.  I feel such an urgency an impatience for God to move!  I want His Kingdom to come and His will to be done NOW!  I don't think this is all bad, but I see that our sense of urgency and activity often leads us to make subtle choices that lead us away from dependence on God.  It seems that what we want is results, people saved, children fed, schools built, churches planted, families transformed, or cultures redeemed.  Being heirs to the industrial and information revolutions, we then set out to design and build systems that will efficiently and effectively produce the results that we need, that we believe God wants to see happen.

Unfortunately, our reliance on these systems and our efforts to perfect them often causes us to lose our way.  Ultimately our goal is not the production of particular results, good though they may be, but rather, as Jesus taught, God's Kingdom to come and His will to be done on earth as it is in heaven.   The reign of God is massive!  It is much bigger and more complex than we can imagine.  We understand very little about the universe we live in, and even less about the God who created it all.  His Kingdom is mysterious and even paradoxical.  It has so many aspects, contains so many interactions, and has so many simultaneously moving parts!  It is organic and dynamic, it cannot be placed under a microscope and dissected to unlock the secrets.  When we attempt to do this, we reduce the movement of the Spirit to the distillation and application of principles.  We lose the life of the Spirit, but we gain the illusion of control and efficiency.

Oh, but we are an impatient people!  The movement of God sometimes takes much longer than we would expect.  The waves are an ineffecient way to shape stones and to make sand.  So, we devise machines.  We research, discover, and apply the laws of physics and harness what powers we can to accomplish our goals.  We are efficient and effective as we improve upon God's methods.  We never equal His grace and beauty, but no matter because we can do it faster.  Unfortunately, there is more to what God is doing with the waves than just making sand, more than we can possibly understand.

When we skip the process to achieve the end we end up missing both.  We can produce sand and gravel from stones, but that is only a small part of what God is doing; one small part of His grand design.  The marvelous interactions of all that is happening on the beach are part of an intricate dance that we can pick apart but never duplicate.  Behind it all is the hidden hand of God.  He calls us to enter in with Him and to take an active role, but also not to overestimate our own prowess or importance.  We are each like one wave on the beach.  We matter, we have a role, but it is all so much bigger than us.  So, we must take our part in the line of waves accomplishing the will of God by measures and asking Him to give us both the patience and the endurance to keep going.

Getting Ahead

I hesitate to write this blog because it is yet another blog about a dog.  Although I am reading scripture, praying, journaling, involved in community, and have weekly accountability meetings with a couple of men, the Lord seems to be speaking to me most clearly, at this time, during my walks across the countryside with my dog.  I am not sure why that's the case, or how long it will continue, but I am afraid that my blog may have a few more "dog entries" before long.

The dog, Oreo, is growing so fast these days and is now able to climb over most of the stiles herself.  It has been fun to watch her grow in size and in confidence.  She is no longer completely terrified when we meet a larger dog and approaches the horses and cows we meet on her own.  She even went so far as to chase a flock of sheep the other day, which she thought was great fun. 

A couple of days ago I was out again with Oreo.  As we walked the now familiar paths she ranged farther afield.  At times she was 50-100 feet ahead of me.  I smiled at her confidence, and watched as she climbed up and over a stile at the far side of the field.  She looked back at me just before she dissappeared over the other side, as if to say, "Are you coming!?"  When I came to the stile and looked over, she had wandered on ahead even further down the path we often take.  What she didn't know is that I was going a different direction that day. 

I had a different destination in mind.  The beginning stages of our path were the same, but I decided to take a different path through some fields that we had never walked before.  Oreo was running ahead.  I enjoyed her exuberance and laughed to myself as I watched her explore.  I was less amused when I was calling her to follow me but she kept to her own path. 

Later on the way home, I was reminded of the danger of getting ahead of God.  How often do I run on ahead assuming that the path today is the same as yesterdays?  How many times to I get confused when He turns left when I thought we were going right?  How many times am I impatiently looking back at Him asking, "Are you coming with me or what?!"  I need to learn to fix my eyes on Him.  I need to wait upon the Lord instead of assuming that the natural or familiar path is the one that He has marked for me.

As I approach the new year I am wondering about the future and what it will hold.  I am hoping that this year I will not get ahead of God. 

The Natural and the Supernatural

Being Christ like does not come naturally to me.  I am bent.  I have a predisposition to sin.  Not only that, but I have spent years doing what comes naturally.  I have programmed by body and my soul to respond to certain situations or stimuli in strictly natural ways.  Like one of Pavlov's dogs I hear the "bell" of stress and turn to escape.  I hear the bell of difficulty and turn to procrastination.  I have a natural tendency to turn away from God, and to seek my own way, and I have further strengthened these natural tendencies by developing sinful habits of heart, mind, and body.

Everyone of us has turned away from God.  We turn away from the Fountain of Living Water and dig cisterns for ourselves, broken cisterns that can't even hold water.  I have returned to my cisterns so often that there are now deep ruts leading to them.  It is hard to pull in another direction when my nature and my habitual way of living lead me down the well worn path.  My culture in another accomplice to my crimes.  Our cultures normalize and enshrine our cisterns.  We are surrounded by others not only doing the same things but also giving approval to our choices.  They actively recruit people to drink from the cisterns, and profit off of the enslavement to the natural.

God offers us freedom.  He offers us His very Spirit to live inside of us and lead us to new ways of living.  If we say that we don't need Him we lie.  If we say we don't sin, we lie.  But, if we confess our sins He is faithful and just to forgive us and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.  From that place of humble surrender and gracious forgiveness He leads us, as often as we need it, back to the Fountain of Living Water. 

As we try to forget what is behind and press on for the prize, He is at work within us to will and to work His good pleasure for us.  The ruts are still there, but He calls us to abandon them, He empowers us to choose the supernatural life over the natural. We are not alone.  He will never leave us or forsake us.  It may always be more natural for me to sin than to live like Jesus, but it is getting a little easier than it used to be.  The road is long, the temptations are great, but greater is He who is in us than He who is in the World.

Stealing His Glory

One of the things that I appreciate about scripture is the way that it records the real lives of people who have followed God, warts and all. There is no putting a nice spin on sleeping with your daughter in law, or giving your wife to another man to avoid a potential threat to your own safety. The stories of the men and women in scripture are not written to glorify them, but rather to point to the nature and character of God.

The stories are meant to glorify God. By recording for posterity not just the victories, but also the struggles and outright failures of these men and women God receives glory and we receive hope. If even a man after God's own heart can commit murder and adultery, then there is hope for a man like me.

I find modern biographies to be more sanitized, and at times even discouraging. By lionizing the leaders of churches and ministries are we not glorifying the man or woman at the expense of the glory of God. I find myself wondering at the saintliness and giftedness of the leaders and wondering if I measure up. I find myself impressed with them and their ministries rather than inspired to step out into ministry myself.

But, if I am honest, I have to acknowledge my own propensity to hide the warts and trumpet "my achievements". In my own heart, I am guilty of trying to steal some of God's glory all too often. I want people to like me. I want people to think that I am gifted and to respect me, to speak well of me. The fact that this comes so naturally to me does not mean that it's not wrong. All kinds of sin comes naturally to me, all too naturally.

I don't mean that we need to share everything with everyone, but when we seek to glorify ourselves even subtly, are we not seeking to keep a bit of the praise that we should be reflecting to the Father for ourselves; sort of skimming off the top before we pass it along. Is it not a form of spiritual embezzlement? I don't want to steal even a portion of His glory. So, I resolve to live with integrity and to share the whole story so that He can get the whole glory.

The One Fixed Point

I have never had any desire to be a nomad. Nomads have no fixed home, instead they move from place to place taking whatever they can carry with them as they travel. Most nomads are pastoralists, driving their herds to the places where they can be find food and water and shelter from whatever weather is threatening them. My family and I are nomads, but we're not the ones doing the driving or choosing the next location, or even the time to move. We are nomads being driven along by God.

During the exodus, the Israelites left their homes and the only life they had ever known to follow God out of slavery and into the Promised Land. But, before He took them to the promised land, He trained them to follow Him and to trust Him. He appeared to them in a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night. Whenever the pillar would move on, they would follow. Whenever the pillar would stop, they would stop. This has been something like my experience. Sometimes we have lived someplace for years, the longest has been 6 years, and sometimes for just days.

For the last 10 months we have been particularly nomadic. It is really wearing on us. Even after more than 10 years of a generally nomadic existence we still long for stability. We long for a little patch of earth with some kind of structure on it to be "our home". When we don't have this we feel unstable in our souls. I wasn't raised to be a nomad. It just doesn't feel right to me. I want a stable place that belongs to me; my own personal castle and private domain. Ah, there's the rub! God wants all of me, and He wants to be the Lord of every part of me, which leaves me know personal domain, no private fiefdom.

In the second book of C. S. Lewis' Space Trilogy, Paralandra, the one command that God gives to the perfect couple is that they live on the ever moving islands of paradise and never spend the night on the fixed land. As the protagonist struggles to understand the command he realizes that it is because God wants to remain their one fixed point. As long as they are on the moving islands they have to totally trust in Him. Their obedience demonstrates their trust in Him.

God is training me like the Israelites of old to trust in Him, to follow Him, o rely on Him. And like the Israelites of old I resist the training. I fail to trust, I fail to rely, but I can not fail to follow.

Losing Focus

Yesterday I was humbled by worship yet again. I was standing at a church service when God ambushed me again through the words of a song. He has a tendency to sneak past my defenses as I worship in song. This time it was the line "there is one great love" from David Crowder's version of "O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing". All of a sudden, as I was singing those words, I was convicted and comforted all at the same time.

I was struck by my adulterous heart and how prone it is to wander from the God I love. (And even as I type I recognize that those last few words are from "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing", the residual effects of a previous worship ambush). I lose focus SO easily. There in that moment, I was reminded that there is one great love, one consuming passion, that drives me, or at least should drive me. I was reminded of how I had spent the last 2 nights staying up WAY too late playing a video game. The video game was not the problem as there is nothing particular objectionable in the game I was playing, but rather as I was playing in the wee hours of the morning I was aware of the time and that I should really turn it off. There was a voice in my head saying something like, "Is this really that important? You'll be sorry tomorrow. You'll be tired and cranky. How will you love your kids well? How will you love your wife well? How will you be able to spend time with me?" I am not confident enough to say that it was the voice of God clearly speaking those words in my head, rather an impression in my soul that when verbalized takes on those words.

The interesting thing was my response in that moment. I simply blocked out the impression. I choose to ignore the wisdom of God. Sure enough, the next morning I was tired and cranky and sorry I had stayed up so late. But, here's the irony, I did the same thing again the next night. And again, the next night, I blocked out the voice, like a child putting his fingers in his ears and shouting, "LA LA LA LA LA LA, I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!!" I decided to do what I wanted to do, what felt good at the moment, regardless of the consequences. I praise God that my addictions are relatively less damaging than the ones I used to indulge, but the problem of my heart is just the same. I lose focus much too easily and have a proclivity for willfulness. I say I want to pursue God and to learn to hear His voice and obey, and yet I am prone to wander.

So, during worship, when I was singing, God reminded me that there is "one great love: Jesus" and that He loves me, even when I am a willful knucklehead. He really is worth listening too. He really is worth pursuing. He really is my one great love. I just forget to remember.

Oh Me of Little Faith

I have had several situations recently that have revealed to me how weak my faith really is. Recently, I have experienced a number of disappointing, frustrating, and downright painful things in my life. As these things have happened, I find myself struggling to really trust God. The details of the situations are not important, but what they have shown me about myself and about God is vitally important. It's not that I'm in danger of walking away from Christ, but rather that I am realizing how superficial my trust is.

When things are going well and seem to be progressing as I had imagined, or hoped, then my faith seems steady and unassailable, but when things take an unexpected and disappointing turn I find myself slipping. I find anger welling up inside. I find myself wanting to escape from reality and to deny my feelings. I find myself not actually trusting.

It's easy for me to talk about faith when none is required, but it is harder when I pray and the things I ask for don't happen. I find it hard to trust that God is for me and is working all things together for my good and for the good of the Kingdom when what I want and what He wants don't seem to be the same thing. On some level I want what He wants, but on another level I really want what I want. I'm pretty sure that I know best. I don't trust Him when He doesn't do what I want.

Like a petulant child I find myself pouty and grumpy when I ask for something that I think should be granted. Imagine the temerity of God not to listen to me and do what I ask. How dare He!?! The fact is, that something very like this happens in my heart. It seem heretical to write it or to acknowledge it, but that's where I am in my journey. I suppose it is good to have the state of my heart revealed and to find out that my faith really is considerably smaller than a mustard seed. It does not feel good, but it is good.

I take comfort in the fact that there are many of little faith who have gone before me and who have shown that faith can in fact grow. More than that, I take comfort in the promise that faith is a gift of God, not a result of works. So, I can (and do) ask God to give me more faith so that I might trust Him better and bring Him more glory. I'm sure this is a request that He will not deny.

On The Road

I have been traveling for the last couple of weeks, thus the lack of blogging. Actually I am not just traveling, I am in the process of moving. I have packed up my household and have entered into a type of nebulous and nomadic existence. I feel like the Lord has asked me to leave where we were living and working and to follow Him to the place where He will show us. At this point we have no solid idea of where that will be, but we have left our home behind in an attempt to follow. We are trusting that He will guide and direct us in His good time and that He will not abandon us along the road.

This is definitely a faith journey as well as a physical one. If I am honest there is a niggling fear at the back of my mind that having pulled up stakes we might find ourselves wandering in a desert without a guide. I hear the desperation in Moses prayer, "If you do not go with us, please don't make us go!" There is the fear that perhaps He has led us out into this wilderness and will not lead us to the other side. There is also a real fear that perhaps we have misheard or misunderstood. I want to know the destination and how to get there, but He refuses to tell me. I find myself longing for a road map more than for a pillar of fire and smoke. Instead He is with me on the journey and assures me of His presence. He asks me to trust Him and to simply walk with Him day by day.

I am comforted by the fact that He has never abandoned us. He has been faithful to guide us and direct us every step of the way. It is true that this guidance was not always with manifest presence, but it is clear in hindsight. Looking back I can see that He has been ever present and has been guiding me in paths of righteousness for His Name's sake. He will not abandon me because He promises never to leave me or forsake me. He promises to be with me always, even to the end of the age. His honor and glory are at stake.

So, we have ventured out into the unknown, not knowing what is before us and trusting that He truly has spoken to us and beckoned us to follow Him into this wilderness. I trust that He has many lessons to teach us on this journey as He taught the Israelites in the deserts of Sinai.

Submission

Submission is not something that we generally emphasize in the West. We emphasize initiative, action, planning, creative solutions, etc... All of these are good things, but I am realizing how hard, and how unnatural, it is for me to submit. Perhaps this is just human nature, but it seems to me that submission is particularly difficult for those of us raised in the West. In America in particular, we are raised to be strong individuals who look out for ourselves. In the scandalous era in which we live, we have learned cynicism and distrust rather than submission. Authority is something to be questioned, power is something to be balanced, kings are to be overthrown. In this context how can we look on submission with anything short of incredulity and skepticism.

I am very much a product of my culture. Living and working overseas for roughly a decade has stretched my horizons, but has also shown me how much my own culture has influenced me in ways that are subtle and often hard to identify. I find myself struggling with submission. I praise God that He has taken me through a training school of hard knocks to teach me to submit to the leaders that He has placed over me, and yet, deep in my heart there lies a lack of submission to God specifically. I am finding submission especially difficult lately because it seems that He has assigned me a particularly odious task.

It seems like God's marching order for me these days is to wait. He continually draws me to passages with this emphasis and the quiet witness of the Spirit in my heart is to wait, to be still. Just this evening I was reminded of Is. 30. The people of Israel would not wait for the Lord and His plan for them. Instead they made plans to save themselves. The Lord responds in verse 15: “In repentance and rest is your salvation,in quietness and trust is your strength,but you would have none of it." I find so much of my own journey reflected in the attitudes and actions of the Israelites.

I am a man of action. I need something to do, a mountain to climb, a challenge to overcome, a task to accomplish. I want to move things along, to drive things. Sometimes I think I would rather move in the wrong direction rather than just sit still. So, the Lord is asking me to wait, to be still and know that He is God, to rest in quietness and trust. This is among the toughest assignments He could give me. Waiting on Him is contrary to my heart, my culture, my personality, my training. Everything in me screams to get moving, to plan the next steps, to think my way out of the doldrums; but He tells me to wait, to be still, to trust. So, here I am waiting, praying that He will speak and release me from the prison of stillness, learning to submit to the King of the Universe.

The Journey of Faith

I am hungry for God and want more than anything to know Him and walk with Him, but I find the journey toward Him to be excruciating. I believe that I am on the right path, but I am SO impatient for my own growth. I find it hard to enjoy the journey, and instead find myself frustrated with myself and with others along the way. I find the process to be roughly analogous to physical training. It is hard work and the good that it achieves may not be readily felt of ever fully known; and yet over time the change can be perceived, if not by the eye then in the experience of living in the improved body. I agree with Paul that physical training is of some value, and trust that he is right when he says that training in godliness is of great value for the present life as well as the one to come.

God is refining me and that requires humility. But, the way to humility is through humiliation. Perhaps not for everyone, but it certainly seems to be for me. Yet again I find myself smarting after an interaction. I find myself longing to be understood and valued for who I am. I know that the reason it feels so bad is because I have not reached the holy indifference to the opinion of man that is the mark of true humility. I am wondering if this is even possible short of heaven. And yet, I see progress. I can see some progress in my own life and as I talk with and read those who are farther along I believe that much more is attainable than I have yet laid hold of. So, I press on.

And yet, I’m tired. Tired of being judged. Tired of being misunderstood. Tired of trying to fit into some mold of what a man should be, a Christian should be, a leader should be. I long to be free to be completely who I am. I do not long to stop changing or growing, it is that I long to be free to grow along the path that is uniquely mine, rather than the paths that others would mark out for me. There are a few true companions who know me, who give me the freedom to be who I am, and love me enough to push me to be a better version of myself. These are precious gifts to me that sustain and encourage me on the journey. Perhaps God alone should be enough for me, but I am grateful for these boons, these treasures, these friends.

I recognize that I not only lack humility, but I also lack faith. I can be a little self-congratulatory about my ability to step out into the unknown, but true faith is trust, not tolerance for ambiguity. I am reminded about a story I once read about a knight who served a lord. One day, the lord asked him to extend his sword arm. As he did so his lord raised his sword and poised to strike the blow that would sever his hand from his arm and end his fighting career. The knight was faced with a crucial test of his trust in his superior. I feel like God has asked me to extend my hand. Do I trust Him enough to leave my hand extended, to draw near enough to Him to be within striking distance? Or, do I withdraw it because I don’t trust that it will be worth it. I know that there will be pain and loss, but do I trust that the purpose will be worth the pain. Do I trust my commander, my Lord, enough to be expendable, to be expended on the battlefield? We may dream of marching victoriously with the conqueror, but who dreams being counted among the dead and maimed on the battlefield? Do I trust Him enough to let Him wound me?

After all, He is not tame. There are those who would assure me that my vision of God is too grim, too bloody, but I wonder if they have not emasculated God in their desire to make Him more amiable. The God of the scriptures is fierce and bold. He slays His enemies, and sometimes His friends. He is not random nor capricious, but neither is He tame and domesticated. He never acts out of character, but he chastises those who would reduce Him to formulas and platitudes; Job’s friends and the Pharisees are the most obvious examples of this. So, do I trust this wild God? Do I trust Him enough to be crushed by Him? What if I am not Joseph, or David, who endured the trials and depredations for a time, and were later exalted? What if I am Jonathan, or the thousands of unnamed warriors who were faithful and obedient and died in the struggle? Can I trust Him then? I cry out with Peter, “Where else can I go Lord? Who else has the words of eternal life?” And with Job, “I know that my redeemer lives” and “though He slay me, yet I will trust in Him.”