Living in the tent has forced me to work through many questions that have arisen concerning God. Thankfully, a lot of the issues have been laid to rest and stored safely out of the way. But just when I think I’m beginning to get a handle on some of the mysteries of God I am confronted square in the face with another issue of which I cannot let go…
…If the gospel is truly the “good news” then it would potentially hold truth for each and every living being on the face of the earth at all times. No one would feel excluded or alienated from the good news at any time during any part of the story as it unfolds anywhere on earth. In other words, the Gospel must be true for everyone, at every moment, in every place, or it cannot be the real Gospel. There is imminent danger in adding elements to the truth of the Gospel that make it suddenly unattainable for certain groups of people.
Around this time of year people like to look back over the past year and recount what has come to pass for them. Quite often you will hear Christians equate the “blessings” of God with the wonderful things he either gave to them or allowed them to do throughout the year. But sadly, if we equate God’s blessing with the acquiring of things, or accomplishments we’ve achieved, then it stands to reason that people who have done neither are, by our definition, less blessed. Unfortunately, the sign of God’s blessing in our western church culture is the presence of comfort and success.
Is having a successful and prolific ministry, for instance, necessarily a sign of God’s blessing? Most would tend to say, yes, it is— but they would be wrong. The truth is, success of this kind may be due only to a person’s ability to execute Christian things really well. It’s a fine line, I know.
I think, ultimately, being blessed is the presence of God’s hand on your life—and the presence of his hand doesn’t always appear as a blessing. In fact, in the Word, it looks like quite the opposite. There are many on earth, blessed by God, living lives in direct opposition to our western church comfort culture. You can find some of these folks in Hebrews 11: 36-40—just in case you don’t believe me.
It has taken me many long nights of arguing with God in the tent to realize that true Christianity is not about a life of acquiring things. God is not a god of preferential treatment. He is not a genie. He is not a pathetic god, known only for his favoritism toward the American middle and upper classes. If he were, then he would be a shallow god.
God does not need us to equate his blessings with our cars, houses, ministries, or anything else that can be attained. The Word says that the blessing of God is evident in:
• His presence
• Consolation and peace
• Cultivating places of fruitfulness
• Righteousness
• Mercy
• Eyes that see him
• Identity and birthright
Now all this is good news to me.
12/31/10
12/29/10
Sorry, All Our Representatives Are Busy With Other Customers?
Some time ago I “girded up my loins” and I set out to cancel my cell phone service contract. Have you ever tried to walk out of a cell phone contract mid-stream? It is nearly impossible to get someone on the other end of the line that knows how, or that admits to being able, to accomplish your request. I tend to think that the system is purposefully designed to discourage you from following through with your plan to cancel.
I want to be very honest and admit to the numerous times when I have felt so frustrated with the Lord regarding this tent life that I entice myself with thoughts of quitting the contract and walking away from him altogether. Sometimes I think he’s a lot like that cell phone representative who knows more than what he’s letting on. God probably knows of a sure-fire way out of my circumstance, but right now he sure isn’t letting me in on it. At times it seems to make much more sense to quit following than it does to keep following ignorant and blind. But then, isn’t that the very definition of faith?
Keep in mind; I have never been a casual “sideline” Christian. You might say I have always been in the thick of it. I have been in a place of leadership for the past 38 years, and I know all the ins-and-outs of the whole shebang—pastoral staff positions included. I know what the Book says about life as a believer and I spent years teaching others about what the Book says. Yet, I still can find myself smack-dab-in-the-middle of fantasizing about an alternate life that does not entail the hardships of walking in faith. Believe me, I’ve thought it through thoroughly.
I lose track of what I want God to be sometimes. Do I want him to continue being in control and in charge, or do I want him to conveniently rescue me from my overwhelming trouble? If I choose the former, then I must be willing to forgo my well-formed perceptions of who he is. No matter what anyone tells you, or what you might see happening on any given Sunday morning at church, God cannot and will not be put into a box. If it were not so, then he would not be God.
Sometimes I find myself staring straight into the face of a dichotomy. This tent life certainly cannot be what was intended to happen—or was it? Maybe my many years of “obedience” to the Lord do not hold the weight that I once thought they did. And so, my circular reasoning has kept me stuck in whirlpool mode for the past six years. I often wonder how Joseph passed the time in Pharaoh’s dungeon. Did he nearly go mad? In the end his years of trying to reason it out came to nothing but an acceptance that God will do whatever he deems best, even if we vehemently disagree with all of it.
But the most often overlooked facet of a rant such as this is: Nothing is as incredible as God’s ability to handle our gripes and our threats to abandon ship. He is not as phased by my tirades as I think he is—but not because of insensitivity or disinterest. You see; he paid a steep price to get a hold of me. He’s certainly not going to forfeit just because I am really good at griping.
I think it is more difficult to forsake our faith than we could ever imagine. God holds on pretty tight to those he gave so much to get.
I want to be very honest and admit to the numerous times when I have felt so frustrated with the Lord regarding this tent life that I entice myself with thoughts of quitting the contract and walking away from him altogether. Sometimes I think he’s a lot like that cell phone representative who knows more than what he’s letting on. God probably knows of a sure-fire way out of my circumstance, but right now he sure isn’t letting me in on it. At times it seems to make much more sense to quit following than it does to keep following ignorant and blind. But then, isn’t that the very definition of faith?
Keep in mind; I have never been a casual “sideline” Christian. You might say I have always been in the thick of it. I have been in a place of leadership for the past 38 years, and I know all the ins-and-outs of the whole shebang—pastoral staff positions included. I know what the Book says about life as a believer and I spent years teaching others about what the Book says. Yet, I still can find myself smack-dab-in-the-middle of fantasizing about an alternate life that does not entail the hardships of walking in faith. Believe me, I’ve thought it through thoroughly.
I lose track of what I want God to be sometimes. Do I want him to continue being in control and in charge, or do I want him to conveniently rescue me from my overwhelming trouble? If I choose the former, then I must be willing to forgo my well-formed perceptions of who he is. No matter what anyone tells you, or what you might see happening on any given Sunday morning at church, God cannot and will not be put into a box. If it were not so, then he would not be God.
Sometimes I find myself staring straight into the face of a dichotomy. This tent life certainly cannot be what was intended to happen—or was it? Maybe my many years of “obedience” to the Lord do not hold the weight that I once thought they did. And so, my circular reasoning has kept me stuck in whirlpool mode for the past six years. I often wonder how Joseph passed the time in Pharaoh’s dungeon. Did he nearly go mad? In the end his years of trying to reason it out came to nothing but an acceptance that God will do whatever he deems best, even if we vehemently disagree with all of it.
But the most often overlooked facet of a rant such as this is: Nothing is as incredible as God’s ability to handle our gripes and our threats to abandon ship. He is not as phased by my tirades as I think he is—but not because of insensitivity or disinterest. You see; he paid a steep price to get a hold of me. He’s certainly not going to forfeit just because I am really good at griping.
I think it is more difficult to forsake our faith than we could ever imagine. God holds on pretty tight to those he gave so much to get.
12/4/10
Ducks Fly South When You Least Expect It
I used to think about the poor in drastically different ways than I do now. It is interesting how one’s viewpoint can change over time when a few details of life are slightly altered. Secretly, I used to think that the poor were less intelligent, less moral, and somehow less human than people who could sustain a level of success in life. And because the poor seemed to me less human, it allowed me to flippantly discard them onto the piles of rejects that lay just outside the doors of privilege—hoping that by morning someone will have swept the piles away.
I used to hear Christians say things like: “All you need to do is get your ducks in a row to become an effective, productive member of Christian society.”
But ducks don’t like to stay still, much less stand in straight line.
I’m now, literally, a card-carrying member of the poor. My eyes, thankfully, have been opened to the struggle that churns inside the hearts and minds of normal, everyday people who, for the time being, just happen to be poor. I have been able to experience the feelings associated with standing in lines, waiting for your number to be called, and deflecting hopelessness while holding on tight to what’s left of fleeting self-dignity. I know what it is like to have to draw a deep breath before each and every step I take throughout my day. I know the turmoil that rages inside of people who have to reconstruct self-respect on a daily basis.
My ducks have flown south a long time ago. But because my ducks are gone I can now look intently into the eyes of the poor without pretense and see that they are more human than I ever imagined. They are more human because humanness is the only thing some of them have left. The poor rely on their humanness to rise out of the whirlpools of discouragement levied at them by lofty duck ideals. And I have discovered a powerful and glorious humanness unmatched by anything that can be bought. It is the gold of the soul.
I challenge anyone to talk with someone who is poor, see the light deep in his or her eyes, and then walk away and not be affected by the experience. Just for a moment, put aside your ducks—ducks are overrated.
I used to hear Christians say things like: “All you need to do is get your ducks in a row to become an effective, productive member of Christian society.”
But ducks don’t like to stay still, much less stand in straight line.
I’m now, literally, a card-carrying member of the poor. My eyes, thankfully, have been opened to the struggle that churns inside the hearts and minds of normal, everyday people who, for the time being, just happen to be poor. I have been able to experience the feelings associated with standing in lines, waiting for your number to be called, and deflecting hopelessness while holding on tight to what’s left of fleeting self-dignity. I know what it is like to have to draw a deep breath before each and every step I take throughout my day. I know the turmoil that rages inside of people who have to reconstruct self-respect on a daily basis.
My ducks have flown south a long time ago. But because my ducks are gone I can now look intently into the eyes of the poor without pretense and see that they are more human than I ever imagined. They are more human because humanness is the only thing some of them have left. The poor rely on their humanness to rise out of the whirlpools of discouragement levied at them by lofty duck ideals. And I have discovered a powerful and glorious humanness unmatched by anything that can be bought. It is the gold of the soul.
I challenge anyone to talk with someone who is poor, see the light deep in his or her eyes, and then walk away and not be affected by the experience. Just for a moment, put aside your ducks—ducks are overrated.
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