Our Big God

Last week the worship pastor at the church we have been attending on Sunday mornings commented that the people who spread their cloaks on the road before Jesus as he entered Jersualem wanted something relatively small. All they wanted was for the yoke of Roman oppression to be thrown off. Jesus is God: removing a few soldiers from authority is no big deal. What the people lining the road with palm branches did not realize is that God had something bigger in mind. The people wanted something small, God offered something big. I have been thinking about that for the past week. I have thought about the ways in which I have wanted small things from God, and been blind to what He is offering me.

What I have wanted from God is pretty conventional. I want God to heal the arthritis in my fingers so they don’t throb when I type on the computer. I want God to bring, well, Godly men into the lives of my daughters. I want God to tell me what He wants me to be when I grow up. I want to know how to overcome to lashing tail of the old man in me who continues to harass me, though his head has been cut off. I want God to restore ones I love who have been hurt by church people and dead religion. I want, I want, I want. I spend so much time asking God to enter my agenda, meet my wants, handle all the small things in my life. It blinds me to who He is really is and what He really has for me.

There was a time when I was surrounded by women who were dying of cancer. There were several of them, one after another, who went through the terrible scenario of diagnosis, chemo, radiation, decline … and death. All of us who lived through that horrendous season were affected by it. When there finally came a woman who emerged from her fight with cancer and lived we all rejoiced, not only for her but for the light that we saw at the end of dark tunnel we had been traveling through. Each of the women who died taught me lessons about life that I have never forgotten. There was one in particular who, in addition to lecturing me on the need to floss after brushing, pointed to the bigness of God. I was sitting next to her in her hospital room as she was enduring the pain of another futile chemo treatment. She wanted to say something to me so I leaned over. She had a look of utter fierceness on her face and in voice I will never forget she said “I will not let this come between me and my God.” I was thinking about her cancer, she pointed past it. For her, surviving cancer was small compared to the bigness of her God.

There was another hospital room I was in with another woman who was dying of cancer. It was the day after Christmas, and it was pretty clear that her earthly existence was drawing to a close. Her husband was also in the room with her, sitting by her bedside holding her hand. It was one of those times when I was feeling the futility of my training as a pastor. There was absolutely nothing I could say or do. I tried to console myself that at least being present counted for something and brought some small measure of comfort. I do not have the words to adequately describe what happened in that room. All I can say is that suddenly the room was filled with the palpable tangible Presence of God. Filled is not the word to describe it: I was literally flattened against the wall and could not move, not even to remove the shoes that had no business being on my feet at that moment. The Presence of God was entirely focused upon the man and his wife. In every fiber of my being I could feel how deeply God loved this couple, how much they mattered to Him. I felt like such an intruder upon a moment that was so very intimate, except that I could not move. Instead I realized that God had given me an incredible gift by permitting me to see the depth of His love for these two persons. It was a love did not see the cancer; that did not see the hope for a miracle that we had prayed so earnestly for. In that moment I knew that God’s love transcended all of this: it is too big for anything we can imagine or comprehend.

A couple of years ago I was sitting through a Bible study in church when I had my own experience of the bigness of God. Again, it is hard to describe. I was thinking about eternity and what it would be like when I died. I sat there trying to imagine what it would be like to no longer be surrounded by the familiar world, familiar people and all the structure of life that permits me to travel through the events of each day without thinking beyond the moment. All I can say is that somehow, for a moment, I slipped out of the world of the familiar: everything receded away from me and I found myself completely alone in some kind of a void where there was absolutely nothing but me. I was overcome with fear: not a polite uneasy kind of fear, but complete terror. Heart-pounding, sweat pouring out me naked fear. It was choking me. It seemed to last for an eternity, although I suppose it was only for a moment. Suddenly, I was aware of the Presence of God with me. My fear evaporated. I knew that one day everything familiar would indeed be gone, but God would be there with me. I lost my fear of death that evening. When I traveled to Africa as a Peace Corps volunteer I experienced the wonder that God came with me and did not remain in New York. Now I know beyond knowing that God will be with me when the music fades and everything is stripped away.

In his prophecies about the coming Messiah, Isaiah recorded: “It is too small a thing for you to be my servant to restore the tribes of Jacob and bring back those of Israel I have kept. I will also make you a light for the Gentiles, that you may bring my salvation to the ends of earth” (Isaiah 49:6 NIV). No matter how earnest we are about desiring the Presence of God in our lives, it is really hard to not make it about having God’s Presence bless our lives and right the wrongs in our existence, instead of responding to His Presence by following Him to what He has been preparing for us.

Easter is all about the empty tomb and the resurrection of Jesus Christ, and it should be. Easter is also about how much bigger God is than my hopes and dreams, my agendas, my prayer requests, my opinions about how life should be. God does indeed perform miracles, answer prayers, grant dreams. Beyond all this, God has something bigger in mind for us: something so incredible that it required His death on a cross to make sure that we will be there and be part of it. Even after thirty-two years of following Jesus, I cannot guess the extent of what it is … and will be. I only know I want to be there. How about you?

A Word About Tongues

On January 1, 1901 in a decrepit mansion known as Stone’s folly located at 18^th and Stone streets in Topeka, Kansas, a student at Charles Parham’s Bethel Bible college named Agnes Ozment began to speak in tongues: the first recorded occurrence of modern times. Others, including Parham himself, were thus gifted shortly thereafter. Parham was intensely interested in both the Holy Spirit and in missions. He reckoned that it would save time and effort for prospective missionaries to simply receive from the Holy Spirit the ability to speak the language of whatever country they were sent to. One has to admire the sheer faith of such an attitude. Parham gathered about him a group of students who earnestly sought after the Holy Spirit and this gift of tongues. Agnes felt a calling to serve in China. Although none of those present could tell for certain, the report has come down it was Chinese that Agnes spoke on that New Year’s Day. While the movement did not catch fire in Topeka, it did catch the attention of William Seymour: another seeker after the Holy Spirit. Seymour was greatly influenced by Parham’s teaching on tongues. Parting ways with the Holiness movement, Seymour ended up at an abandoned Methodist church in Los Angeles, located on Azusa Street, and the modern Pentecostal movement was born.

In the years since Bethel and Azusa Street, the practice of speaking in tongues has generated a great deal of conversation and some strong opinions. Both of the extreme camps seem to be contemptuous of their opposites. Both have marshaled their own arguments and Bible verses to back up their views. There is a third group that flounders to find some kind of middle ground but, in my opinion, they come off as hopelessly lame (more on that later). My own point of view differs from the extremes and the middle (you can decide if it is lame). And yes, I have my own arguments and Bible verses.

A key passage is 1 Corinthians 12:7-11 (quoting from the NIV):

“Now to each one the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good. To one there is given through the Spirit a message of wisdom, to another a message of knowledge by means of the same Spirit, to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by that one Spirit, to another miraculous powers, to another prophecy, to another distinguishing between spirits, to another speaking in different kinds of tongues, and to still another the interpretation of tongues. All these are the work of one and the same Spirit, and he distributes them to each one, just as he determines.”

If we can ditch whatever programming we have received on the subject, let’s look at the clear teaching of Scripture. First, speaking in tongues is a spiritual gift. Not “the” spiritual gift, “a” spiritual gift. It is on the list, but it is not the only one on the list. Right away, we can dismiss the dispensationalists and others who use theology to disavow parts of Christian faith that makes them uncomfortable. It’s a gift – deal with it. On the other hand, we can also dismiss the claims of mainstream Pentecostalism who states that not only is speaking in tongues an evidence of the Holy Spirit, it is the only evidence. You don’t have to speak in tongues to have the Holy Spirit at work in your life – deal with it. We cannot pick and choose which parts of the Bible we read and which parts we ignore. It’s all or nothing when it comes to the Bible.

Next point is that scripture teaches that spiritual gifts are given for the common good. They are not given to be an assurance of salvation or club membership for your private benefit. They are given because God desires to use spiritual gifts to fulfill His purposes, not ours. This applies to the gift of tongues as well as other spiritual gifts. I think Charles Parham was onto something in desiring the gift of tongues to further missions. This view certainly fits with the account of the first Christian Pentecost:

“Now there were staying in Jerusalem God-fearing Jews from every nation under heaven.  When they heard this sound, a crowd came together in bewilderment, because each one heard their own language being spoken. Utterly amazed, they asked: “Aren’t all these who are speaking Galileans?  Then how is it that each of us hears them in our native language?  Parthians, Medes and Elamites; residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya near Cyrene; visitors from Rome (both Jews and converts to Judaism); Cretans and Arabs—we hear them declaring the wonders of God in our own tongues!” (Acts 2:5-11 NIV)

I have a more recent account of the same phenomenon. A pastor of my acquaintance has been active in missions to India. He reported once on a meeting he attended where a gentleman stood up and gave in English a rather powerful evangelistic exhortation. The pastor later found out that the man did not know a word of English – he had been speaking in tongues.

Next point is that scripture teaches that the Holy Spirit is in charge of deciding how the spiritual gifts are passed out. They are distributed “just as He determines.” I would assume that the Holy Spirit distributes His gifts “for the common good.” I have been twice prayed for by pastors who guaranteed that anyone can speak in tongues for the asking. While there are occasions when I believe I have spoken a few words in tongues, it has never been the effortless flow that I have heard from others. I am ok with that. I will also be ok if the words flow at will. The Bible teaches that these decisions are up to God. For the record, my own baptism in the Holy Spirit was kind of an “anti-tongues” experience. Like Zechariah, I actually all but lost the power of speech for several hours. I’m fine with God being God. God’s wisdom is greater than my theology. I have a problem with those who insist on the gift of tongues as a requirement, as if God can’t bless people who fail to meet human requirements. But I digress …

“If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.” (1 Corinthians 13:1 NIV)

Anyone who has encountered the gift of tongues will quickly hear that not all tongues-speaking sounds like a recognizable language. I have heard some speculate that the tongue is ancient Babylonian or some other language no longer being spoken in the modern world. Others postulate that the language may be one known only to God and the angels. Since I am willing to let God be God I cannot exclude such possibilities. I stand by the wise dictum of John Wesley that if something is of God, it will bear fruit for God. However, if one reads 1 Corinthians 12-14 without all the theological baggage it is pretty easy to see that the Corinthian church had a problem with some members lording their gifts – including – tongues – over others. Paul used these three chapters to lay down some sound teaching about the correct use of spiritual gifts for the Corinthian church and for the church today.  With regard to the gift of tongues in a public setting Paul points to the gift of interpretation:

“If anyone speaks in a tongue, two—or at the most three—should speak, one at a time, and someone must interpret.  If there is no interpreter, the speaker should keep quiet in the church and speak to himself and to God.” (1 Corinthians 14:27-28 NIV)

In a public setting speaking in tongues without an interpretation calls attention to the speaker, not to God. On the other hand, when someone speaks in a tongue and someone else pops up and gives the interpretation the church is built up. It is also way too cool! Why would a people serious about God not welcome an opportunity to hear audibly from God?

 “Therefore, my brothers and sisters, be eager to prophesy, and do not forbid speaking in tongues. But everything should be done in a fitting and orderly way.” (1 Corinthians 14:39-40 NIV)

Just as there are those on a certain television network who rail against the “lame-stream” media, there are those of us who are tired of the “lame-stream” church. Here’s how it works out when it comes to speaking in tongues. I have twice heard pastors in the pulpit proclaim that they believe in the gift of tongues, but that “we don’t teach that gift here.” Why ever not? Is someone afraid of a ruckus at the next ladies’ society meeting? Has someone threatened to withhold their pledge from the church if we allow such things to come in? Afraid that it might disturb the comfortable snoozing of the faithful in the pews? Hypocrites!! Do you believe in God or do you not? Do you answer to men or to God? How dare you pretend to be a church of God if you worry more about men than pleasing God! If you deny one single part of who God is or how He has revealed himself, you have denied God completely. We do not have a cafeteria God who gives you the ability to pick and choose what parts you want to have. I have more respect for an honest cessationist than I do for someone who recognizes something is of God, but rejects it. Put the hypocrisy aside, lest you drag the innocent into your private hell with you.

When the topic of speaking in tongues comes up, other questions pop up. What about prayer languages? What about the Spirit interceding with groans, etc.? Is there a distinction between psalms, hymns and spiritual songs? I think that these and other related questions are side trips that can wait for another day. Today’s point is that speaking in tongues is a spiritual gift, it is real, it exists today, and we must accept it in the life of the church if we are to accept the Presence of God at all.

There is a Pentecostal group in Topeka that has lobbied to erect a plaque at the site where Agnes Ozment first spoke in tongues. Rather than a memorial to what God has done in the past, how about an outbreak of what God is doing today!

In Memory of Joan

Joan had a rough life. She was uneducated and had few marketable skills. Her husband was disabled, with numerous health issues. They lived in total squalor in a home with few amenities. She supplemented what few government dollars came their way by cleaning motel rooms. There was never enough money in the house, but somehow they managed. There was no money for Joan’s health care. This became evident one day when Joan woke up not feeling well at all. Normally, she would suck it up and get on with the day, but on this day she made her way to the emergency room at the local hospital. They were not pleased to see her. She had no insurance. They looked at her because the law required that they did. They determined that she was bleeding internally. Joan was hurting. Normally stoic, she was screaming out in pain. The ER staff determined that addressing the internal bleeding was an elective procedure not covered under the law mandating indigent medical care. They released her from the emergency room.

The next stop for Joan was the ER at an urban hospital an hour away where her husband had been treated numerous times for his health issues. There was also an unpaid bill at this hospital. Armed with knowledge that Joan’s treatment was elective, the ER refused to treat her …. unless payment was made on the bill. I am sure I broke all kinds of rules, for which I was mercifully forgiven, but using my pastoral powers I raided the church emergency fund and raced to the hospital with a sum of money to put towards the bill. In my mind it was bribery. The hospital cheerfully accepted the money from me, wrote out a receipt, and consented to treat Joan. Sadly, the passage of time while this drama unfolded worked against Joan. The blood loss had reached a critical level … and she died.

Someone else I know woke up one morning in terrible pain. The doctor took one look at her and hustled her to the ER at the local hospital. They checked her insurance card and examined her. They determined that she was bleeding internally. The hospital staff went into full treatment mode with tests and procedures, culminating in emergency surgery. They saved her life that day. When the doctor spoke to me later he said we had gotten her to the hospital in the nick of time. If we had delayed at all, she might not have survived the day. I am grateful beyond words that the joy of my life lived through that day. I wonder if Joan would have survived her day if she had received the same level of care.

There has been a continuing debate about health care in our nation. Lots of posturing on every side. I cannot pretend to say that I know what the answer is. I do think that the answer needs to include  health care for Joan and those like her. Health care must be based on need, not on the ability to pay. Otherwise, we are no better than Ebenezer Scrooge: who stated it was better for the indigent to die and decrease the surplus population. Signs of Scrooge’s plutocratic Darwinism abound in the health care industry. I, for one, think we can do better than that.

Are You Ready?

A few years ago, on a prison ministry weekend, I met a man who named himself “Ice.” “Ice” was his name and that is exactly how he looked. Cold. Hard. Impenetrable. Except that on this weekend he began to thaw. It came out that he was the grandson and son of Mafia hitmen and that he had been physically abused as a child. His strength was in his persona, and as the façade began to weaken he fought to maintain his identity until his strength had completely left him. Ultimately, we all found ourselves huddled in a circle around this collapsed broken man. Since I was the pastor on the team everyone looked to me. I knew what to do, at least how to start. “Ice” confessed his sin and received Jesus as his Savior. What followed next was not me, but God. God asked the man what name he had been given. He blurted out “K—–.” God said to him, “Your name is no longer “Ice,” it is “K—–.” He staggered to his feet a new man, and he was. Revelation tells us that he who overcomes will be given a new name. I watched it happen in front of my eyes.

Once I was speaking with a man whose marriage was on the brink of divorce. He asked for prayer to restore his relationship with his wife. His wife was not present, so I called over another woman, a pastor, who was nearby and asked if she was willing to stand in for the absent wife. Proxy prayer is not something I have done very often, but my inner prompting was to do so in this case. There is something about proxy prayer, maybe the symbolism, that can release the power of God. It worked. God restored the marriage. In the years that I followed I observed a very loving relationship between the man and his wife. 

On another occasion, I was counseling with a man who was having enormous struggles with his faith. As the story unfolded, I learned that he had been badly abused by his father, and that even as an adult his relationship with his father was still bad. He struggled with unforgiveness. Understandable, but a stumbling block to his faith in God. I said to him that he needed to forgive his father to have a relationship with God. I also said he needed to say so out loud. He was so desperate for God that he took the chance. He hollered out at the top of his lungs his forgiveness of his earthly father. And His Heavenly Father heard him and wrapped him in the loving embrace this man had always longed for. He emitted the most awful wailing cry I have ever heard. I’m not sure if it was the grief of his hurt that had been released, demons leaving him, or both. I suspect both. Before my eyes I watched Jesus take this man on His knee and love the child who came to Him. Like all children who come to Jesus, this man received the kingdom of heaven.

Many years ago I was asked to attend a family wedding. The entire family was going to be at this wedding, so I was expected to be there. My absence would be conspicuous. I did not want to go. The invitation came to me on the heels of receiving final divorce papers from a woman who had cheated on me and left. The prospective groom had been badly treated as well. I could not for the life of me understand how he could ever trust any woman again to enter into his life. As the dutiful child I traveled to the town where the wedding would be held. I drove my own car, rented my own hotel room, and was generally distant from the rest of my family. The morning of the wedding, alone in my room, I was crying out to God for help. I do not normally open the Bible at random, but I did. I turned out not to be random. God opened the Bible to the Song of Solomon 2:10-11: “…Arise my darling, my beautiful one, and come with me. See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone” (NIV). God spoke to me and said that for the groom, winter was over, that it was springtime for him. And then God said to me that my winter was over and spring would be coming soon. I was able to go to the wedding and genuinely rejoice with all present. (Good thing too – the bride turned out to be an incredible blessing to the family – If the groom fails to treat her right, he needs to answer to me!). Barely three months after the wedding, I met the joy of my life – a story that is still being told.

At the church we attend on Sunday mornings a death was recently announced. The pastor stated that the deceased had “gone to be with the Lord.” I’m sure I have used similar language over the years, but when the pastor said the words I was struck by them. To say that we go to be with the Lord when we die in some way implies that we have not been with Him before. Moreover, if we have not been with Him before we die we have disqualified ourselves from being with Him after we die. God is here now and we need to live this truth out in our lives!

Here is some truth: Salvation is not fire insurance. I believe it is scriptural and possible to lose your salvation if you treat it with contempt. Saying the sinner’s prayer is meaningless if your life in no way reflects a commitment to Christ. To quote an old adage, if you are on trial for being a Christian will there be enough evidence to convict you? There is this religious piety that packages good deeds and nice thoughts as Christian living. Excuse the language, but cut the crap! Lots of nice people are on the way to hell because being nice isn’t enough. Only Jesus is.

Another truth: Now is the time. For a long time I carried a disc on my pocket with the letters “TUIT” on one side. It meant, “I will put God first in my life when I get a round TUIT.” Where have we gotten this notion that coming to terms with Jesus in our lives is something that can be postponed? I am really tired of hearing that surrender to Jesus means “giving up my life.” Excuse the language, but cut the crap! What exactly is there in your life that is so hard to give up? You  like meaningless relationships? You like going out drinking? You like having dreams but doing nothing about them? What are you doing, killing time until you die? It’s time to start living, and life begins with Jesus.

 One more truth: You can’t be a lone wolf. Christians are called to live in community with one another. We are to bear one another’s burdens, rejoice with one another, encourage each other, spur others on to greater commitments to our faith. Sometimes God’s people get it wrong. I know full well what it is like to be badly treated by fellow Christians. Hypocrisy, selfishness, pig-headedness, personal power agendas, and all manner of human flaws show up in church under the pasted-on Sunday smiles. When church-goers reveal themselves to be anything less than our mental picture of what they should be we run from them. Excuse the language, but cut the crap! Where did we get the notion that Christians are perfect? Are you perfect? Do you want others to put up with you? Yes, church members will fail us again and again, but God never has. “My help comes from the Lord the maker of heaven and earth…” And He wants us to hang in there with His people. Jesus started with twelve, but He’s still recruiting.

It may be that the greatest obstacle to achieving all that the Bible promises us is our failure to take Jesus seriously: here and now. Are you ready to put the excuses aside?

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is about turkeys and families, football and WII with the cousins, remembering those who are not with us this year, finding new reasons to express gratitude for the abundance that we have in our lives. It is spending days preparing a meal that only takes a few minutes to eat. It is the familiarity and reassurance that comes with the traditions and rituals of the day. It is second only to the fourth of July as the quintessential expression of what it means to be an American.

My thoughts this year have been straying to the first Thanksgiving: not the one celebrated by Pilgrims, but an earlier one. Thousands of years ago, a captive people in a foreign land on the cusp of being liberated from bondage celebrated a meal together to give thanks for being “passed over” by the avenging hand of God. The first thanksgiving was eaten in haste, but in subsequent years it became a ritual celebrated with full pomp and ceremony: filled with remembering and gratitude.

I have also been thinking about a particular thanksgiving celebration a couple of thousand years ago. The ritual and traditions were all there, but they took on a new twist as the host personalized them in a way that was audacious and provocative. The remembrance of what God had done in the distant past was transformed into an invitation to receive what God was doing, and about to do, in their very midst. That Thursday thanksgiving dinner was followed the next day by the ultimate expression of God’s unwillingness to give up on the people He had created in His image.

The problem with remembrance is that is it blurred by the passage of time. We remember the hardships experienced by the settlers in the Massachusetts Bay colony, but have forgotten why they made the trip to the New World. We remember the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross, but have buried it under a religious edifice of feel-good sermons and a la carte worship. Shared identity as a chosen people and a life lived for the sake of others have been replaced by autonomy and the pursuit of self-expression. Good Friday has become Black Friday. I wonder how anyone can feel we have benefitted from the exchange?

What, if anything, is to be done? I have been pondering words from a song written by Jared Anderson that I really like:      

“God gave everything to us,
  So everything we have is not really ours but His.
  Let’s take this moment of our day,
  Turn it into praise, and offer it as a gift
            To our King,
                        To our Lord:
  For He reigns forevermore!”

I personally don’t think this is such a bad place to start. We are so worried about what we think God wants us to give up that we lose sight of what He offers us. I like the American thanksgiving holiday, but my real basis for being thankful is in the Source, not the traditions and rituals.

Thirsty

“O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you, in a dry and weary land where there is no water” (Psalm 63:1 NIV)

Sandy and I recently caught up with someone we used to go to church with. She has the challenging job of finding homes for children who have no homes. The biggest challenge of the job may be maintaining the integrity of her Christian beliefs in the face of a political environment and governmental policies pressuring her to carry out her job in a way that is not at all compatible with those beliefs. So far, she seems to be managing. I admire her: for the drive that motivates what she does on behalf of children, and her ability to stay strong in her faith.

While visiting with this woman, we somehow ended up on the topic of how  many years ago she and her husband had found the church they attend, how they were welcomed in, and how they have been active in the church ever since. I envy her ability to become so integrated with a local church body that it has in many ways become her anchor and her life. There is a stability in this that is appealing to me. It not something I have been able to achieve or sustain. 

I would love to be totally “sold out” in a local church body and throw myself into its work with all that I am. There have been a couple of periods of time in which I thought this was going to happen, but in both instances God Himself pulled me out of the place. And so I find myself a restless wanderer traveling to and fro looking for lodging. There is no shortage of inns with available rooms, but in most instances I find myself giving a friendly wave and moving on. It’s not that I dominated by feelings of superiority – far from it – I sometimes struggle to understand what worth I might actually have. It’s not that I have succumbed to a gourmet mentality that dictates I can only settle for something prepared a certain way. It’s not that I have to do it my way or not it all – I’m not entirely sure what my way is. The reality of my situation is that I am thirsty, and I feel as if I am in the midst of a dry and weary land where there is no water. I am not willing to settle for hamster gods (see the previous post) and I am frustrated by the boundaries that so many others seem to put on God without being aware that they have done so. Like the thirst that overcomes one who is lost in a physical desert, there are times it seems as if this thirst will drive me mad.

“I have seen you in the sanctuary and beheld your power and your glory. Because your love is better than life, my lips will glorify you. I will praise you as long as I live, and in your name I will lift up my hands” (Psalm 63:2-4 NIV).

It would have been so much easier if I had never beheld the power and the glory of God. Easier, but not better. Once the Presence and Power of God is truly experienced life can never be the same again. Either one is compelled to start running like Jonah, which I did for many years; or one becomes an addict crazed with the longing to experience Him again. Once you do taste and see how good the Lord is you cannot be satisfied with anything less. The battle between the God addict and the old man sinner rages on within me. Sin sometimes wins, but the consequence is a rising sense of frustration and rage. Sin reminds me that I am not at the moment where I want to be and I cry out for another “fix.”

David, good Hebrew that he was, understood the connection between soul and body: “my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you.” Lifting up my hands in a place of worship is my body expressing the condition of my soul. I remember one of the teachers on my journey speaking once about the lifting of hands in worship. Lifting up your hands can be a way of permitting your cares to fall off your shoulders. It can also be a way of expressing surrender to God. For me, I reach up as high as I can with that hope that God will take hold of me and pull me to Himself.

 This body-soul connection is one reason I find worship so frustrating in so many places. The church I attended this morning had a good worship team, a good choice of songs with very meaningful lyrics, but in a room filled with hundreds of people I could barely hear anyone singing who was not tethered to a microphone. We would be better off skipping the singing altogether, rather than betray the total lack of interest in making a connection with God. There are certainly other ways to connect with God besides singing, and volume does not imply faith, but how many of those who were silent this morning are yelling out loud at the Chiefs this afternoon? I can be a missionary in such a church, but I also need a place to yell for God.

In the aftermath of the incredible triumph on Mount Carmel over the prophets of Baal, Elijah was depressed and fearful: convinced that he was the only one left who honored God. On the surface, it seems incredible that he should feel alone in the midst of people confessing their allegiance to God. Elijah knew his history: those swearing faith in God today were likely to turn back to Baal tomorrow. It happened all too frequently. 

I am not fearful or depressed, but I do understand what it is like to feel alone in the midst of people who claim a relationship with God. I take comfort in God’s words to Elijah: “Yet I reserve seven thousand in Israel – all whose knees have not bowed down to Baal and all whose mouths have not kissed him” (1 Kings 19:18 NIV). We are not alone, even if it sometimes feels that way. There are others all around us with the same dissatisfactions with the religious status quo and the same longings for God. I also am convinced that this longing was planted in us by God Himself; and, this being the case, the day is coming when what God has planted will bloom into glorious flower. God has not given you and I a longing for Him except that He will satisfy it.

“Because you are my help, I sing in the shadow of your wings. My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me” (Psalm 63:7-8 NIV).

 I still believe that our faith is best lived out in the company of others; and I will continue to press God to show me where He wants me to be. Even more, however, I will continue to press into God to let me be where He is.

God and Hamsters

A couple of weeks ago, our family all went together to the Homecoming football game at the college where Sandy and I are employed. As seems to be inevitable on such occasions, we found ourselves seated in close proximity to a gentleman who either enjoyed the pre-game tailgating a bit too much, or is blessed with a generally uninhibited personality. His loud comments and somewhat colorful phrases, some of which I really did not care to have my young daughters listen to, punctuated the festivities. One comment that he made caught my attention in a more thoughtful way. Deciding that the fans were not sufficiently supportive of the home team he hollered at all of us to stand up and yell bellowing: “Tomorrow, you can sit down in church!” I don’t know if that is what he did the next day, but he was undoubtedly correct about many sitting nearby. We stand up and yell at football games. We sit down in church. We visited a church the next day with hundreds of people in the service, but when they sang, you could barely hear the words. I bet some of those folks were hoarse from yelling at the stadium the previous day. So, what is the problem anyways?

 The reason that people are quiet and timid in church is that they are worshipping a hamster. We have created a hamster god. We have built little tunnels for him to run through. We have installed a little wheel he can run on to get exercise. We have built a nice clean cage, changing the bedding regularly and doling out fresh water. We have created our own god and have got him exactly where we want him: a pet that we can admire, fuss over, show off to others; but who will never interfere with the choices we make in life. This hamster god is a personification of our human arrogance. Hamsters are cute (I think), but a hamster god is not someone you are going to stand up and start yelling the praises of. Sandy and I have tried praising God in a church with a hamster god. Everyone looks at you like you are crazy. Well, we are crazy to try to praise God when everyone around us is admiring a hamster.

The biggest problem with having a hamster god is that it keeps us from seeing the real God. God heals incurable diseases and restores life. God gives children to barren women. God restores broken marriages and gives jobs to the unemployed. God encourages those who have given up hope. God has a purpose for those who have no reason to live. God is the Source of life, of love, of all the good things that our cynical hearts have written off as impossible. When you worship a hamster you cannot see the real God; and you cannot truly believe that what He offers is real. And you are certainly not going to stand up and yell.

There, you have it in a nutshell. People yell at football games and sit quietly in church because they have a hamster god. Football is real. Church is staring at a hamster cage, trying not to notice the odor escaping the cedar shavings. It doesn’t have to be this way. You can trade in the hamster for the real God, but it’s one or the other: you can’t have both. Here’s a tip that may help: hamsters are not very durable pets. We had a string of hamsters when I was growing up. When one died, which they did, we’d go to the pet store and get another one. I met the real God in 1979, and I’ve never had to trade Him in! Are you really so satisfied with your life that you are willing to settle for a hamster instead of God? What would it be like if you had a God you could get as excited about as people at a football game? Sounds to me like it’s time to say goodbye to the hamster…

“Let everything that has breath praise the LORD. Hallelujah!” (Psalm 150:6 NIV)

Living Now

Over the years I’ve been to a lot of churches, even pastored a few. If I were to describe the “personalities” of these churches I would be inclined to put them on a continuum between two extremes.

On the one end of the continuum are the churches focused on saving souls. Everything is about finding the lost and getting them saved. Sometimes they are superfriendly with lattes and pastors called “John.” Sometimes they are superstrict with such a rigid set of rules that not even Jesus could be saved. What they share in common is a sense of helplessness once the target has muttered the Sinner’s Prayer. They are so focused on racking up the score that they have no clue what comes next. In their view all of the benefits of salvation reside in the sweet by and by. If that is the case, let’s look up the Jim Jones Koolaid recipe and mix up a batch. Who wants to live if all the good stuff is postponed until we die?

 On the other end of the continuum are the “Kum Bah Yah” churches. God loves us so we are supposed to love one another. Sometimes they talk about the many paths to God and plan services with shaman rain sticks and Muslim speakers. Sometimes they focus on food pantries and cleaning up parks in the community to show that they care. What they share in common is an insistence upon not being controversial. At all costs nothing must ever be said that might be interpreted as divisive or that might make someone uncomfortable. They are so focused on not being threatening that they have surrendered any real sense of raison d’etre. If the purpose of the church is to be nice to people and do good deeds, why not form a good deeds club without the superstitious religious overtones?

I think that the reason so many churches get trapped somewhere on this continuum is a fundamental misunderstanding of life. For the soul-saving and the Kum Bah Yah churches alike physical death ends one life and begins another. Therefore we need to devote our time before we die to saving as many souls as we can or building as good a world as we can so that we can get into the next one. The truth is quite different. We are created in the image of God, we are eternal creations from the start. Salvation is not about eternal life, it is about eternal address. Salvation, surrendering who we are to Jesus and placing our trust in Him, is the ending of one life and the beginning of another. For me, one life ended on April 17, 1979 and another began that same day. The fact that my physical body will cease to exist one day is irrelevant. I died and was raised to a new life. If you have surrendered your life to Christ the same is true for you.

 This being case, we can ditch both the lattes and the rain sticks. We can live! Jesus is not about fire insurance, He is about life … and that to the full! I am so tired of churches that do not celebrate the life we are already living and fail to teach us how to live these lives to the glory of God. Naturally, I want everyone to have a saving relationship with Jesus. Sure, I want to be nice to other people and build relationships with them. What I really want is to be so completely indwelt by the power and Presence of God that this future life that others are waiting for is mine right now! That is the promise of God to we who believe … and are ready to receive.

 “And He died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for Him who died for them and was raised again” (2 Corinthians 5:15 NIV).

Live!

What would happen if you woke up tomorrow morning . . . and lived?

We have built our lives around the reality that like taxes, death is an inevitability. The certainty of death is the driving force behind the way we behave. We dye our hair to hide aging and get tans to mask the deathly pallor of our skin. We have mid-life crises and compile a “bucket list” to make sure we don’t miss out on anything before we die. We seek to build a legacy at our place of work, to leave a mark that will remain after we are gone. We get involved in community activities and perform deeds of service so we will be remembered. I presently work at a university, and have worked at a lot of churches, that are memory books compiled by people who wanted to be certain they were not forgotten after they died. We comfort ourselves that we will live on through our children and grandchildren. Behind everything we say and do, death lurks.

Given that death is such a driving force in our daily existence, it is perhaps no surprise that the church has picked up on the theme and has run with it. The local church is all about getting us ready to die. First and foremost, we need our fire insurance policy. We mumble the magic words and get our golden ticket to the great Hereafter. Unfortunately, once we are “saved,” there doesn’t seem to be much left to do. Our leaders spur us on to gain more recruits. We busy ourselves with good deeds. Even so, we find ourselves with extra time on our hands. Out of boredom, or perhaps because we have become so soft and lazy, we find ourselves decorating the casket with building plans, programs, support groups, etc. to while away the hours as we wait to die.

Sandy and I looked at each other last summer and realized we had fallen into the trap. We got up in the morning, went to work, came home, spent some time with the children, watched television until we fell asleep: only to get up the next morning and start all over gain. Kind of like that old Bill Cosby routine about summer vacation. We discovered that we were killing time until we died. Church had become the same thing for us. We were surrounded by great people, but like us, they were just whiling away the hours. As God opened our eyes to our condition, we came to a simple conclusion: we don’t want to die until we first live!

Deciding to live has been …. well …. life-changing. Since I am no longer postponing life with God until I die, I am discovering that He has been here all along, just waiting for me to notice. Each day is a revelation of the glory and majesty of who God is. Instead of making friends with the funeral director, I now spend the day pursuing the living God: striving to draw closer to Him as He reaches out for me. God seems to be so excited that I am noticing Him. He has taken special pains of late to let me know that He is here, and that He has been waiting for me. I have a rising impatience to receive all that He has been keeping for me, and I am eager to use what I have been given to be His man in the world around me.

I would like to say that the church was instrumental in bringing this change about. Actually, most of the churches I have been associated with have been stumbling blocks. We live in a religious culture that postpones any real relationship with God until we die. As a result, church consists of mutual comforting and encouraging to hang on until we get our reward. I AM SICK OF HANGING ON! How about you? Sandy and I have been blessed (with the help of God and Google) to find a place populated with believers aggressively committed to life: a life focused on the Presence and Power of God. There is no turning back. I was marveling last night at how blessed we are to have found a church where God is alive. Many are not as fortunate to have such a place nearby. Do not give up, there are outposts all around us. We just need to shake off the culture of death that we have been told is our only option, and go find life. It begins with a decision to live. The angels said to the women at the tomb “Why do you look for the living among the dead?” (Luke 24:5b NIV). If you want to live, you need to look for the living.

If you wake up alive tomorrow morning, you have a choice. You can climb back into the casket, or you can reach out for the hand of God that He has extended to you, and let Him pull you up out of the grave into a life that is worth living. If you want to see an example of a people of God who know how to live, you have a standing invitation to join Sandy and I in Kansas City.

Children of God

“Yet to all who received Him, to those who believed in His name, He gave the right to become children of God” (John 1:12 NIV).

If God ever calls me back to an active preaching ministry, and one never knows, this is a good candidate to be featured in my first sermon. It is a familiar scripture, a powerful testimony of the life that God offers us in Jesus Christ. Like so many other familiar passages in the Bible, however, this one has been misinterpreted by many – with devastating consequences. It is time for preachers of the Word to stand up and tell what this passage really says, for the sake of those who might otherwise be lost. Ready?

The passage states that we have the ability to become children of God. Do you see what this is really saying? You and I were not born children of God, we have the ability to become children of God. This is not a message that you are going to hear in the ooey gooey “God loves everyone and just wants His children to come home” local church. Until we become children of God we have no home to come home to. Sure, God loves us. So what? Being loved does not excuse us in any manner. The old adage goes that every convict on death row has a mother who loves him. So? He’s still going to die. We are on death row until we become children of God; and unless we do, we are still going to die: even though God loves us. So let’s put aside the “God loves us” stuff and cut to the chase.

If you are in a local church that states that every person born on the earth is a child of God, you are being subjected to false teaching. The consequence of this false teaching is a false sense of security. If I believe I am born a child of God, then I am inclined to believe, as reinforced by the preaching in my local church, that God is not going to let anything bad happen to His child. I will try to live a good life, or at least not too bad a life, or at least feel bad about the life I lead once in a while, or at least think that maybe I should contribute a dollar at the supermarket checkout to some cause or another. As a result of being told that we are born children of God, we end up not believing the warnings. We end up missing out on all of the blessings that God is longing to give to us. We end up in the position of having a God who has no relevance or purpose in our lives. Church becomes pointless and reduced to becoming some kind of emotional support group and social service agency. We end up compiling our grocery list during the sermon, because there is nothing going on up front worth paying attention to. Sound familiar?

You are not born a child of God, but you can become one. You become one by receiving Him? You become one by believing in His name. “Him” is Jesus. You have to come to terms with Jesus, which means you have to come to terms with yourself. In most local churches you are handicapped in this process, because even though we sing about Jesus and pray in His name, we really don’t want Him to get too close. Receiving Jesus means to surrender to Him. Believing in His name means to give Him authority over your life. We are happy to surrender our death to Jesus and give Him authority over our death, but to let Him have our life is an entirely different story.

To surrender your life to Jesus is the basic evangelical message and is no news flash. However, the act of surrender is more than mumbling a salvation prayer. Becoming a child of God is not achieved through some kind of spiritual witchcraft in which a magic spell is uttered and a life is transformed in a puff a smoke and thunder. It is an act of power. The NIV translators occasionally wimp out, and this passage is an example. The NIV says “right to become children of God.” The Greek says dunamis, which is more correctly translated as “power.” Putting Jesus in the driver’s seat of our lives actuates power in our lives, for Jesus is the One who sends to us the Holy Spirit. The next time you find yourself in church, look around for the signs. God’s kids have power! If you don’t see the power of God, you don’t see a child of God. Only the children get the inheritance from their Father: everyone else has a reservation in the land of weeping and gnashing of teeth.

To wrap things up on a note of hope, don’t miss the beginning of the verse. The chance to become a child of God is available to all who want it. That includes you. Shake off the false teaching that is cheating you and push everyone and everything out of the way that hinders you from becoming a child of God. The promises of God are for His kids, not for the neighbor kids. Receive and believe. Now is the time.