My family has recently begun attending the local Presbyterian "Mega Church" as I call it. (Seriously, it's the biggest Presbyterian church I've ever seen. It doesn't seat thousands but it does have three services). The church we had been attending decided to move twenty minutes away so we'd been churchless for a while. The Presbyterian church is where we've sent our kids to AWANA so we had a pretty good feel of the people or at least the place so social anxiety was minimal. I had some other qualifications I felt I needed in a church (I can't remember if I've written about that. I'll have to look. That was an...interesting...process...) and the Presby satisfied them all. We started attending the Saturday evening service which, let me tell you, is a great thing for a church to have.
Anyway, the point is that, as my wife states, Presby is kind of like Catholic light...all the ritual without the Latin, the guilt, and they let the leaders be married. I'm not sure that's an official description, but suffice to say they celebrate things like Ash Wednesday.
I'd never been to an Ash Wednesday service before given that I had the typical FEC sensibilities of "It ain't in the Bible, so we ain't doin' it". Maybe it's my age creeping up on me and sentimentality creeping in, but I felt like I really wanted to go and experience it. I'd done Lent before and was committed to doing it again this year by giving up sugar. Well, sugar in overt forms. I know bread has some sugar in it as do fruits but I'm not giving them up. The sugar in my coffee, cookies, candy, soda, etc. however are verboten. It's the indulgences I'm limiting. (Day two is going on right now for me and...the withdrawals are pretty bad right now. My body is less than happy with me.)
There was a soup and bread meal before the service that we also attended in order that we might get to know the congregation a little better. I say "might" because I'm a little strange when it comes to meeting people. My wife is the more daring one when it comes to conversation. I'm always busy thinking, double thinking, and triple thinking what I'm going to say, how it will be received, how they might respond, and by the time that process is over I start wondering if the length of time I've spent thinking it through has been too long so as to make it not just awkward but super awkward. It's a vicious cycle.
The time came and we all filed into the sizeable sanctuary which filled up very quickly. That was probably my first shock. At all the churches I've been a part of before it was hit or miss that even a quarter of the congregation showed up for an event that wasn't on Sunday morning.
My nine year old daughter nudged me a bit and asked me where the ashes were and if they actually were the burned palm branches from last palm Sunday. My little nerdling had researched it before we left the house. I replied that I didn't know and that wasn't necessarily a for sure thing. She then asked what it was all about. Apparently the things she retained from her research were more along the lines of interesting trivia.
I explained about ashes as a symbol of mourning and how we come to Lent as a recognition of our sins; that our sins have offended God, that we are from dust and to dust we will return.
She asked if she had to get that stuff on her forehead if she went up and I assured her that it's only for the will, completely voluntary. My daughter gave a confession of faith in Jesus last year and still hadn't even gone forward for her first communion so I didn't expect that she would even entertain the idea
One of the things people in FEC circles get hung up on connected to Ash Wednesday and, by extension, Lent is the focus on the "sin" component. I was struck by this when my sister had called me earlier in the day to relate her experience attending the event at a Catholic church. The priest apparently went on about our sin, how sinful we are, how it offends God, and so on until she had to leave. Naturally my Smart Ass (tm) reply was, "Did you check the denomination before you went through the door" and she said yes, of course but...what about Grace? Naturally my brain kicked into overdrive and started obsessing on the differences. I came to a few conclusions and notions.
It was best said by the pastor at the Presby service that night. He said that we cannot understand the full value of that grace until we understand the depths of our depravity and the offensiveness of our sin.
Jesus' sacrifice has little value to those who don't think they did much of anything wrong in the first place. Amazing Grace is only such a sweet song when we realize we are a wretch. I look reflect and find that I can easily live my life thinking that my sins are minor things because I'm keeping the Big Ten with little to no problem. I'm really not bowing down at idols, disrespecting my parents in word or deed, haven't come close to murdering, and I can't even remember the last time I coveted my neighbor's donkey. But God says my heart is corrupt and full of deceit. I sin. I sin all the time. Not a day goes by that I do not sin. It's a modern numbing that tells me "Oh, well, ya know He's going to forgive you so shrug it off and don't give it a second thought." Just because I know that the Judge with find me innocent doesn't mean that I should feel nothing when finding that I've committed a crime. Should I feel condemned? No. However, should I feel nothing? Sin is a cancer and there's not a cancer patient in this world that hears the diagnosis and goes, "Oh, sure. Ok, Doc. Thanks," with a casual air like I can tend to do with my sins.
After an invocation prayer they had someone play and sing Phil Wickham's song Mercy and I nearly wept in my pew. We forget that we need mercy. It's so easy to fall prey to Behavioral Christianity that believes Grace covers everything so don't think on it or let it prick your conscience. We become quite happily numb to our wretchedness. I'm not at all saying that we should consider, as I was told as a child, that every sin we commit is another thorn in the brow or a twist of the nail in Jesus' hand. But it does us well to remember on occasion lest we become like the Ungrateful Servant.
Ash Wednesday is a reminder that our sins have offended God. Lent is all about giving up our little idols, our comforts, and mourning that we tend to lavish them with more adoration and attention than we do the Jesus who saved us. In the end we are our own idols, as it turns out. The things we give up seem to make room for us to hold on to more of the LORD.
I had prepped for the occasion. I wasn't about to be caught off guard again by the Non-FEC style communion where they actually say things to you. "This is the body of Christ broken for you." "Uh....thank you?" (Direct quote from our first visit). I wondered if they would go with the oh so Catholic, "Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return." or the slightly more modernly palatable, "Repent and believe the gospel."
The pastor looked into my eyes and said, "Dust you are and to dust you shall return. Repent, believe the gospel and follow after Jesus."
For the second time that evening I nearly lost it.
I don't believe that there is a power inherent in the rituals themselves. It would be easy to confuse the issue there. I had always seen the rituals as empty expressions without power and meaning. I was likely half right. They are without power. However I do believe that when we use them to draw nigh unto the LORD he is faithful to show up and draw night unto us. Just going through the motions without a fully engage heart is not enough. Believe that the ritual has any power in and of itself is not enough. It's such a fine hair's breadth line that it can be difficult to put into language.
God showed up for me there, that is for sure, just like He has faithfully shown up in my "ritual" of praying three times a day, and reading my Bible first thing in the morning.
Something snagged my attention out of the corner of my eye. The pastor was rising from a bent position and I wondered why since I believed that it was my wife right behind me and she's short but not that short. A familiar bashful and half afraid face appeared belonging to my daughter as the pastor moved out of the way to put an ash cross on my wife's forehead. I could not help but beam at my daughter. I had wondered if she would ever take the next step in her faith walk by taking communion, and here she was participating in Ash Wednesday. She followed me through the communion elements accidentally grabbing the crust of the loaf she was presented with and had an adorable little tug of war with the deacon who held it. Dipping it in the cup of wine she walked faster to catch up with me and ask in a loud whisper, "Do I eat it now or do I wait 'til we're in our seats?". I smiled and told her either was OK, but I eat it right away because it can drip on your hands.
We walked back to our seats, sang a hymn, received the Benediction, and were asked to exit in silence.
Exiting in silence was one of the strangest experiences of my life. It was unsettling, and that was the point. Ash Wednesday is not about rejoicing. The rejoicing comes at the end, on Easter Sunday. We were to feel unsettled, as if something was wrong, because something is wrong. Sin broke the world. Again, I like to think of it as a minor inconvenience, but sin is a terrible, horrible thing that has shattered lives, destroyed man's relationship with God and I wonder how many times I look at my sinning brother and I shrug in the same way I do with it in my life. I couldn't help but think of my previous pastor and the Solemn Assembly he holds every year in October as an "Ash Wednesday" for another season of fasting. I think we could stand to take sin seriously more than once a year.
Pax,
W
Thursday, February 11, 2016
Monday, February 8, 2016
Prayer
Prayer and I have had a bit of a rocky relationship for quite a while. It's a frustrating nebulous thing no one really talks about how you should go about it. It's just something you DO. You talk to the "man up in the sky" for a few minutes, tell him what you want and then move on with your life until you need to do it again. Pastors use the "prayer time" seemingly to wrap up their sermon by providing a closed eye summary of bullet points. The time when prayer has always felt the least odd or awkward for most people is when in dire need. That's easy. You've reached the end of yourself, everything is spinning out of control, and you have no power over outcomes, of course you toss up a prayer.
My position on prayer in the past has been one of, "Well, He knows what I need and he's either going to give it to me or he isn't" or "How in the world is multiple prayers and long hours on my knees going to help? Honestly. He knows my heart, is it really going to sway Him if I bow, scrap, grovel, and wail until my knees bleed and my vocal cords shred?"
When we look into the prayer lives of those in the Bible you see characters more open than others and with some, if you were to take it at face value, they don't seem to have prayed at all. A fault of not recording every detail. I was always oddly comforted that the disciples fell asleep while Jesus asks them to pray with him. I know I'd be spouting all kinds of excuses. "Look, rabbi, come on. We just had a meal, had some wine, and it's getting late. Never mind that we walked all day to get you that donkey and foal you wanted. I close my eyes for two seconds and I'm gonna pass out." They surely didn't need a devil to force them to sleep. My personal schedule is enough to make it so that I can't close my eyes for long without sawing logs wherever I happen to be. My sister-in-law can attest to this. Ten minutes at her house and I'm on her couch in an unconscious state.
I've admired those of other faiths and their various "prayer" activities. Buddhist meditation, the Muslim dedication to praying five times a day no matter the circumstances, and Kabbalist (Jewish Mystic) prayer/meditation.
It's not secret that I favor the Kabbalists in many respects. Sure, they got a little wacky with their Books of Splendor and were really bad at picking who the Messiah is but there was a discipline born out joy that was their prayer life. For them it was about communion with the LORD, that sure heaven was something to look forward to but a glimpse could be experienced here and now. It was coming into his presence and singing praises right along with the angels surrounding the throne. There was a direct experiential component there. It was rarely about asking for things or giving a litany of ailments and discontent about our lives. No Kabbalist would ever presume to tell the LORD how things should be, or how he needed to provide this way, or give him this kind of car now. Although the Lord's Prayer was a Christian document the Kabbalist heart was more often than not, "Not my will be done, but YOUR will be done".
During my early years in FEC (Fundamentalist Evangelical Christianity) I can't remember a single pastor, deacon, or elder who was in love with the LORD. I grant you that perhaps they kept it 'til their personal devotional time, or maybe they were on their way to being in love with the Lord. There were men who TRIED to love the LORD and went to pains to make it seem that way. There were men who wrestled with the LORD sometimes in the very pulpit as they preached. There were men who put on every appearance of being "in good with God". There were men who clearly felt obligated to preach and pastor because of what the LORD had done. And these men formed my notions of why to pray. Namely, "God says do it, so you do it." Prayer was a box to check off the list right up there with "made sure I turned off the oven". It was a regulation. I've had people tell me all my life that this whole "experiencing God" things is just a scam. You do what the book says, you come on Sunday, you put money in the plate, and if you get a little thrill during "How Great Thou Art" when the people harmonize a little then that's fine, but it's NOT the Holy Spirit. Somehow, it's MEANT to be bland all the time.
Once I entered into my thirties and wasn't so angry with those who had taught me, I started taking notice that the teachers in my life were suddenly people who had been broken. They'd had divorces they didn't plan on, children having children out of wedlock, scandals, or even things they'd never mention but you could see the brokenness somewhere about the eyes. They were often quiet and gentle. When they spoke with authority it was rare but bedrock solid. And when it came to prayer it was like a soothing breeze to a weary soul. If you brought up Jesus then there it was, a new look in their eyes. Like they couldn't wait to talk about Him and hoped you just stand back and say "Ok...3...2...1...GO!" and they'd tell you everything the good Lord had done for them, ever, up until 5 seconds before you asked. It was always their prayers that stuck out to me. You can tell when a prayer is from the heart or manufactured, tested, focused grouped, etc. That sincere prayer is born out of brokenness and a love for Him to whom we pray.
All of that to say...(a common phrase here at the Oubliette) I've reclaimed some of the baby from the bathwater I talked about last time.
I did some research online as to different prayer times and I now am praying (as regularly as capable) three times a day. Of course there's a bajillion opinions on what to pray when and inevitably they all disagree with each other. I pray at 9:30am, 12:30pm, and at 7pm every day. Traditionally it's meant to be 9am, 12pm, and 3pm (as I understand it) but life gets in the way. They were monks who set this up and not stay at home husbands who have a child to homeschool, a house to clean, and (biggest differentiation) a wife to look after.
Over the past three to four weeks that I have been praying three times a day I've noticed that my life has taken on some fairly serious changes. When I do pray all three times I've noticed that I am calmer, and react more in line with the "fruit of the Spirit" than when I do not. Sin is not constantly crouching at my door like it once was. I am thinking about the LORD more throughout my day making decisions and choices based on His word in the Bible. Remarkably I have more of a sensation of His presence throughout the day. That presence is something I've wanted for a very long time. I once asked someone why it was that I only feel His presence at church. If God is everywhere shouldn't I feel His presence everywhere? They shrugged and said something along the lines of how if we felt Him everywhere then we wouldn't need faith. I still disagree with that. It's like saying we worship a God who wants to be known but doesn't want us to know Him; or a God who reaches out but doesn't want us to take hold; a God who gives us communion but wants it to be only about the bread and wine.
It's easy to look at rituals or ritualized anything and say that the power is in the act. As Christians we know that isn't true. The reason that I will live my Christian walk partly through "ritualized" prayer is because it creates a rhythm in my life that has me regularly orbiting my the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It has more to do with the promise that if I draw near to Him then He will draw near to me.
I confront myself regularly with the question from my youth, "Why pray to a God who already knows my needs before I as?" Every time I respond that, "I don't know why...but the God who fashioned the universe (literally one song) out of His words, who sent His Son to die for me, this God who greatly loves these specks of dust on a blue dot in space....ASKS me to." He shoves the fact of omnipotence, omniscience, and all the other OMNI that is integral to His being aside and wants to hear about my day, my struggles, how He can help, my joys and praises to Him, etc.
When I pick up my son in my arms at day's end and ask him how his day went, even when he's been home all day, he doesn't hesitate. He doesn't say, "You know, Papa. You were there with me all day." No. He screws up his face, puts a thoughtful finger to his chin and says, "Wehw..." (That's "well" for those who don't speak his language) and begins to tell me everything.
I thank God that every day my children reminds me of what He means when He says that we must all come to him like little children.
Pax,
Will
My position on prayer in the past has been one of, "Well, He knows what I need and he's either going to give it to me or he isn't" or "How in the world is multiple prayers and long hours on my knees going to help? Honestly. He knows my heart, is it really going to sway Him if I bow, scrap, grovel, and wail until my knees bleed and my vocal cords shred?"
When we look into the prayer lives of those in the Bible you see characters more open than others and with some, if you were to take it at face value, they don't seem to have prayed at all. A fault of not recording every detail. I was always oddly comforted that the disciples fell asleep while Jesus asks them to pray with him. I know I'd be spouting all kinds of excuses. "Look, rabbi, come on. We just had a meal, had some wine, and it's getting late. Never mind that we walked all day to get you that donkey and foal you wanted. I close my eyes for two seconds and I'm gonna pass out." They surely didn't need a devil to force them to sleep. My personal schedule is enough to make it so that I can't close my eyes for long without sawing logs wherever I happen to be. My sister-in-law can attest to this. Ten minutes at her house and I'm on her couch in an unconscious state.
I've admired those of other faiths and their various "prayer" activities. Buddhist meditation, the Muslim dedication to praying five times a day no matter the circumstances, and Kabbalist (Jewish Mystic) prayer/meditation.
It's not secret that I favor the Kabbalists in many respects. Sure, they got a little wacky with their Books of Splendor and were really bad at picking who the Messiah is but there was a discipline born out joy that was their prayer life. For them it was about communion with the LORD, that sure heaven was something to look forward to but a glimpse could be experienced here and now. It was coming into his presence and singing praises right along with the angels surrounding the throne. There was a direct experiential component there. It was rarely about asking for things or giving a litany of ailments and discontent about our lives. No Kabbalist would ever presume to tell the LORD how things should be, or how he needed to provide this way, or give him this kind of car now. Although the Lord's Prayer was a Christian document the Kabbalist heart was more often than not, "Not my will be done, but YOUR will be done".
During my early years in FEC (Fundamentalist Evangelical Christianity) I can't remember a single pastor, deacon, or elder who was in love with the LORD. I grant you that perhaps they kept it 'til their personal devotional time, or maybe they were on their way to being in love with the Lord. There were men who TRIED to love the LORD and went to pains to make it seem that way. There were men who wrestled with the LORD sometimes in the very pulpit as they preached. There were men who put on every appearance of being "in good with God". There were men who clearly felt obligated to preach and pastor because of what the LORD had done. And these men formed my notions of why to pray. Namely, "God says do it, so you do it." Prayer was a box to check off the list right up there with "made sure I turned off the oven". It was a regulation. I've had people tell me all my life that this whole "experiencing God" things is just a scam. You do what the book says, you come on Sunday, you put money in the plate, and if you get a little thrill during "How Great Thou Art" when the people harmonize a little then that's fine, but it's NOT the Holy Spirit. Somehow, it's MEANT to be bland all the time.
Once I entered into my thirties and wasn't so angry with those who had taught me, I started taking notice that the teachers in my life were suddenly people who had been broken. They'd had divorces they didn't plan on, children having children out of wedlock, scandals, or even things they'd never mention but you could see the brokenness somewhere about the eyes. They were often quiet and gentle. When they spoke with authority it was rare but bedrock solid. And when it came to prayer it was like a soothing breeze to a weary soul. If you brought up Jesus then there it was, a new look in their eyes. Like they couldn't wait to talk about Him and hoped you just stand back and say "Ok...3...2...1...GO!" and they'd tell you everything the good Lord had done for them, ever, up until 5 seconds before you asked. It was always their prayers that stuck out to me. You can tell when a prayer is from the heart or manufactured, tested, focused grouped, etc. That sincere prayer is born out of brokenness and a love for Him to whom we pray.
All of that to say...(a common phrase here at the Oubliette) I've reclaimed some of the baby from the bathwater I talked about last time.
I did some research online as to different prayer times and I now am praying (as regularly as capable) three times a day. Of course there's a bajillion opinions on what to pray when and inevitably they all disagree with each other. I pray at 9:30am, 12:30pm, and at 7pm every day. Traditionally it's meant to be 9am, 12pm, and 3pm (as I understand it) but life gets in the way. They were monks who set this up and not stay at home husbands who have a child to homeschool, a house to clean, and (biggest differentiation) a wife to look after.
Over the past three to four weeks that I have been praying three times a day I've noticed that my life has taken on some fairly serious changes. When I do pray all three times I've noticed that I am calmer, and react more in line with the "fruit of the Spirit" than when I do not. Sin is not constantly crouching at my door like it once was. I am thinking about the LORD more throughout my day making decisions and choices based on His word in the Bible. Remarkably I have more of a sensation of His presence throughout the day. That presence is something I've wanted for a very long time. I once asked someone why it was that I only feel His presence at church. If God is everywhere shouldn't I feel His presence everywhere? They shrugged and said something along the lines of how if we felt Him everywhere then we wouldn't need faith. I still disagree with that. It's like saying we worship a God who wants to be known but doesn't want us to know Him; or a God who reaches out but doesn't want us to take hold; a God who gives us communion but wants it to be only about the bread and wine.
It's easy to look at rituals or ritualized anything and say that the power is in the act. As Christians we know that isn't true. The reason that I will live my Christian walk partly through "ritualized" prayer is because it creates a rhythm in my life that has me regularly orbiting my the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It has more to do with the promise that if I draw near to Him then He will draw near to me.
I confront myself regularly with the question from my youth, "Why pray to a God who already knows my needs before I as?" Every time I respond that, "I don't know why...but the God who fashioned the universe (literally one song) out of His words, who sent His Son to die for me, this God who greatly loves these specks of dust on a blue dot in space....ASKS me to." He shoves the fact of omnipotence, omniscience, and all the other OMNI that is integral to His being aside and wants to hear about my day, my struggles, how He can help, my joys and praises to Him, etc.
When I pick up my son in my arms at day's end and ask him how his day went, even when he's been home all day, he doesn't hesitate. He doesn't say, "You know, Papa. You were there with me all day." No. He screws up his face, puts a thoughtful finger to his chin and says, "Wehw..." (That's "well" for those who don't speak his language) and begins to tell me everything.
I thank God that every day my children reminds me of what He means when He says that we must all come to him like little children.
Pax,
Will
Monday, January 11, 2016
Throwing the Catholic Baby Out With the Bathwater....
Over the past week, since I kissed Facebook goodbye, I have been doing quite a bit of thinking regarding my Christian walk. (It's probably appropriate to end that sentence with something self deprecating, yet fully accurate, like "or lack thereof") I came to the realization that I REALLY don't know how to "do this".
One of the greater dangers of Protestantism is the freedom it engenders. (For those who don't know me insert the "no...I'm not saying I want to go back to Catholicism..." disclaimer here.) I've mentioned in other posts that during my own childhood it was quite confusing to come to the front of the church with my soul stirred by an altar call only to say the prayer, be patted on the head, given a "gift Bible" and sent to sit with the other believers like a good boy. I'm sure I was not the only one to ever receive the treatment and wonder, "Uh...this is it?". It's quite a bit like hitting twenty-one and you realize that the next big age based event on the calendar is an "Over The Hill" party.
Pentecostals have another thing to look forward to after conversion in the "Baptism of the Holy Spirit". After that you find out your gifting, put it into use, given opportunities to practice it and it's all so exciting. The problem there is that eventually people start manufacturing excitement, manufacturing "crisis" that must be spoken in tongues over etc. At least that was my experience in a few places. Most people become addicted to drama. I, on the other hand, get terribly fatigued by drama. (The last time I encountered Church-drama someone sent me a letter in order to "Tell on the Pastor" I threw it in the trash without opening it because I was just tired of the back biting, slandering, and petty behavior. We never cause so much damage or fight so hard as when there is so little at stake.)
Over the years I've gotten up the courage (or frustration...usually frustration) to ask something along the lines of "What the heck do I do now?!". I'm seeking some way to "do" this things call Christian life and I've often been frustrated with the answer. It's a freedom loving answer. It's always a very non-committal answer of, "Well...ya know...read the Bible. Prayer. Prayer is good. Love your neighbor. And..well...that sort of thing."
I understand that no body in Protestant circles wants to tell another EXACTLY what to do. There is a whiff of legalism that tends to follow there, but sometimes I wonder how much not having outlines of options creates something of a "option paralysis" in more than just me. "Well, try reading in the morning. You know...if you want. Like, maybe in the morning. Or in the afternoon. Or...ya know...whenever. Try and fit prayer in there somewhere. If it's important to you, you'll figure it out." I always hated that last phrase which is more kiss off than I'm comfortable with. Because I can't figure it out then it isn't important to me. Why did I ask you about it? OH, to help me figure it out. Yeah.
Maybe it is just me, as things often tend to be, but too much freedom on a specific thing tends to make me feel like it can just be left up to chance. I want to make Jesus the focus of my life, the very rhythm of the song of my existence, I want it to take up my identity and the best those who came before me (who are alive to talk to) can come up with is, "Well...ya know...do...or...do not...God loves you either way!"
And this is why Catholicism (for all its faults) sounds so good. There is pattern, there is rhythm, there is ritual. You wake up, you do this. You go about your day, you go to mass daily, you say your rosary, you pray at these times. It has shape, structure, and solidity to it. Does it slip into "If you don't do it this way you are going to hell." ? Yeah. Absolutely there is that danger. But what you do proclaims to the world and reflects back to yourself who you are and to whom you belong.
I remember as a teenager having a conversation with one of my parents (ok...argument is probably more accurate) and I threw something in their face about how they don't pray or read the Bible. I was being a snot and more concerned with winning the argument than what was actually true, so I went for the kidney shot which with my parents was their faith. They'd live but I wanted to make it hurt for a long while after. They whipped around on me and rightly told me that I have no idea whatsoever they do with their time. I didn't see what they do in the privacy of their bedroom, or when I wasn't around. I'm almost completely certain that their intention was to keep to the New Testament idea about keeping those things private, and possibly so I could make my own decisions when it came to faith in Jesus, that my coming to him would be genuine and honest.
In retrospect I see the rightness of what they said, but I wonder what I missed out on. Catholics, Jews, Muslims, and Mormons for crying out loud each have systems for their faith. All the Mormons I knew went and attended classes at their church buildings every morning before school to learn about their faith and how to defend it. I still maintain that they probably know more about the Old and New Testament than I do because of their head start. In Catholic and Jewish (orthodox) families they teach their children "This is how you do it. This is how you read this. This is what this means. This is how we act and here is why." Protestantism, as I've seen and understand it, has had as a byproduct a sense of "Ain't nobody going to tell me how to do this" and so we tend to err on the side of, "Come to Jesus and be nice".
"So, why don't you just figure out a way to do it that works for you and just do it, man?"
I will. Believe me I will get to doing that. In a sense I feel that I'm also looking for community. So many people are obsessed with the dual video screens and Hillsong style worship that lasts twice as long as any sermon you might get and then go out to eat, go home and watch the Broncos once a week as the way to do this Christianity thing, and I'm not there anymore if ever I really was. Maybe it's because I'm staring 40 in the eye and I distrust things that play with my emotions. Anyway, the point is that there is a sense of belonging in doing things the same way with others who follow Jesus and the "grab bag" sort of walk hasn't been working. It's causing a bit of discontent that I think comes from a divine place.
So, what works for you? How do you inject Jesus into your life daily? What's your "pattern" of "ritual"?
Pax,
W
Thursday, January 7, 2016
Why I Left Facebook Behind...
Two weeks ago I turned by back on the largest social media platform on the planet: Facebook. It was a fairly bold move on my part because I have been plugged into a mass social media outlet since the days of Livejournal, long before Myspace (the deposed, malformed cousin of the current King Facebook). That reaches uncomfortabley into the late 90s which makes it nearly 20 years of immediate connectedness; 20 years of soaking in the reflected splendor of likes, comments, re-posting and the like. The "problem", such as it may be, was that I remember the world before all of this "greater connectedness". I remember a world where your self worth didn't hang on your every word, tweet, and Instagram post of your dinner.
It was easy to look at my posts and say that "Hey, look! I'm communicating! That's why I'm here." The truth was far more subtle and more insidious than I thought.
Scientists have discovered that the reason people are so seemingly addicted to their phones is that when we check our messages, when we get a "like" alert, when someone reposts our stuff, when we read a funny post we get a little endorphin hit. Anytime the day slows down or even a conversation slows down we reach for our phones hoping to get a tiny dose of endorphins. Success in a game does this as well, which contributes to the rise in mobile gaming. We chose that instead of being bored or working through the awkward silences. I noticed that I'd be out to a meal with a group of people and as soon as I was done eating, once I was done being self absorbed, I'd start itching to pull out my phone. Inevitably some brave soul who couldn't take it anymore would break the proverbial "seal" and pull out their phone. With that social "permission" it was off to the races as everyone did the same.
Now, I don't want you, dear reader, to believe I am condemning those who do that. I was once one of them. I feel the craving even now even though I have deleted the app. The above were merely minor facets of a greater problem. It seems strange to say that me "happiness" was affected by social media, but which of us can say that it isn't true?
We are built to crave things, built to want satisfaction. So many of the impulses we fall prey to fulfill something deep in us. Whole industries are built on our desire for food, sex, and, social media the biggest of all, the approval of others. It didn't matter whether it was a "like" on a post or an argument that I got into, it was quite a drug. I can't count the number of times I was involved writing something witty or responding to someone's argument and my son wanted to talk to/play with me and I shoved him aside (figuratively). His pouting had little to no affect on me at the time. As I look back I'm ashamed by that behavior.
That was the first moment I realized I had a problem, that something wasn't quite right about this. I realized that it was addictive behavior.
One of the greatest reasons I used social media, one of which I already mentioned above, was in argument. I'm not talking about argument as in a fight for merely a fight's sake, I mean it in the classical sense. If anyone engages me in conversation and says something I know little to nothing about the chances are that I'll begin to ask questions about that subject. If the responses don't match up with my experience or understanding then I will pursue that line of questioning challenging the individual. Not in a confrontational way, though the internet doesn't have much flexibility of tone so it often gets construed as that. My goal in all things is to find the truth and the heart of the matter and that often requires questioning...which can wrankle people. In person or on-line I am super sensitive to one particular tactic. When I question a statement/belief I will often ask a few questions in response. The individual then either a) gives an oblique phrase that sounds like it answers the question but provides no answers at all (politicians do this all the time) or b) answer one question and purposely forget all the others. This...drives...me...nuts.
Back in the beginnings of social media the idealistic notion was that we would all communicate en masse and come to a better understanding with each other. We would engage with one another, ideas would collide and the species would be greater for it. That was the promise. The reality was hardly surprising when I think back on it. The pioneers who blazed the trail WERE the open minded seekers of truth...those who followed behind reinforced societal norms of cliques and punishing by insult and exclusion those who refused to go along. Instead of fully exploring an idea among equally curious and open minded individuals and thereby come to a synthesis of ideas it became tribes (or herds if you prefer) of like-minded individuals. I still believe that this is the power of the internet, but the outliers, the "mavericks", and open minded have either been consumed or have found a different fringe upon which to hold their meetings. Popularity of a medium can be a terrible thing. And this was another facet of my frustration. Few in this world are looking to have their ideas and beliefs challenged in open, honest discourse. The dream became a nightmare...or, most appropriately, a nightMIRE that few can escape from.
The time suck was another facet, and the one that ultimately was the final straw. There were so many things I could be doing with all that time. Writing was the first thing that sprang to mind that I never seem to have time for. The one that hit my heart the hardest (and the reason I'm writing this on my spirituality blog) was that I never seemed to have time to focus on my Bible or prayer. I'd sit down, get a notification and *poof* thirty minutes later that rabbit trail was fully explored. "This will just take a second," I'd say and half an hour would be gone.
I wish that I could tell you that Facebook is gone and now I'm reading my Bible and praying regularly as intended. Of course not. There is within my flesh a rebellion and that shouldn't have come as much of a surprise to me as it did. There are a thousand other distractions in life that my sin nature is very happy to revel in rather than read the very words of the God who fashioned every atom and sacrificed himself to pay my sin debt. Yeah, when I thought of it like that I felt pretty small too. And this infinite God who effortlessly directs the courses of nations and the future of mankind as a whole, who loves me and prepares a way for me...that God actually WANTS me to talk to him and I'd rather watch the first season of "The Great British Baking Show" AGAIN than do that.
The two days after quitting Facebook have had a profound affect on my. I am more present, more focused, more patient and engaged with everything around me. But the greatest thing so far in these admittedly early stages of "detox" has been one particular realization. My previous Pastor had a mentor who often told him many years ago that he had a broken "wanter". That means that the things he wanted were not the things that were best for him, that his desires were leading to places that were the opposite of healthy things. That is accurate of all of us. Quitting Facebook made me realize just how broken my "wanter" is because I slowed down and was left with little to do but ruminate, to think thoughts without somewhat regular interruptions. There has been a silence to where now I can think and process instead of moving from one notification to the next, or crafting something witty to get "likes".
Again, I don't condemn those on Facebook. If you have an account we can still be friends, by all means, and if you check your phone while we are out to eat I won't glare. I don't think negatively of those who do. This is just where I'm at for me...and things are getting better.
Pax,
W
It was easy to look at my posts and say that "Hey, look! I'm communicating! That's why I'm here." The truth was far more subtle and more insidious than I thought.
Scientists have discovered that the reason people are so seemingly addicted to their phones is that when we check our messages, when we get a "like" alert, when someone reposts our stuff, when we read a funny post we get a little endorphin hit. Anytime the day slows down or even a conversation slows down we reach for our phones hoping to get a tiny dose of endorphins. Success in a game does this as well, which contributes to the rise in mobile gaming. We chose that instead of being bored or working through the awkward silences. I noticed that I'd be out to a meal with a group of people and as soon as I was done eating, once I was done being self absorbed, I'd start itching to pull out my phone. Inevitably some brave soul who couldn't take it anymore would break the proverbial "seal" and pull out their phone. With that social "permission" it was off to the races as everyone did the same.
Now, I don't want you, dear reader, to believe I am condemning those who do that. I was once one of them. I feel the craving even now even though I have deleted the app. The above were merely minor facets of a greater problem. It seems strange to say that me "happiness" was affected by social media, but which of us can say that it isn't true?
We are built to crave things, built to want satisfaction. So many of the impulses we fall prey to fulfill something deep in us. Whole industries are built on our desire for food, sex, and, social media the biggest of all, the approval of others. It didn't matter whether it was a "like" on a post or an argument that I got into, it was quite a drug. I can't count the number of times I was involved writing something witty or responding to someone's argument and my son wanted to talk to/play with me and I shoved him aside (figuratively). His pouting had little to no affect on me at the time. As I look back I'm ashamed by that behavior.
That was the first moment I realized I had a problem, that something wasn't quite right about this. I realized that it was addictive behavior.
One of the greatest reasons I used social media, one of which I already mentioned above, was in argument. I'm not talking about argument as in a fight for merely a fight's sake, I mean it in the classical sense. If anyone engages me in conversation and says something I know little to nothing about the chances are that I'll begin to ask questions about that subject. If the responses don't match up with my experience or understanding then I will pursue that line of questioning challenging the individual. Not in a confrontational way, though the internet doesn't have much flexibility of tone so it often gets construed as that. My goal in all things is to find the truth and the heart of the matter and that often requires questioning...which can wrankle people. In person or on-line I am super sensitive to one particular tactic. When I question a statement/belief I will often ask a few questions in response. The individual then either a) gives an oblique phrase that sounds like it answers the question but provides no answers at all (politicians do this all the time) or b) answer one question and purposely forget all the others. This...drives...me...nuts.
Back in the beginnings of social media the idealistic notion was that we would all communicate en masse and come to a better understanding with each other. We would engage with one another, ideas would collide and the species would be greater for it. That was the promise. The reality was hardly surprising when I think back on it. The pioneers who blazed the trail WERE the open minded seekers of truth...those who followed behind reinforced societal norms of cliques and punishing by insult and exclusion those who refused to go along. Instead of fully exploring an idea among equally curious and open minded individuals and thereby come to a synthesis of ideas it became tribes (or herds if you prefer) of like-minded individuals. I still believe that this is the power of the internet, but the outliers, the "mavericks", and open minded have either been consumed or have found a different fringe upon which to hold their meetings. Popularity of a medium can be a terrible thing. And this was another facet of my frustration. Few in this world are looking to have their ideas and beliefs challenged in open, honest discourse. The dream became a nightmare...or, most appropriately, a nightMIRE that few can escape from.
The time suck was another facet, and the one that ultimately was the final straw. There were so many things I could be doing with all that time. Writing was the first thing that sprang to mind that I never seem to have time for. The one that hit my heart the hardest (and the reason I'm writing this on my spirituality blog) was that I never seemed to have time to focus on my Bible or prayer. I'd sit down, get a notification and *poof* thirty minutes later that rabbit trail was fully explored. "This will just take a second," I'd say and half an hour would be gone.
I wish that I could tell you that Facebook is gone and now I'm reading my Bible and praying regularly as intended. Of course not. There is within my flesh a rebellion and that shouldn't have come as much of a surprise to me as it did. There are a thousand other distractions in life that my sin nature is very happy to revel in rather than read the very words of the God who fashioned every atom and sacrificed himself to pay my sin debt. Yeah, when I thought of it like that I felt pretty small too. And this infinite God who effortlessly directs the courses of nations and the future of mankind as a whole, who loves me and prepares a way for me...that God actually WANTS me to talk to him and I'd rather watch the first season of "The Great British Baking Show" AGAIN than do that.
The two days after quitting Facebook have had a profound affect on my. I am more present, more focused, more patient and engaged with everything around me. But the greatest thing so far in these admittedly early stages of "detox" has been one particular realization. My previous Pastor had a mentor who often told him many years ago that he had a broken "wanter". That means that the things he wanted were not the things that were best for him, that his desires were leading to places that were the opposite of healthy things. That is accurate of all of us. Quitting Facebook made me realize just how broken my "wanter" is because I slowed down and was left with little to do but ruminate, to think thoughts without somewhat regular interruptions. There has been a silence to where now I can think and process instead of moving from one notification to the next, or crafting something witty to get "likes".
Again, I don't condemn those on Facebook. If you have an account we can still be friends, by all means, and if you check your phone while we are out to eat I won't glare. I don't think negatively of those who do. This is just where I'm at for me...and things are getting better.
Pax,
W
Tuesday, January 5, 2016
That Awkard Moment...
When you got to a Church service and the Pastor talks about how the Pharisees in Jesus day were not just holy in word but also in deed, that they practiced what they preached....and then your devotional two days latter leads you to Matthew 23 and you hit verse 3.
Sunday, January 3, 2016
We Played...And You Did Not Dance
A few weeks ago I was challenged by someone. I don't even remember the context although it was probably me hating on social media even though I'm clearly dependent on it.
I'll admit I've been scared of doing that. There is a certain anxiety in giving it all up like we've been called to, and there is no doubt that we have been called to die to self, to leave our old lives behind.
Today I was walking through a store that caters to all fandoms. The complete spectrum from Star Wars, Supernatural, Attack on Titan, and everything in between was represented. It was quite mind boggling. There was the core media products and then aisle after aisle of plushes, 1/8 models, key chains and memorabilia. And I realized something very uncomfortable. It's just for myself and my own wonderings. I don't want to be confused as judging others at this point. But suddenly I wondered...these are our legends and each legend almost has its own religion of sorts.
Have I crossed over into worship of Doctor Who when I spend more time watching the show, reading the novels, collecting the comics, admiring the memorabilia, and giving it my focused attention than I do the Lord Jesus and the Bible let alone talking about Him and spending time in his presence through prayer or any of the surrounding activities? Can it be said that I am a disciple of the risen Lord Jesus when he is not my chief preoccupation?
If nothing else it exposes a significant deficiency in my heart, mind, and soul.
We don't have to go far in the relationship metaphor to find that this will cause issues. If a husband makes his wife a "Football Widow" there is some neglect and friction that will have an impact. If a spouse spends more time talking to and about a different member of the opposite sex than their own spouse what is going to happen? Even if the neglected spouse isn't jealous will that relationship suffer? I think we would all say that, quite naturally, it would. As a Christian I'm called to love the "Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength and...I can honestly say I don't make the cut there.
I watch my kids and they are constantly begging to be entertained, as if that's the aim of life. And apparently I've taught them that it is. I feel the spirit's prompting, however, in a different direction.
If man's chief purpose is not to be entertained what is it?
The chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy him forever....and I've barely been about the business of either.
Pax,
W
They said "Man's purpose was never to be entertained, but to know and experience God." (From memory...I'm probably botching that) It really hit me hard, so hard that it's pretty much ruined me. I've spent more than a few nights looking at my Netflix queue, my PS4, even my board games and I keep wondering "What the hell I am doing?" That one comment has been like a virus, infecting my night time thoughts, especially those right before bed. It's so basic, so foundational in fact that it shook the house of my faith.
A few days later a quote from Lewis' "Screwtape Letters" popped up on my Facebook feed talking about how one of the greatest things that demons is the human desire for something novel, new, and exciting.
Both of those incidences manage to get me all ajumble inside. None of it sat well with me and I'm glad that it didn't.
Honestly, I've spent a lot of my life not knowing who I am. I've been in love with Jesus. That's the best way that I can put it. There are a lot of people who like Jesus or are just in love with Jesus. He sounds great, he did a lot for us, we like the warm fuzzies...but how many of us enter into a committed relationship with him? Like marriage level? I'm not sure that I have before. I certainly met Jesus, liked Jesus, and loved Jesus, but I think we are called to more than than just "dating Jesus". Dating Jesus, to me, means that I spend some happy times with him and then go about my life when it's not Sunday or other times that I'm "available" to Him by choice. Sure, I'm not seeing Buddha, Krishna, or Mohammed at the same time but dating isn't really a commitment. I've said "I'm a Christian" and now I am beginning to understand that what I've been saying by that is, "Yeah, Jesus and I hang out. We hold hands. We talk about life. You know. He blesses me from time to time and I praise him."
A far different thing is what I think we are called to: "Marriage". Literally taking his name. I'm not talking about a cross around my neck or calling myself a "Christian", but to actually make him the fundamental figure and substance of my identity. That's different than being in orbit around Jesus. It's landing on the planet, sabotaging your own engines so you can never leave, setting up a shelter, and committing yourself to living in Him, breathing him in, and seeing everything from that perspective.
I'll admit I've been scared of doing that. There is a certain anxiety in giving it all up like we've been called to, and there is no doubt that we have been called to die to self, to leave our old lives behind.
Today I was walking through a store that caters to all fandoms. The complete spectrum from Star Wars, Supernatural, Attack on Titan, and everything in between was represented. It was quite mind boggling. There was the core media products and then aisle after aisle of plushes, 1/8 models, key chains and memorabilia. And I realized something very uncomfortable. It's just for myself and my own wonderings. I don't want to be confused as judging others at this point. But suddenly I wondered...these are our legends and each legend almost has its own religion of sorts.
Have I crossed over into worship of Doctor Who when I spend more time watching the show, reading the novels, collecting the comics, admiring the memorabilia, and giving it my focused attention than I do the Lord Jesus and the Bible let alone talking about Him and spending time in his presence through prayer or any of the surrounding activities? Can it be said that I am a disciple of the risen Lord Jesus when he is not my chief preoccupation?
If nothing else it exposes a significant deficiency in my heart, mind, and soul.
We don't have to go far in the relationship metaphor to find that this will cause issues. If a husband makes his wife a "Football Widow" there is some neglect and friction that will have an impact. If a spouse spends more time talking to and about a different member of the opposite sex than their own spouse what is going to happen? Even if the neglected spouse isn't jealous will that relationship suffer? I think we would all say that, quite naturally, it would. As a Christian I'm called to love the "Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength and...I can honestly say I don't make the cut there.
I watch my kids and they are constantly begging to be entertained, as if that's the aim of life. And apparently I've taught them that it is. I feel the spirit's prompting, however, in a different direction.
If man's chief purpose is not to be entertained what is it?
The chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy him forever....and I've barely been about the business of either.
Pax,
W
Sunday, September 6, 2015
There is Always More Ego
Recently Dr. Wayne Dyer passed away. While not a professed Christian, he preferred to advise people to be Christ-like rather than Christian, he had quite an impact on me. Dyer sprang up during an era of late 90's self-help, pseudo-mysticism gurus.
My first memory of him was watching PBS really late at night during one of my seasons of insomnia. It was during Telethon time, a most distressing week to watch public broadcasting, and they were showing highlights of the show to come. Here was this guy talking about Lao Tzu, the Tao, Zen, quantum physics, eastern mysticism, returning to Source, and I thought, "Oh great. Here we go. Another one hopping on the Deepak Chopra bandwagon." I have a great distaste for Chopra. While he raises some interesting notions I never got the feeling that he actually lived what he believed. Dyer, on the other hand, radiated authenticity. You could tell that despite any fame he had achieved he was constantly working on an understanding of humanity and spirituality. Like some mad self-help scientist he was experimenting on himself first.
So, why do I bring this up on a blog that is, ostensibly, one on Christian Spirituality? Well, if I haven't mentioned it before, I claim truth wherever I find it. Bits of Zen, scraps of Kabbalah, and even the odd snippet of Carl Jung all contain little bits of truth. When I find something that works in a way that doesn't directly contradict scripture, I tend to consider it.
In "celebration" of Dr. Dyer's passing his company is giving away for free his movie called "The Shift". I watched it and...predictably it altered my perception and was of great benefit. Sometimes it takes hearing the same thing from a different perspective. He began with talking about the Ego.
If you've followed my spiritual journey as of late, you know that I think of the Ego as the enemy within. I'm constantly of the opinion that, yes, Satan is an entity but the greatest threat to my spiritual life and godliness is my Ego. The Lord and I have done some good work in surgically removing slivers of the shrapnel scattered throughout my soul as a result of the Ego grenade having gone off. I'd never been deluded enough to think I've managed to eliminate it from my spirit. I was always hoping and praying for more renewing of my mind in this regard. And then the Lord sent "The Shift".
Chief among the many lessons gleaned from the movie was in regards to Dyer's example of a baby. For nine months we are in the womb, perfectly helpless but perfectly taken care of. All our needs are met. What if once we leave the womb our needs continue being met?
Now, of course, at this point he gets all self-help and he talks about the universe giving us whatever we need, that we should return to "Source" and a ton of other things that would set a Fundamentalist Evangelical Christian's teeth on edge...HOWEVER...Is he on to something here?
In Philippians Paul says "My God shall supply all your needs according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus". We sing choruses (well...we used to back in the day) about Jehovah Jirah, God the Provider, and we pay lip service to the verses such as "Be Anxious for Nothing" and "Consider the lilies of the field" and what does our mind say? Logic kicks in and we mutter, "Yeah right, Lord. That's fine for lilies and sparrows, but I've got a mortgage and student loans. You don't know what it's like." But what is it like? What REALLY?
We Christians have pretty much no right to complain. We chuckle at the people of Israel in the Old Testament as God is throwing Manna and quail at them, creating streams in the desert and still they doubt, still they worry, still they complain. "God's not taking care of us. Oh, if only we were in bondage like the old days. Sure, our masters were cruel but our bellies were full." Are we much different? We don't take Him at his word. All of our anxiety and cares He tells us to cast on HIM. Why? Because He loves us, because we are His children. What father does not care for his children? What father says, "Listen, don't worry about it. I've got this. Cattle on a thousand hills, ya know? I'll take care of you son/daughter."
Where does sin spring from? Sure, our very nature as fleshy creatures, but the motivation of sin from the garden, to Cain, to Abraham lying about Sarai let alone that business with Hagar, to Simon Peter, to Judas, to you and me sinning a few hours ago is one thought, "God doesn't know what he's talking about and I have to take care of myself and make sure I get what I deserve." That thinking has a name, and it is Ego...the Flesh.
I just spent my first whole day believing that all of my needs were met and/or going to be met as I needed them to be and it was amazing. Every need from physical, mental, spiritual, sexual, psychological...I believed it and received because 1) He is a big enough God and 2) If He was going to lie about it then what kind of God is He? I released any "What about me?" thought and let the Lord pick up the slack. And He showed up. Some of the stories are too personal for such a public forum, but suffice to say He did as He promised.
He loves us so much and He is just waiting for us to get over ourselves; to let go of the constant need to program, analyze, control, to make sure we get our portion, and take care of it all in our own power.
For some reason it reminds me of a few things I've heard about the foundations of spiritual walks. It was once asked of a Zen Buddhist what one must do to attain Enlightenment and he said,, "Chop wood, carry water." Another Zen master said, "wash your bowl after eating." While the Gospel of Thomas may not be canon, one saying that strikes me as true is when Jesus supposedly says, "Lift a stone and you will find me. Split a piece of wood and I am there."
So, why bring up Zen and a rogue "Gospel"? Because spirituality even among the non-believers is in the quiet simple moments and day to day routine. In our modern day we are constantly making lists, focusing on the "doing", keeping to schedules, being distracted by Candy Crush, worrying about what we are going to eat, what we are going to drink, what we are going to wear...and we are not so different from the people whom Jesus told to stop running after those things. The pagans do that. Stop it. Be different. When we stop He shows up. When we rest in Him we find rest. It is our Ego that drives us to busy and crazy because it whispers in our ear how important we are, how critical we must be, how this relationship or that would fail if it wasn't for us, if it wasn't for our SELF doing it.
And it's a lie.
W
My first memory of him was watching PBS really late at night during one of my seasons of insomnia. It was during Telethon time, a most distressing week to watch public broadcasting, and they were showing highlights of the show to come. Here was this guy talking about Lao Tzu, the Tao, Zen, quantum physics, eastern mysticism, returning to Source, and I thought, "Oh great. Here we go. Another one hopping on the Deepak Chopra bandwagon." I have a great distaste for Chopra. While he raises some interesting notions I never got the feeling that he actually lived what he believed. Dyer, on the other hand, radiated authenticity. You could tell that despite any fame he had achieved he was constantly working on an understanding of humanity and spirituality. Like some mad self-help scientist he was experimenting on himself first.
So, why do I bring this up on a blog that is, ostensibly, one on Christian Spirituality? Well, if I haven't mentioned it before, I claim truth wherever I find it. Bits of Zen, scraps of Kabbalah, and even the odd snippet of Carl Jung all contain little bits of truth. When I find something that works in a way that doesn't directly contradict scripture, I tend to consider it.
In "celebration" of Dr. Dyer's passing his company is giving away for free his movie called "The Shift". I watched it and...predictably it altered my perception and was of great benefit. Sometimes it takes hearing the same thing from a different perspective. He began with talking about the Ego.
If you've followed my spiritual journey as of late, you know that I think of the Ego as the enemy within. I'm constantly of the opinion that, yes, Satan is an entity but the greatest threat to my spiritual life and godliness is my Ego. The Lord and I have done some good work in surgically removing slivers of the shrapnel scattered throughout my soul as a result of the Ego grenade having gone off. I'd never been deluded enough to think I've managed to eliminate it from my spirit. I was always hoping and praying for more renewing of my mind in this regard. And then the Lord sent "The Shift".
Chief among the many lessons gleaned from the movie was in regards to Dyer's example of a baby. For nine months we are in the womb, perfectly helpless but perfectly taken care of. All our needs are met. What if once we leave the womb our needs continue being met?
Now, of course, at this point he gets all self-help and he talks about the universe giving us whatever we need, that we should return to "Source" and a ton of other things that would set a Fundamentalist Evangelical Christian's teeth on edge...HOWEVER...Is he on to something here?
In Philippians Paul says "My God shall supply all your needs according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus". We sing choruses (well...we used to back in the day) about Jehovah Jirah, God the Provider, and we pay lip service to the verses such as "Be Anxious for Nothing" and "Consider the lilies of the field" and what does our mind say? Logic kicks in and we mutter, "Yeah right, Lord. That's fine for lilies and sparrows, but I've got a mortgage and student loans. You don't know what it's like." But what is it like? What REALLY?
We Christians have pretty much no right to complain. We chuckle at the people of Israel in the Old Testament as God is throwing Manna and quail at them, creating streams in the desert and still they doubt, still they worry, still they complain. "God's not taking care of us. Oh, if only we were in bondage like the old days. Sure, our masters were cruel but our bellies were full." Are we much different? We don't take Him at his word. All of our anxiety and cares He tells us to cast on HIM. Why? Because He loves us, because we are His children. What father does not care for his children? What father says, "Listen, don't worry about it. I've got this. Cattle on a thousand hills, ya know? I'll take care of you son/daughter."
Where does sin spring from? Sure, our very nature as fleshy creatures, but the motivation of sin from the garden, to Cain, to Abraham lying about Sarai let alone that business with Hagar, to Simon Peter, to Judas, to you and me sinning a few hours ago is one thought, "God doesn't know what he's talking about and I have to take care of myself and make sure I get what I deserve." That thinking has a name, and it is Ego...the Flesh.
I just spent my first whole day believing that all of my needs were met and/or going to be met as I needed them to be and it was amazing. Every need from physical, mental, spiritual, sexual, psychological...I believed it and received because 1) He is a big enough God and 2) If He was going to lie about it then what kind of God is He? I released any "What about me?" thought and let the Lord pick up the slack. And He showed up. Some of the stories are too personal for such a public forum, but suffice to say He did as He promised.
He loves us so much and He is just waiting for us to get over ourselves; to let go of the constant need to program, analyze, control, to make sure we get our portion, and take care of it all in our own power.
For some reason it reminds me of a few things I've heard about the foundations of spiritual walks. It was once asked of a Zen Buddhist what one must do to attain Enlightenment and he said,, "Chop wood, carry water." Another Zen master said, "wash your bowl after eating." While the Gospel of Thomas may not be canon, one saying that strikes me as true is when Jesus supposedly says, "Lift a stone and you will find me. Split a piece of wood and I am there."
So, why bring up Zen and a rogue "Gospel"? Because spirituality even among the non-believers is in the quiet simple moments and day to day routine. In our modern day we are constantly making lists, focusing on the "doing", keeping to schedules, being distracted by Candy Crush, worrying about what we are going to eat, what we are going to drink, what we are going to wear...and we are not so different from the people whom Jesus told to stop running after those things. The pagans do that. Stop it. Be different. When we stop He shows up. When we rest in Him we find rest. It is our Ego that drives us to busy and crazy because it whispers in our ear how important we are, how critical we must be, how this relationship or that would fail if it wasn't for us, if it wasn't for our SELF doing it.
And it's a lie.
W
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)