On Faith

God calls us oftentimes to do things–superhuman things, things above our own ability, above our comprehension–things which, more often than not, make us look completely crazy–whether it was Moses telling the Pharaoh to let his people go, Gideon building an army of  three hundred to face the Midiannite camp, or Noah, building an ark on dry land, and warning of a flood…I am certain their peers would have most definitely thought them insane.

Not only is the challenge often daunting, but the calling has perhaps made you unpopular, required a sacrifice, made you appear to be a lunatic, and just seems hopeless, beyond your capabilities.  Sometimes what God asks of you is downright scary.  David, anointed king of Israel, is chased by Saul, his murderous father-in-law; Ruth, widowed and destitute, moves with Naomi back to a land she has never seen , to serve a God unlike all the gods she has worshiped; Paul changes from a persecutor of Christians to a slave of Christ, spreading the faith throughout his imprisonment, suffering, and death.

We don’t always face such obstacles.  But the obstacles we do face, they require faith.  What exactly is faith?  Romans 8:18-31 gives us insight and encouragement.  Paul writes, “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared to the glory which shall be revealed in us.  For the earnest expectation of the creation eagerly waits for the revealing of the sons of God.  For the creation was subjected to futility not willingly, but because of Him who subjected it in hope; because the creation itself also will be delivered form the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God.  For we know that the whole creation groans and labors with birth pangs until now.  Not only that, but we also have the firstfruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, eagerly waiting for the adoption,t he redemption of our body.  For we were saved in this hope;for why does one still hope for what he sees?  But if we eagerly hope for what we do not see, we eagerly wait for it with perseverance.  Likewise, the spirit also helps us in our weaknesses.  For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself makes intercession for the us with groanings which cannot be uttered.  Now He searches the hearts knows what he mind of the Spirit is, because he makes intercession for the saints according to the will of God.  For whom He foreknew, He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son, that He might be the firstborn among many brethren.  Moreover, whom He predestined, these He also called; whom he called, He also justified; and whom He justified, these He also glorified.  What then shall we say to these things?  If God is for us, who can be against us?”

There are certain important statements or phrases in this text.  The first is that, twice, believer are referred to as the children of God, as waiting for an adoption.  Therefore, God loves us as His children, and Jesus makes it quite clear that we may call upon God in Matt. 7:9-11, “  What man is there among you who if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone?  Or if he asks for a fish, will he give him a serpent?  If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Gather who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!”  We can trust God, and expect from God, for in James 1:6-8, the brother of Jesus states, “But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, driven and tossed by the wind.  Let not that man suppose he will have anything from the Lord: he is a double-minded man, unstable in all hiss ways.”  James 4:23 says, “You lust and do not have.  You murder and covet adn cannot obtain.  You fight and war, yet you do not have because you do not ask.  You ask and do not receive because you ask amiss, that you may spend it on your pleasures.”  It is clear that as children of God, we can trust God to know our needs and to give accordingly, even if our needs are different than we perceive.  We ar to ask in faith , and to ask according to the nature of God, for God will not act apart from His nature.  We must check our motives and search our hearts as well, to make sure we are asking with the intent of glorifying God.

The next important statement is that we hope for the unseen, not hte seen.  What does this mean?  If we are given a vision from God, should we not hope?  Yes, we shall, for hope and faith are intertwined.  Our regeneration into glorified bodies is a promise, and our vision from God equally so.  We do not hope for things seen at present, for they have already happened, and the hope for that which has happened, unless we hope for it again, is foolish, for hope is defined as, “wishing for something with expectation of its fulfillment.“  We hope therefore, for the unseen, the vision, the ark, the deliverance of a nation, of ourselves, that which we have glimpsed, that which hasn’t come to pass.  We may not have a a vision of a post-Goliath Israel and live to kill a giant; we may not build an ark in the middle of a desert.  However, God still has an important task or tasks for us.  We may become missionaries, we may abandon our family’s dream for us to be doctors or lawyers to become pastors or counselors.  We may find ourselves in foreign lands all because God said, “Go.”  We may find ourselves not knowing what we’re in for initially, but after the brokenness, after the tears, prayers, tribulations of every kind, we find that we have served God’s greater purpose, where He wanted us and when; and we can reap joy that in all our sorrow and laughter, no matter where we have been or what we have suffered, God has yet been Sovereign, and according to His might and eternality, still is and ever shall be.  Sometimes when we embark on the impossible, on the futile, possessing only a vision as assurance from God, the whispered promise, we can become easily discouraged.  We see the end, clearly, and long for it.  In fact, the whole essence of our being groans with all of creation for that glorious end.  However clearly we may visualize the end, though, we cannot see the way.  We have a destination, but no road map, equivalent to God’s telling Abraham to simply, “Go to a land that I will show you.”  Sometimes the vision takes years. Dr. Falwell did not construct Liberty University, one of the leading evangelical Christian schools in America overnight.  As a matter of fact, he had a vision, and he acted on it, in faith.  The school remained in debt from it’s beginning all the way until my sophomore year of college, the fall of 2007.  Dr. Falwell was a true visionary.  In Habakkuk 2:2-3, the prophet describes to the listeners, “Then the Lord answered me and said, ‘Write the vision and make it plain on tablets, that He may run who reads it.  For the vision is yet for an appointed time; but at the end it will speak and it will not lie.  Though it tarries, wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not tarry.’”  O! The power of writing a vision down!  The faith, and the communication with God, which stirs us to say, “The Lord told me this!  Look, for I shall obey!”  For when we see the vision completed, and the will of God performed, executed, carried out, we see that it was not of ourselves but of Him who foreordained it.  The final statement is this, “For whom He foreknew, He predestined to become conformed to the image of His son.”  We, being called to life, whether housewives, preachers, bankers, physicians–we who are called to serve God, whatever trials we face, shall be made holy.  Though there is a cost–that we take up our cross–Philippians 1:6 reassures us, that we may continue, “being confident in one thing, that He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Christ Jesus.”  That completion is that which comes by serving the Lord, that which comes through seeking His face daily and walking in His will, and His will is that we become more holy, conformed to the image of His holy and blameless son, who intercedes for us even now.

I am no one, that I should speak regarding faith.  I have struggled, especially lately.  I have been given a vision greater than myself, and I find myself wholly dependent upon God; I find myself praying fervently in such a way as I have never, ever prayed, even weeping at times.  But perhaps, for all this, I may be qualified.  For I do not write having not struggled, such would render me unable to relate to common man.  Rather, I write, having struggled, and still struggling, I recall the promises of God, and hold fast to them.  I recall the vision that God has given me, of whom I will marry, and of the ministry we shall have, and as Jacob wrestled with the angel, so I will wrestle to hang on to this promise, this vision.  Therefore, my brethren, my brothers and sisters in Christ, I urge you to do likewise.

In closing, I would call to mind a statement made by a wonderful preacher and exhorter of the Word, Dr. Ed Hindson, who on October 26, 2007, proclaimed to approximately 4000 students, “You have to rise to the level of the challenge to reach the opportunity for greatness.”  We cannot do it alone, for these are above human capability; they can only be done through God.  The message is clear:  To rise to the level of the challenge, you must make yourself available to God, and then obey in faith, no matter how simple, or how crazy the demand may seem, and then the opportunity for greatness, the opportunity for more chances to join God in His work will come.  It will not come with the approval of the wold, cloaked in riches and fame, perhaps, but it will come, cloaked in the mystery, the greatness, the holiness, glory, and might of he one, true living God.

May He who has summoned us all bless you greatly with peace and sound mind.  Run the race in faith, in the name of the Father, the Son, and he Holy Spirit, I close.

Amen.

March/April Prayer Wall

Write your prayer requests in the comment boxes….

The Power of Amen

Many families say grace before they eat dinner.  Some families, I have found, say grace after dinner, with the idea that they would rather thank God with great praise than praise Him distractedly while salivating over their food.  I don’t think God has a preference; what God cares about most is the state of their heart while they pray.

I find myself in a dilemma, constantly having to refocus, especially after I am hungry.  ”Thank you Heavenly Father for your provision in our lives and your faithfulness to us.  Please bless the hands that prepared this food.  We also take this moment to lift up to you those who don’t have.  Lord, be their strength and provide for them according to their needs, out of the abundance of your love.  Amen.”

Sometimes I pray when things are tight and I  need the ultimate Provider.  I pray when my heart is broken and I am hurting.  I pray when I am happy.  No matter how sincere my prayer, no matter what I pray about, I have come to realize I ignore one little word that contains all the power and serves as reassurance to my soul:  Amen.

The translation for amen is “so be it.”  Amen is far more than a cursory ending to a prayer.  Amen is an affirmation.  When we say amen we say, “God, you have heard me.  I believe you.  I believe you have heard me and I am trusting you.  As I have prayed, let it be done.”  When we say amen, we are saying that we do not doubt God.

The thought crosses my mind that if I contemplated more on the meaning of amen, perhaps I would be less fearful.  Perhaps I would not worry and I would know that when I ask of God, that He has indeed heard me.  Perhaps my faith would be stronger.  I have come to a painful realization that perhaps all the prayers which I uttered without saying Amen as an affirmation were prayers that I did not trust to God; empty, hollow, utterances made as part of a Christian to do list.  Suddenly I must ask:  I have often praised God with my prayers, but have I affirmed my prayer?  Are my prayers ramblings spoken within four walls (or whatever environment I happen to be in), and God my dumping ground?  Do I know God and seek Him, or do I live a life of one-sided me-ness, enjoying the label of Christian but unwilling to walk by faith?

God knows all, sees all, and hears all.  I know He has heard my prayer.  But has He liked what He has heard?  Does he know the hollowness of my words?

I had never evaluated the way I pray, until reading in 2nd Corinthians.  Paul writes, “For the Son of God, Jesus Christ, whom we proclaimed among you, Silvanus and Timothy and I, was not Yes and No, but in him it is always Yes.  for all the promises of God find their Yes in Him.  That is why it is through him that we utter our Amen to God for his glory.” (2nd Corinthians 1:19-20)  This verse struck me in my heart, resonating as never before.

If you have not known the meaning of Amen, I hope this blesses your life.  I find much encouragement and power by saying it, because it reminds me of whom I pray to, that I am affirming Jehovah as God, and that He will be glorified in my prayer; however, I wish to stress that most importantly when we pray, it is the state of our hearts.  Some of us never need to know the meaning of ‘Amen’ to feel firm in our faith, and I am not stating that Amen is the secret key to a great prayer life.  I do believe, though, that it is important to God whether we have faith in Him to hear and act upon our prayers.

Of Knells and Other Inward Sounds

knell
1. the sound made by a bell rung slowly, esp. for a death or a funeral.
2. a sound or sign announcing the death of a person or the end, extinction, failure, etc., of something: the knell of parting day.
3. any mournful sound.
–verb (used without object)
4. to sound, as a bell, esp. a funeral bell.
5. to give forth a mournful, ominous, or warning sound

There it is. I am sitting in my pew and a thousand things are running through my mind. I am trying to concentrate on the words of the pastor with great difficulty. This morning did not begin the way I wished. I awoke with so many burdens and so many stresses. I have to speak to my father’s parole officer. I have financial aid worries about college. Payroll is low at work.  For some reason I just feel angry.  In the middle of my pity party caused by minor suggestions made to me that morning, I am feeling a little bitter, a little frustrated, and a little confused, to the point that I wonder why I am sitting in church.   We sing worship songs, but my heart is hard as a rock. This, too, makes me angry. I want to sing, but there is no worship in my heart.  To sing would be fake.  It would also be an injustice.

There it is again. Do you hear it? It’s almost as a bell, yes…that is it. A mournful, slow two-step, yes, so painfully slow as if time has stopped. A death knell. The breath of sin on my neck causes the hair on my arms to rise, and my neck to prickle. This, too, is in tempo with the eerie toll.

For one of the first times, I begin to understand a passage I have frequently neglected, but that I had read earlier this week:

“In the course of time Cain brought to the Lord an offering of the fruit of the ground, and Abel also brought of the firstborn of his flock and of their fat portions. And the Lord had regard for Abel and his offering, but for Cain and his offering he had no regard. So Cain was very angry, and his face fell. The Lord said to Cain, ‘Why are you angry, and why has your face fallen? If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door. Its desire is for you, but you must rule over it.’”

My thoughts turned to my life’s journey with God.

A leader whom I respect tremendously for his wisdom once said, “I am tired of vain things.” As a Christian, I have become consumed by vain things. Vain things are Things That Christians Do (Because We’re Christians). They range from Bible studies, to special barbecues, to rallies.  These things are in themselves bad, however, if these become demonstrations or reasons for your walk with Christ, then they serve no purpose. If all you get is, “Wow, Man, that totally changed my life! It was so filled with the Holy Spirit. He was really with us!” but there is no change, then it has all been in vain.

Analysis, theological and philosophical debates, bible studies, different ministries, these are all important. They are key to the growth and defense of our faith. Nevertheless, it is possible that we can have over a thousand bible studies which become our walk, and then have nothing while we are alone. We can smile in a crowd, but when the shadows overwhelm us and we find ourselves alone, will we turn to the cross?

There is a commercial Christianity that I feel pulling me into the mainstream Church. There are times that I wish that I had never come to know this kind of Christianity, the Christianity which is loud and vibrant, because I wonder how much of it is real. I wish that I could lock myself in isolation from all these  ”Plans On How To Read The Bible” and “study guides,” the products of self-help Christianity, for I realize that I have come to rely on study books and bible studies–tools and not the Ultimate Tool, the Holy Bible. I rely on corporate prayer to replace my own singular prayers.

And then, sitting in the pew, listening to the death knell within, listening to the hissing lizard at my shoulder, tears blurred my vision. My mind reeled back to so many instances of selfishness, of vanity. The drape was pulled from the portrait, and as Dorian Gray saw himself for what he really was, so I was revealed. The bell tolled again. A part of me fell away.

The decay of sin in my life is a malignant rot, a leprosy lurking in my heart, a toxin breaking down all that I love and cherish. And then I heard something else. A beautiful sound. Bright and crisp and clear, it sliced through dreadful mourning of the bells.

I wanted that sound. I chased after it. I sought it with all of my heart. The sound was the sound of reason, of love, of all good things–the music, the song of God. I knew that if I did not pursue that sound, I would be buried under the deafening emptiness that pervaded the sanctuary.

I have no idea why God did not accept Cain’s offering. But perhaps it begins with attitude.  Perhaps Cain was defensive, and he refused to be corrected. He refused rebuke, and took God’s rejection of his sacrifice personally. He hardened his heart, even when God warned him of the outcome. I do not think God was mean or stern in his warning, either. Perhaps it was even a plea. “Look, this attitude is evil! It is sinful, and it will conquer you! Your life will never be the same if you don’t change!” God said. As for my part, I know I must change. I know I must be sweeter, kinder, more patient. I know I must develop a stronger walk that is my walk, not the walk of an author or preacher, singer, or anyone else…not even the walk of my fiancee. I need a walk that is mine. I also know that my attitude needs to change. Instead of feeling sorry, I need to chase after God. I need to shed negativity.

So I did. I pushed all the self-pity aside and I sang. At first the song was strangled in my throat, but soon it came out loud and clear. I was able to worship freely. My heart was light, the creases in my forehead, less.

I urge you all to reject the mainstream, the commercial Christianity. I plead that you embrace God, even when your joy seems lost, and that even when you have to will yourself to seek Him, seek Him all the same. I exhort you to change your attitudes, to stop dwelling upon what people say to control your life, and to love God and people above all else; to love God above your self, and to love others as yourself. I urge you in the name of Christ Jesus, who died for our sins. I urge you on behalf of the Cross.

Finishing Well

Today I began my morning at 5:30. Yes, I know it sounds ambitious, especially after going to bed at 12:30 in the morning. The air was chilly and damp from the night’s rain. I laughed with Javan about memories we had from our first semester at Liberty.

Shortly afterwards, I cleaned my room, changed into workout clothes, and headed ff to the gym. I pay for it every year, so why not make the most of it? At the gym I ran the treadmill. I love the treadmill. I love to run. I’m not very fast, and my dedication to running is intermittent, but I never forget the freedom I have. I never forget how good it is to be able to move freely, to live, to breathe.

This morning I set the speed higher than usual. I was still going to run my usual two miles, yet at a different pace. The first mile went by pretty well. I finished it in just under thirteen minutes. The second mile, I increased the speed more, and finished in eleven minutes and eight seconds. All went well until I had finished half of the third lap. I became tired. And though I had been practicing breathing through my nose (it helps fill your lungs better) I was winded. I was tired. Even lifting my feet felt difficult. I kept running.

I began the fourth and final lap of the second mile. As soon as I saw the lap change from number three to number five, I felt I could not run the last lap. I was too tired. I would not–could not– survive it.

I kept running.

Okay. Let’s be honest here. I don’t look out of shape, but I’m certainly not in shape. I’m not a dedicated athlete, and I’m even less dedicated at getting physical exercise. Somehow I finished that mile.

But what about when it really counts? When you’re outside of the gym in this crazy race called life? Where is your dedication? How will you finish? Will you finish well?

Or better yet, the question is, will I finish well?

Yes, I know it’s not about doing. It’s about grace and things like that. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t try to be dedicated to God, that we can’t seek to please him, that we cna’t put away the old and put on the new. Yet so many times I find my dedication wane. Sometimes my bible reading is as faithful as my exercise routine. (What routine? you might ask).

I am thankful that God loves us as a father loves his children. I am thankful that God doesn’t look at me and say, “Oh no! Katie didn’t do her bible reading today–I guess I won’t guide her until she reads ten chapters a day to make up for it…” I am thankful that God will love me and guide me the same. But that still doesn’t mean I that I can’t finish well, that I can throw in the towel on the fourth lap.

Do you ever notice how you’re not really tired until you only have a little further to push? You’re not tired until the last lap, you’re not ready to quit until you cna see the finish line. God gives us a task, and when we’re near to completing His will, we give in. We let the Devil steal us away down a different road. We go to church and between the altar and the door, as Casting Crowns puts it, something happens.

This is what God is convicting me to do today. He is convicting me to try to push harder when even my breaths come in short gasps. He is convicting me to not give up, because He never gave up on me. I won’t be perfect. I’m bound to mess up. But th difference is whether I try or not. Whether I put up a fight against Satan, or I lay down and let his lies walk all over me. Which is more shameful–to fight and lose, or to lose, having never put up a fight at all? I write these things because ours is a journey that is different from the rest. The path is narrow and we all need encouragement. I know I need it.

The Virtuous Race

Someone once said that winning isn’t everything; it’s the only thing. Another person stated that there is no honor in second place; yet another man contended that the only thing to be valued about second place is that it tells you where you stand—just a bit below the person who took first place.
In politics, the erudite elite and the occasional ‘self-made’ man join to shape our country’s destiny. Our leaders are elected, not born, into politics and all too frequently we hear about one candidate’s sex scandal and another’s misappropriation of funds.  One party cheers while another party hangs its head in shame, only to shout in triumph as its rival accepts the next disgrace. What does this say of our ability to choose virtuous candidates? And if virtuous citizens (as many of us like to believe we are) elect virtuous candidates, then perhaps many of us are not so virtuous.

Therefore I must wonder, what would happen if we elected candidates on the basis of virtue? What would such a world look like? Of course, there would have to be a degree of relevance to the virtue. Simply rescuing a cat out of a tree would prove rather redundant to one’s presidential or even gubernatorial campaign. Donations to various organizations would also have to be redundant as well; such could be mistaken easily for a bribe. If candidates had to prove their virtue, perhaps we would look for courage. And if we Americans chose courage, for example, what sort of courage would we prize above the rest? For many would argue that there are different kinds of courage. Would we prize the courage in battle? Or the courage to do what is right? And what about the courage to stand up for one’s beliefs isn’t that too, important? But then, what if our beliefs are corrupted or fallible? Would we judge one another based a hierarchy of virtues, with certain virtues better than others, and if so, how can we be certain that our judgment of a certain virtue against other virtues is correct? Or rather, would we judge one another based on the sum of all virtues? Is it better to have a man in power that is a little more courageous than honest? Or a man a little more honest than he is courageous?
Picture a country easily divided for the single reason that certain virtues are esteemed more. That isn’t too hard to imagine, for we already occupy such a land. ‘Liberals’ value tolerance more than is safe, while ‘conservatives’ ignore social ills in their quest to stamp them out—and both are intolerant enough not to cooperate with one another.
Second place for a party means four long years that they have to strive against—not cooperate with—its successful opponents. What this means for Americans: more lobbying, more promises, and still more lobbying. We elect not on virtue, but on promise. Many times we are used by the same special interest groups which have advocated for us in past years. These groups seem to have lost concern for those they represent. These groups agitate our emotions to sway us, and we, the people, are no longer in control—not even of our own vote. We fall victim to Jacobean guile, and like Esau, we trade our birthright for a plate of food. Poetic justice is served: in our hunger for our own self-interests, we end up worse off than before. At least Esau had the sense to be irate; we do not even know the difference.
For the incoming party, second place means four long years to denounce all the evils of the previous party, and to ensure that its predecessor is utterly bereft of power. When this once-heralded party fails to produce a candidate, or through arrogance drives desperate Americans into the arms of the rival party, the former lies amid defeat and ruin. Outside of the new party of salvation, the drama queens and kings of pop culture rant and cast blame, hoping to relish in the failure of the victor.
Such is the American scene.
I, for one, certainly do not hope for the failure of the president. I do not hope for the failure of the governor, nor of the senators and house—both federal and state. There can be no salvation in either, or perhaps more properly, any party. The president is not supposed to represent me and my welfare, but rather, the welfare of the American people. If I hope for the president to fail, or any other member of government, solely for the advancement of my own party (and hence, my power), then I am a tyrant in the making, and I have no goodwill for my fellow citizens.
Even now, the famous words of Abraham Lincoln resound, much like a bell tolling, tolling, “A house divided cannot stand.” O, how long?
So, while the once powerful are ushered out to lick their wounds in private, and the newly elected are ushered in with laud, I keep in mind that this, too, shall repeat itself. It is both a warning and a solace, yes, that this is but a cycle; may we cherish the good dearly, and the bad, may God forbid it, may it be erased and undone with the next cycle. And yet, what is good and what is bad? While it is necessary, for order and reality’s sake, for justice to triumph, and good prevail, that there is an absolute standard of morality, our own perspectives of what is ‘good’ and ‘evil’ are often perverse, and at best follow selfish latitudes. Is it not so that we consider that which makes us happy as ‘good’ and that which disappoints us is ‘evil.’
We often hope to triumph not actually for the well-being of the whole, but for the part, whether pursuing good for own self or those who helped us to greatness. We hope to come in first not for the sake of the race and for all it signifies, but for the trophy which awaits us at the end—and that moment which is about us. Sometimes we cheat to win. Sometimes we take steroids, or we push the runner next to us. And yet, we believe we are qualified to elect officials, and are shocked when their actions mirror our own. Such a thought makes me think that while it is good to strive for first, our strivings must not push us to do that which is not good, that which is immoral and ill-gained. If we have run the race and after having given it our greatest, and still arrived in second place, let us accept second place graciously, and shake the hand of the runner ahead of us if even by an inch, as he is presented with his trophy.
If only we pause and think—life is not so much about the trophy as it is the way in which we run the race—perhaps we will have fuller, better lives, and a better government, too.

Thoughts About Brokenness

Brothers and sisters in Christ: I do not write to you seeking approval or greatness or commentary. I, perhaps the least of you all, write regarding brokenness, I who am not nearly humble enough! (O, if only I could be!)

Brokenness by dictionary definition, can cover a multitude of meanings, from the shattering, the fragmentation of physicality or an emotional state to weakness in spirit or health. We also “break” horses from their wild ways into gentle submission. As Christians, brokenness seems desirable. We sing about it in popular songs and pray for it in popular prayers and yet one must ask, what is the brokenness that we seek? Do we seek that for which we ask? Do we even know for what we ask?

Do we wish for the brokenness of Abraham as he asked mercy from God on Sodom and Gomorroh? The brokenness of Job through the testing he endured, all for the glory of God? Do we ask for the brokenness of David after Saul’s attempts to murder him, the incident with Bathsheba, or his son’s betrayal? Or yet, that of King Nebuchadnezzar, when God made him as the beasts of the field until he acknowledged who God was? Or do we know at all for what we ask? Are we in need of the shattering, the smashing of fabricated worlds and logics–or are we asking for a guarantee against the heart of stone? Do we convict ourselves, or wait upon the Faithful Spriit who resides in us all?

My first premise is this: that if we do not know for what we ask, yet we ask anyway, or ask all the time, can it not become devoid of meaning (that is, if it has not already become so), added to the list of Things Good Christians Say And Do Because They Are–swimming in redundancy? Where is partnership between the emotional euphoria of worship and the logic necessary to incline one towards true repentance? For without a healthy blend of the two, there can be no real meaning to our words. Too much emotion, and our words are nothing but a mere hype producing little change; too little, and there is no heart to change, and either way, we are as those about whom God warned the prophet, Ezekiel, a people who “say to one another, each to his brother, ‘Come and hear what the word is that comes from the Lord.’ And they come to you as a people come, and they sit before you as my people, and they hear what you say but will not do it; for with lustful talk in their mouths they act; their heart is set on their gain, and behold, you are to them as one who sings with a beautiful voice and plays well on an instrument; for they hear what you say but will not do it.” (Ezekiel 33:30-32) If such is the case, we become as the unfortunates who are “hearers of the word” rather than doers–looking at our faces in the mirror before walking away, and throughout the course of the day, forgetting our appearance.” (James 1:22-24)

In this redundancy–this lack of understanding or fully desiring–lies my second premise, that this redundancy becomes a pride. These empty words become an outward symbol, hollow in every way. How many of us have prayed, and afterwards thought, “Ooohh! That was good.”, painfully aware that others are listening? Our prayer is turned from seeking God to seeking man. If words that are intended good can be shifted to become a sort of pride, how much more words that are not meant? And in such a case, the petition for brokenness can be a facade at best, a competition at worst–a deceptively covered well into the spring of a deeper, darker pride. The deep pride is the pride of our undoing, for we look upon our pleas for brokenness pleasure, reflecting upon how we prayed and perhaps comparing ourselves, perhaps even trusting in it as some trust in their own righteousness. For how much different is this than when we beat our breast, wailing, “Of sinners I am chief!” and yet moments later look upon our neighbor, struggling with his own sin-burden, and rather than humbly thanking God for allowing us to overcome, we look upon the neighbor with haughty scorn and indignation? And yet God says, “Though I say to the righteous that he shall surely live, yet if he trusts in his righteousness, none of his righteous deeds will be remembered but in his injustice that he has done, he shall die.” (Ezekiel 33:13) Granted, we cannot lose our salvation; however, I firmly believe that such a mindset shall hinder our service to the Lord. If we trust in our “brokenness” will it not be forgotten, burnt up in the fire of testing, exposing our pride? And will that not be remembered in the day of judgement?

To avoid falling victim to Trickery and succumbing to either of the two premises, we must fully understand the nature of brokenness. Mind, I am no one that I should speak on brokenness, but perhaps that is why God has moved me thus to speak. I have no expertise in this area, nor does it come naturally to me, so I will summarizes some concepts from the bible. Brokenness is both rational and emotional, for reasons already discussed. Brokenness is sometimes mourning (Psalm 51, Ezekiel 16:62-63) ut it is also joy because it requires recognizing who God is, in all his attributes. God chastises us for our good (Proverbs 3:11-12) and yet he does not enjoy the destruction of the wicked or our punishment (Ezekiel 33:11), for we bend his hand for punishment (Isaiah 48:18-19). God is merciful (Jeremiah 3:12, Hosea 2:20-23). God is gracious and loving (Psalm 139:14-17, 145:16-21, Jeremiah 30:17, Ezekiel 16, Hosea 2:16, Luke 15:17-24, John 3:16). God is omnibenevolent, omnipresent, omniscient, and omnipotent. Brokenness is fearing the Lord and having an understanding of God’s role in the world, and consequently, our own as beings created by him. Brokenness is having a teachable spirit. Moreover, to be broken is perhaps not limited to any one moment,but rather, a lifestyle inasmuch as worship is a lifestyle. Brokenness is worship, and perhaps no truer, purer worship can ever be attained without this sort of brokenness. Brokenness is thanksgiving and praise. It is knowing, believing, and feeling these things–and yet I have barely scratched the surface. But how can I? Are not the wonderful, fearful, awesome attributes of God infinite? Is he not to a degree unsearchable and beyond understanding?

Some of us purposefully speak slowly or softly or put on mournful faces in an attempt to look more broken, murk sunk into humility, more chastised, and thus more spiritual. But let us not be deceived; this is merely pride in another vessel. Brokenness may come in moments where we are smashed like a clay pot by life’s storms, but why pray for such moments? Why desire pain or agony to bring us to our knees? Is it because we can be proud to say, “I desired brokenness at any cost?”–and again, this is pride and vanity, devoid of any real value. Or is it because we mistakenly believe that God delights in seeing us wounded like child that crushes play-do people? Do we believe that tragedy is the only way to healing? If so, I believe that there is something inherently wrong with our perception of God’s character.

Yes, tragedy may come. Tempests may assail us. Fires may scourge us. We may be broken, shattered, dashed to pieces in an instant. And yes, God promises to heal us, for he says, “Then the nations shall know that I am the Lord; I have rebuilt the ruined places and replanted that which was desolate. I am the Lord, I have spoken, and I will do it.” (Ezekiel 36:36) But rather than craving and praying for such things in abject morbidity, why do we not first seek to be lowly and humble? Why not live righteously? God’s punishment and “brokenness” (by which I mean shattering in a moment) at any cost, why do we not instead strive to achieve the beatitudes, to give God glory and daily affirm his rightful place in our lives, and our place in his ultimate plan? If we seek first to be humble will that not in the end be more pleasing to God? and if we humble ourselves, will it not save him–and us–the pain of him humbling us?

About Antigone Times

“And if this hurries me to death before my time, why, such a death is gain.”

Antigone, Act II

A lover of literature, I do not seek to  fuse Grecian paganism with Christianity.  I use the name Antigone because Antigone’s dilemma is that of a double bind, by which doing that which was right would lead to her undoing.  As Christians, we do face an amount of persecution, the assumption being that we are religious crazies, and being stereotyped, labeled.  The Cross compels us to walk by faith, and yet we are punished by this world.  Sometimes the persecution is small, such as stereotyping; sometimes, in other countries, we die for our beliefs.

Unlike Antigone, however, we do not worship impersonal gods, or gods who punish us for our talents, out of jealousy, no god who creates tragedy out of amusement or malice, but the God who became man, enduring the agony of the Cross, that we could be accepted into his household as beloved sons and daughters.

We die before our time; we die to our sins to experience birth into spiritual life, that when our flesh is gone, we walk with God.  Whether we live tomorrow or die tomorrow there is One whom we will wake to see.  Antigone’s death was for a noble cause, but our persecutions are  for yet a nobler cause–for sharing the love of Christ with the world.

This blog is about sharing struggles, about sharing prayers, and about sharing the truth about God and what it means to walk by faith, giving glory to His name.