Today I was reading my bible and I felt the impulse to look up Ezekiel 3:9. That happens to me a lot: random bible references pop into my head. Sometimes, the verse is obscure or even silly. Other times, the reference doesn't exist! Today though, it was profound.
"I will make your forehead like the hardest stone, harder than flint. Do not be afraid of them of terrified by them, though they are a rebellious house."
Ezekiel was being sent as a prophet to Israel in exile. A stubborn and rebellious group, God promises Ezekiel that they won't heed his message. But He also promises to give Ezekiel a thick skin and stubbornness to match.
For weeks I've been asking God to remove this gnawing fear of people, to burn it out of me. Particularly toxic to me is the approval or rejection of respected Christian leaders. Their approval strokes my ego and their rejection darn-near crushes me.
It's always been that way. Since I decided to follow Jesus at age 16, the personal attention and approval of key Christian mentors has steered me down a path to become the person they will approve of: a visionary leader with impressive personal charisma. Is that really me or do I just play the part? Right now, I think the answer is yes and yes.
The problem is that through my personal relationship with God, I've developed some skepticism towards many churches and the folks that shepherd them. In part, I feel I also have a prophetic calling to a rebellious house: the Church. A beautiful bride stubbornly prostituting herself to Security, Comfort, and Success. I feel like I'm supposed to call the church to higher integrity and deeper discipleship. But that means challenging the leaders I idolize. It's a conflict of interests. Do what's right, invite rejection, lose self-esteem.
I feel I need to experience His sufficiency to meet the needs once met by people. Or at least I need to be so terrified by His holiness that fear of man pales in comparison! I feel like today's verse is a promise to me: that one way or another, God will strengthen my resolve, wean me from the ego-strokes of people, and instill a stubbornness about the truth; a thick skin and a firm resolve. Yes please.
This weekend, I'm going to a
10.31.2011
10.19.2011
Remembering 101 for Amnesiacs
I've been reading the Psalms lately and I'm dumfounded by the role that remembering plays in the worship-lives of the authors. They were still praising God for things he did a zillion years prior.
"You, O God are my king from old... It was you who split open the sea... It was you who opened up the springs... Your path led through the sea... You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron... [You] guided them with a cloud by day and with light from the fire all night."
Remembering is key to faithfulness: knowing that what's before me NOW doesn't necessarily define what's real. Remembering brings stability and sobriety to the way we process our present experiences. I can remember what God has done in my life and realize how subjective my perception is.
For a long time, I wanted to be a spiritual rogue: someone who figures everything out by himself and doesn't need help from anyone. Nowadays, I find tremendous comfort in knowing that the spiritual journey I'm on is one walked by countless others before me. I used to hate Christian history because of all the abuse that church history has recorded. But now I love it because I realize that even in medieval, byzantine, or renaissance cultures, God genuinely reveals Himself to humble hearts and works powerfully on their behalf. History recorded the abuse, but that's no surprise. Newspapers love Fred Phelps, but no headline will read, "Grandma Still Godly after 90 Years." So, I've made a choice to walk away from faddish buffet-style spirituality. I'm choosing to remember who God is and how He's shown Himself to countless generations.
Has God worked in your life? Have you glimpsed His love and power? How about your parents or grandparents? When was the last time we praised God with elation for the Welsh Revival, The Great Awakening, Irish Monasticism, or the early Catholic missions movement? That's tough, when I can hardly remember what He did in my life last year. When I consider His faithfulness in my life alone, I have no reason to doubt his presence and power and love through my life and the scheme of human history. But I forget easily. The psalmists seemed to understand our propensity toward amnesia. That's why in the midst of authenticity about pain, and doubt, and confusion, the mantra of those old worship songs seems to be, "Remember. Recite. Repeat."
"You, O God are my king from old... It was you who split open the sea... It was you who opened up the springs... Your path led through the sea... You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron... [You] guided them with a cloud by day and with light from the fire all night."
Remembering is key to faithfulness: knowing that what's before me NOW doesn't necessarily define what's real. Remembering brings stability and sobriety to the way we process our present experiences. I can remember what God has done in my life and realize how subjective my perception is.
For a long time, I wanted to be a spiritual rogue: someone who figures everything out by himself and doesn't need help from anyone. Nowadays, I find tremendous comfort in knowing that the spiritual journey I'm on is one walked by countless others before me. I used to hate Christian history because of all the abuse that church history has recorded. But now I love it because I realize that even in medieval, byzantine, or renaissance cultures, God genuinely reveals Himself to humble hearts and works powerfully on their behalf. History recorded the abuse, but that's no surprise. Newspapers love Fred Phelps, but no headline will read, "Grandma Still Godly after 90 Years." So, I've made a choice to walk away from faddish buffet-style spirituality. I'm choosing to remember who God is and how He's shown Himself to countless generations.
Has God worked in your life? Have you glimpsed His love and power? How about your parents or grandparents? When was the last time we praised God with elation for the Welsh Revival, The Great Awakening, Irish Monasticism, or the early Catholic missions movement? That's tough, when I can hardly remember what He did in my life last year. When I consider His faithfulness in my life alone, I have no reason to doubt his presence and power and love through my life and the scheme of human history. But I forget easily. The psalmists seemed to understand our propensity toward amnesia. That's why in the midst of authenticity about pain, and doubt, and confusion, the mantra of those old worship songs seems to be, "Remember. Recite. Repeat."
10.17.2011
Be a rushing river.
I’ve had a running deal with God that whenever I wake up each morning, I’ll stay up and spend the time with him. It’s tempting to go back to sleep, to horde as much rest as possible. But the idea of a loving heavenly Father waking me up to come soak in His love has taken on an alluring sweetness.
So we’re back in Minnesota after 5 weeks on the road. And
I’m back on the porch each morning, reveling in the sweetness of His Presence.
It’s 30 degrees cooler, but He’s still meeting me, speaking to me, showing His
affection.
As I thought about the constant in-pouring of God’s
presence, I heard Him say to me, “You have no reason to horde.” I thought about
the way I’ve often withheld my love, and time, and energy from my family,
fearing that I would somehow “run out” of resources. I’ve defended my
relational boundaries tenatiously because I don’t trust people to care for me.
I’ve horded sleep, and energy, and food, and time, and personal space because
sometimes I’m scared that there won’t be enough to go around.
The difference is between a rushing river and a stagnant
pond. One works hard to protect what it has. It doesn’t gain and it doesn’t
lose. It attracts some interesting life forms and starts to smell after awhile.
A river is constantly pouring out because it is constantly receiving. It’s a
conduit rather than a cesspool. And because it is built on a hill, it doesn’t
have much of a choice. If there is
no water, it runs dry.
It’s easy to be a river in the spring when water is always
available. But the constant challenge of my life is to trust God enough that
when His presence seems to run dry, I can keep pouring out, keep loving, and remember
the smell of rain and the sound of fast water.
10 Then I thought, “To this I will appeal:
the years when the Most High stretched out his right hand.
11 I will remember the deeds of the LORD;
yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago.
12 I will consider all your works
and meditate on all your mighty deeds.”
the years when the Most High stretched out his right hand.
11 I will remember the deeds of the LORD;
yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago.
12 I will consider all your works
and meditate on all your mighty deeds.”
(Ps. 74:10-12)
