I have a saying I use that goes "Agnostics are people that live like there's no God. Atheists are people who are mad at Him."
Anger at God is a method by which we attempt to manipulate our destiny. Shout loudly that there's no God, and maybe He'll reveal Himself to us. Shake our fist at God and call Him pitiless, and maybe He'll show mercy. Run away from God, and maybe He'll chase after me. The problem is that such an approach pretty much guarantees that we'll only further distance ourselves from Him. Why? Because God doesn't reward those who attempt to manipulate Him, but "rewards those who earnestly seek Him" (Heb. 11:6).
How often have we praised God when things are good, but hidden ourselves from Him when He's allowed trouble? Maybe we still go to church (even that's not always the case for many), but we use the difficult valley we're going through to justify our avoiding giving, serving, or worshipping like we would in times of blessing. At such moments what we're saying to God is "Bless me, and I'll be the person you want me to be; allow stuff like this, and I won't". But then... who's God in that relationship? God ceases to be God, and becomes one who is still greater than you in power, but not in position; one who can give us what we want (or choose not to), but not the One who is worthy of worship, obedience, and service "in any and every situation" (Phil. 4:12).
After losing four daughters in a terrible accident, Horatio Spaffard wrote these words: "When peace, like a river, attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll; whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say, It is well, it is well with my soul." While in our generation we rail against God if he allows a traffic jam when we're in a hurry.
If ever a culture could be labeled arrogant, immature, spoiled, and "entitled" -- it's ours. Anthony Robinson wrote "We have, it seems, grown fluent in the language of blame, complaint and grievance, while having lost our linguistic capacity when it comes to words such as, 'Please,' 'Thank you,' and 'I'm sorry'... In the end, it's the entitled who, however rich, are truly poor. Instead of knowing life as a gift, life turns into something that's taken for granted -- or worse, begrudged." How true. We simply expect good things as a matter of birthright, and when they seem scarce, we determine that we are then allowed to "punish" God, in whatever manner we beelieve will either convince Him to again dispense the blessings, or will sufficiently communicate our displeaure with His actions.
The problem of course is that in such an atmosphere, there is no room for humility. No place for nobility, valor, or self-control. There are times when God can shape up through His Word alone, through the conviction of the Holy Spirit, or even through the hard lessons of others. But there are also times He cannot. When we get to the place where we oversee the molding process, and what circumstances are "allowable", we have taken God off the throne of our lives.
Chew thouroughly before swallowing...
Dave
Friday, October 2, 2009
Friday, September 4, 2009
I have found that we charismatics have a strange and peculiar cycle we engage in. We say things like “God told me to do this”, or “God’s o.k. with this”, engage in the action, discover it wasn’t God’s will, suffer for it, yet have no doubt the next time we feel “led” to say “This time it really IS God speaking!”, How do I know this? Because frequently, someone who told me that God told them to do such and such, or that they “had a peace about it”, will later approach me and admit they were incorrect. It wasn’t God; they had simply dressed up their own desires in “God clothes”, which obviously will never produce the same results.
Two big problems here: First, you said “Thus saith the Lord” when the Lord had not saithed! At the very least you declared (either verbally or by your actions) that God was “cool” with something He certainly wasn’t! Second, you called either the devil or yourself God, because those are the only other options for the source of the deception.
Not every conversation you have with your conscience is a conversation with God. Your conscience may be a gift from God, but like every other gift, it can be contaminated. God’s word to the people of Israel in Haggai 2 dealt with that very thing – when the pure touches the impure, it doesn’t purify it, but the impure sure can contaminate the pure! If I cheated on my wife, that mistress wouldn’t become pure because she was having an affair with a pastor! Or if I started doing cocaine, the dealer wouldn’t become a saint because I was. Jesus taught Peter that he needed to let Him wash his feet. Why? Because (as Jesus said) “He who has bathed needs only to wash his feet”. It is your feet that touch the earth, and Jesus was telling us that as we walk through the contamination of this world, its residue will cling to us, and we need Him to continually cleanse us of that.
The next time you’re tempted to say “The Lord told me”, check to see how clear the channel is between you and Him. Is there any “dirt” that’s contaminating, or blocking off the pipeline? Pride, selfishness, and lust can all seem so right when that channel isn’t flowing as it should. Ask Christians who have thrown away marriages for “forbidden fruit”; pastors who have lost ministries for a moment or season pf pleasure... They will almost universally tell you that at the moment of their failure, what they were doing seemed to make perfect sense. “How could I be so stupid” is the general response after they “have come to their senses” (Luke 15:17).
My rule of thumb is that when “God” tells me to do something I already want to do, I take greater care in confirming it really is His voice speaking. It’s better to “consider the cost”, than to pay the price.
Maranatha!
Dave
Two big problems here: First, you said “Thus saith the Lord” when the Lord had not saithed! At the very least you declared (either verbally or by your actions) that God was “cool” with something He certainly wasn’t! Second, you called either the devil or yourself God, because those are the only other options for the source of the deception.
Not every conversation you have with your conscience is a conversation with God. Your conscience may be a gift from God, but like every other gift, it can be contaminated. God’s word to the people of Israel in Haggai 2 dealt with that very thing – when the pure touches the impure, it doesn’t purify it, but the impure sure can contaminate the pure! If I cheated on my wife, that mistress wouldn’t become pure because she was having an affair with a pastor! Or if I started doing cocaine, the dealer wouldn’t become a saint because I was. Jesus taught Peter that he needed to let Him wash his feet. Why? Because (as Jesus said) “He who has bathed needs only to wash his feet”. It is your feet that touch the earth, and Jesus was telling us that as we walk through the contamination of this world, its residue will cling to us, and we need Him to continually cleanse us of that.
The next time you’re tempted to say “The Lord told me”, check to see how clear the channel is between you and Him. Is there any “dirt” that’s contaminating, or blocking off the pipeline? Pride, selfishness, and lust can all seem so right when that channel isn’t flowing as it should. Ask Christians who have thrown away marriages for “forbidden fruit”; pastors who have lost ministries for a moment or season pf pleasure... They will almost universally tell you that at the moment of their failure, what they were doing seemed to make perfect sense. “How could I be so stupid” is the general response after they “have come to their senses” (Luke 15:17).
My rule of thumb is that when “God” tells me to do something I already want to do, I take greater care in confirming it really is His voice speaking. It’s better to “consider the cost”, than to pay the price.
Maranatha!
Dave
Sunday, August 23, 2009
O.k., so here I am in the midst of a grown up version of “He started it”. Defending myself to the One who IS my defense. Justifying my own indignation (as if being right is what’s important). Then God speaks.
Starting a quarrel is like breaching a dam; so drop the matter before a dispute breaks out. – Prov. 17:14
A man’s wisdom makes him slow to anger, and it is his glory to overlook an offense. – Prov. 19: 11
It is to a man’s honor to avoid strife, but every fool is quick to quarrel. – Prov. 20:3
It occurs to me that God never said "drop it", "overlook it", or "avoid it... unless you think you're right". Because we almost always do. It doesn't matter if I'm right. I've read these words many times, and I didn't heed them. I didn't listen to God, so no matter how right I feel, I'm wrong.
Being right isn’t what I want anymore. Being righteous is.
Starting a quarrel is like breaching a dam; so drop the matter before a dispute breaks out. – Prov. 17:14
A man’s wisdom makes him slow to anger, and it is his glory to overlook an offense. – Prov. 19: 11
It is to a man’s honor to avoid strife, but every fool is quick to quarrel. – Prov. 20:3
It occurs to me that God never said "drop it", "overlook it", or "avoid it... unless you think you're right". Because we almost always do. It doesn't matter if I'm right. I've read these words many times, and I didn't heed them. I didn't listen to God, so no matter how right I feel, I'm wrong.
Being right isn’t what I want anymore. Being righteous is.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
It's been awhile... busy summer. One daughter graduated high school, took an anniversary trip with my bride of 20 years, went on a family vacation, released a CD with Desire, and have had my hand in too many projects to mention... but I'm still here!
There's an Andrew Peterson song that I love called "Nothing to Say". The lyrics read "And the mountains sing your glory, hallelujah. The canyons echo sweet amazing grace. My spirit sails, the mighty gales are bellowing Your name. And I've got nothin' to say."
Sometimes I feel like that... that anything I could write, or speak about God, would pale in comparison to the great witness He has already placed all around us. I've stood on ships and looked at seas so vast that you're surrounded by ocean for hudreds of miles in every direction; stood on the edge of the Grand Canyon and known simultaneously that while I had to photograph it, any picture I took would seem absurd next to my memory of what I was seeing. Tried to take in the beauty of the Alps and was only able to do so in snippets -- piece by amazing piece. Yet everytime I've come back from a trip I've found myself unable to NOT attempt to describe what I saw. There's just something in us that needs to try and capture and communicate great moments, even when we know that our camera phones, and video or digital cameras, can only jog our memories of them. The essence of the moment -- its smell, feel, atmosphere -- is far beyond the ability of our technology to capture. We can only share so much, and then it's (as we're fond of saying), "I guess you had to be there".
Likewise I've had moments in the presence of the Lord that I knew would defy description, yet I was compelled to share them. My vocabulary and understanding was completely inadequate to communicate the essence of that moment, yet I couldn't help but speak of it. Some would say "Why say anything? You'll never be able to communicate the depth of what God has done for you. There's no way to paint a picture of what Jesus endured on the cross for someone who does not know Him. There's no description of Heaven that will not make us laugh when we think back on it from that vantage point." That's true... but speak we must. You see, it's not our vocabulary, or technology, or anything else we possess that communicates Christ -- it's the Father who draws by His Spirit (John 6:44), and He's up to something when He calls us to open our mouths for Him.
It's humbling to realize that the God who spoke the oceans, and the mountains, and the Grand Canyon into existence; the God who can communicate and reveal Himself so profoundly that He leaves the greatest songwriters and poets struggling for words -- that this God would choose you and I to communicate His most important truth. I wish I had the ability to create a Grand Canyon as a demonstration of the beauty of the Lord; an Alpine mountain as a sermon illustration to declare His majesty -- or a vast ocean to communicate His might to someone who needs strength. But all of those have been done, yet still the world disbelieves. Instead, God does His greatest work through you and I -- the redemption of the world, one life at a time, and tells us to share it with those who have not yet experienced it.
You know what I've found? That talking about the Grand Canyon to people doesn't make them comprehend it; that speaking of the beauty of the ocean isn't the same as being on a cruise in the middle of it, and that showing pictures of the Swiss Alps doesn't make people feel like they've been there. But it just might make them hungry to experience those things.
Think about it... you'll get it.
Dave
There's an Andrew Peterson song that I love called "Nothing to Say". The lyrics read "And the mountains sing your glory, hallelujah. The canyons echo sweet amazing grace. My spirit sails, the mighty gales are bellowing Your name. And I've got nothin' to say."
Sometimes I feel like that... that anything I could write, or speak about God, would pale in comparison to the great witness He has already placed all around us. I've stood on ships and looked at seas so vast that you're surrounded by ocean for hudreds of miles in every direction; stood on the edge of the Grand Canyon and known simultaneously that while I had to photograph it, any picture I took would seem absurd next to my memory of what I was seeing. Tried to take in the beauty of the Alps and was only able to do so in snippets -- piece by amazing piece. Yet everytime I've come back from a trip I've found myself unable to NOT attempt to describe what I saw. There's just something in us that needs to try and capture and communicate great moments, even when we know that our camera phones, and video or digital cameras, can only jog our memories of them. The essence of the moment -- its smell, feel, atmosphere -- is far beyond the ability of our technology to capture. We can only share so much, and then it's (as we're fond of saying), "I guess you had to be there".
Likewise I've had moments in the presence of the Lord that I knew would defy description, yet I was compelled to share them. My vocabulary and understanding was completely inadequate to communicate the essence of that moment, yet I couldn't help but speak of it. Some would say "Why say anything? You'll never be able to communicate the depth of what God has done for you. There's no way to paint a picture of what Jesus endured on the cross for someone who does not know Him. There's no description of Heaven that will not make us laugh when we think back on it from that vantage point." That's true... but speak we must. You see, it's not our vocabulary, or technology, or anything else we possess that communicates Christ -- it's the Father who draws by His Spirit (John 6:44), and He's up to something when He calls us to open our mouths for Him.
It's humbling to realize that the God who spoke the oceans, and the mountains, and the Grand Canyon into existence; the God who can communicate and reveal Himself so profoundly that He leaves the greatest songwriters and poets struggling for words -- that this God would choose you and I to communicate His most important truth. I wish I had the ability to create a Grand Canyon as a demonstration of the beauty of the Lord; an Alpine mountain as a sermon illustration to declare His majesty -- or a vast ocean to communicate His might to someone who needs strength. But all of those have been done, yet still the world disbelieves. Instead, God does His greatest work through you and I -- the redemption of the world, one life at a time, and tells us to share it with those who have not yet experienced it.
You know what I've found? That talking about the Grand Canyon to people doesn't make them comprehend it; that speaking of the beauty of the ocean isn't the same as being on a cruise in the middle of it, and that showing pictures of the Swiss Alps doesn't make people feel like they've been there. But it just might make them hungry to experience those things.
Think about it... you'll get it.
Dave
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
