I don’t know where you are in your walk with God, but I hope
that this can help, regardless of whatever “chair”
you may be in.
* I put “chair” in quotes as if to use it loosely or
sarcastically; to (attempt to) quantify the spiritual life as only fitting in 3
stages is to think analytically, not poetically (more on that later).
When I became a Christian, there was a profound change in my
heart, and one of the things that I set out to do was to be eternally available
to anyone who needed my help for any reason.
Basically, I set out to be the nicest guy someone could
meet.
But that’s not what Jesus is about.
I mean, he came to send swords, for crying out loud (Matthew
10:34).
And he set out to accomplish much more than that in his time
here on Earth. He came to fulfill the law
and restore what was lost (Matthew
5:17, Luke 19:10).
What a lot of people don’t understand, however, is that the
“fulfilling of the law” is not accomplished in following rules, but inside of your
heart.
When Jesus stepped on the scene, the Pharisees – the
religious leaders – were teaching people left and right that in order to
accomplish one’s salvation – that the whole point of their religion – was to do these things and not do those things.
Pathetic.
Jesus comes and, in the Sermon on the Mount, lays out the
profound depth of the intent of the
law:
It’s not just committing adultery if you sleep
with someone, but looking at them with lust (Matthew 5:27-28).
Killing is not just taking a life, but hatred
without cause (Matthew 5:21-22).
“Loving your neighbor” is not just those you get
along with, but even those who hate your guts (Matthew 5:43-44).
It’s so easy to get sucked in to rule-keeping and following
a list of do’s and don’ts.
This is what almost happened to me as a young believer in
college.
Then something happened that changed my life just as much –
if not more – than when I became a Christian, and that had to do with how I viewed my faith.
In the summer of 2003, I read a book that irreversibly
impacted me. That book was Wild at Heart
by John Eldredge.
What I realized is that a lot of what the church tries to do
is get guys to do the right thing.
And it bores us to death.
Don’t get me wrong, because doing the right thing is good.
But doing the right
thing only because it’s the right
thing goes back to the rule-keeping that Jesus came to free us from.
Religious people are especially bad at missing this
distinction, because Christianity is So. Much. More. than a list of do’s and
don’ts.
I mean, for crying out loud, we have the opportunity to know
the Man who created the world and everything in it – Jesus!
But alas, there is another terrible misconception regarding
our “relationship” with him.
Most people focus on the aspect of Jesus being “Lord.”
Person pet peeve: I hate when people refer to the Father or
Son as “the Lord.” It just seems so impersonal...
No offense if you do this lol.
But anyway, although this is true, at the same time, it’s
not.
This is the difference between the poetic and the
analytical.
For hundreds of years, cultures knew the value of the poetic
and spoke in terms that the heart could understand, but this has been lost in
the last few hundred years with the Enlightenment and the Modern Era, with
their emphasis on knowledge, pragmatism, and seeing religion as a functional means
to enact change instead of a path to lead people to their Creator.
Let me explain:
The analytica deals in terms of breaking things down to get
a good look at their parts – looking at the tress, but not seeing the forest. You
could say that they miss the big
picture because of this...
When asked what a kiss entails, someone dealing in the
analytical would say that, technically, it’s two sets of the fleshy parts
forming the margins of the mouth pressing together for a duration of time, with
the possible exchange of digestive fluid and the touching of the tasting
organs.
Now, technically,
that’s correct.
But it strips the life
out of the thing it just analyzed.
Solomon – who was the wisest man who ever lived (1 Kings
3:12) – put it much better when he described the woman he was in love with and
what it was like to kiss her:
“Your lips are as sweet as nectar, my bride;
Milk and honey are
under your tongue.”
(Song 4:11)
So much of the church deals in the analytical that we have
forgotten how to speak to what really moves us: the poetic language of the heart.
Jesus does this with those he relates to:
As the disciples walking down the Emmaus road told of their experience
with him, their hearts burned within them
as he expounded on the prophecies about himself.
Freaking prophecies!
Academic information can be dry to say the least; I had to read a purely academic book during my senior year in college, and I trudged my way through another one just after college.
But when Jesus spoke about prophecies with these 2 men, their hearts burned because of
the One who spoke to them – even though he was veiled and they didn’t recognize
who he truly was (Luke 24:15, 27, 30-32).
This is because the words of the true Jesus are empowered by
“spirit and life” (John 6:63, 68).
You could almost extend that and say that anytime your heart
burns when someone is speaking to you (or as you are reading something), that it’s
Jesus speaking through them – even if
you don’t recognize him...
The whole point that I’m trying to get at here is that there is more.
There is more to Christianity and this whole “God” thing than
what most of the church teaches.
Let’s go back to the relationship piece and take a look at
how the church misses the point.
It’s been said that “Christianity is a relationship, not a
religion.”
Which, technically,
is true.
But there are different ways that we relate to God within
different seasons of our life, part of which depends on the condition of our
hearts.
The lower levels consist of relating as:
Clay to a Potter (Jeremiah 18:6)
Sheep to a Shepherd (John 10:11)
Vines to a Branch (John 15:5)
Slaves to a Master (Matthew 25:21)
But Jesus never said, “I came to give you more to do.”
It was, “I came to give them life, and that they might have it abundantly” (paraphrased from John 10:10b).
When Jesus offers
that life to people, they beg him for it (John 4:15, 6:34).
People ripped the roofs
off of houses to get to Jesus (Mark 2:1-4).
If we knew what was
really available, we’d sell everything we have to get it (Matthew 13:44) – and
it would be worth it a hundred times over (Mark 10:29-30).
Jesus also said that “you shall know them by their fruits” (Matthew
7:16), and that there is a thief who comes to steal, kill, and destroy (John
10:10a).
So if something about our “Christian” religion doesn’t bring
abundant life, then it’s not the way that Jesus would have us live.
If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, then it’s a duck.
If there’s one thing that I’ve realized (at least on a
head-level; my heart is still absorbing it), it’s that our relationships are the most important thing about us.
How we relate to others is the greatest determining factor of
our spiritual maturity – even more-so than spiritual gifts (1 Corinthians
13:1-3).
The last 3 levels of our relationship with God deal with
precisely that – a living, breathing relationship
where there is intimacy and the bond of closeness that supersedes the
give-and-take of reaping and sowing, or blessing and cursing – that tit-for-tat
scorekeeping that people who are in a business relationship maintain because
they are in it primarily for what they can get out of it.
But God is not a spiritual vending machine; if you ask for
it with the wrong motives, he won’t give it to you (James 4:1-3).
Did the workers who were hired at Happy Hour (5pm) receive
the wages properly due to them (Matthew 20:6-9)?
No, because his grace was sufficient for them (2
Corinthians 12:9).
Those who are concerned with accomplishing much in this
world for God sometimes forget that the most important thing is to simply know him (Jeremiah 9:23-24, Matthew
7:21-23, John 17:3).
Sometimes he tells them, “Today, I’m all you get.” (John
6:28-29)
As Thomas
Keating put it, “We should relate less and less in terms of reward and
punishment, and more and more on the basis of the gratuity – or the play – of divine love.”
Friends who know each other deeply aren’t concerned with score-keeping...
Why not?
Because the value of
the relationship supersedes any material things that have been exchanged
between them.
This is where the value of the upper levels of our
relationship with God come from:
Children relating to a Father (John 1:12)
Friends relating to friends (John 15:15)
A wife relating to her Husband (Ephesians
5:25-27, 31-32)
What really struck me about the book that I read – Wild at
Heart – is that there is a profound importance on the father-son (or
father-daughter) relationship.
I don’t know what kind of relationship you have with your
earthly father, but there is a relationship that is even more important than that one, and it’s that of your Father
in heaven who desires to mentor you in order to raise you up to be your own man (or woman) of God after the
desires he specifically set in your
heart.
A lot of church people interpret Proverbs 22:6 –
Train up a child in
the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not depart from it.
But that goes back to the “slave” mentality and doesn’t take
into account all the nuances and eccentricities that make each boy and girl
unique.
No, our heavenly Father knows that there are desires uniquely
placed in our heart and he encourages us – dares us, even! – to follow them, for
if you don’t, you deny inviting him into the very places in your heart that
make you the most unique, as well as
the opportunities for him to open up paths in your life that you would’ve never thought possible – unless he was
intimately involved in the process the whole way through.
If there is one thing I despise, it’s asexual religion: a belief system that fails – or refuses – to
acknowledge the differences in men and women, and to tailor their experiences
accordingly.
The yoke of asexual religion is a cruel one to bear, for it
does not acknowledge us at the most fundamental level of how God created us –
as men and women (Genesis 1:27).
Okay, so now I’m almost (an unbelievable) 1,900 words into this and
I’ve come to a point of wrapping it up.
Basically, there is more to Christianity than what most of
the church teaches. I’m not saying that what they teach is bad or false, but
like I mentioned earlier, there is a way of speaking of things that are true
that make them untrue (“fleshy borders of the mouth” versus “milk and honey are
under her tongue”)...
I once heard a good man ask, “How would Jesus address ____
in a way that would bring life
instead of just rightness?”
That, my friend, is an open-ended question, the answer to
which is dependent on the given topic.
There are ways to talk about things that make them untrue –
or, for that matter, unattractive or repulsive.
Our hearts seek truth
and life, and I hope that you have
found a little bit of each in these words – and that you find a lot more in the
relationship with your heavenly Father that I hope this has encouraged you to
pursue.
I hope you read your bible with a hungry heart, that you
devour it as I did, and that it irrevocably
changes you for the better – as God intended, from the inside, out.
Either way, I would enjoy the opportunity to discuss
anything you’ve read in here, whether you love it or hate it – and no judgment
on my part either way.
Most
people who go to church either categorize themselves as Catholic or Protestant
-- or a Protestant (non)-denomination.
For
me, when I became a follower of Christ in college, the only experience I really
had was when my family had gone to an Assembly of God church when I was in
ninth grade. So I pretty much became a Protestant by default.
My
steadfast Protestantism grew as I learned things about Catholicism that I didn’t
agree with, such as Scripture and
tradition being sufficient for spiritual authority (see Mark 7:8), or transubstantiation.
As I grew
in my knowledge about different beliefs within Protestantism, I identified
myself more particularly: at first it was Assembly of God, then
non-denominational, then Adventist. At the moment, I currently go to a Foursquare
church (even though I hold to certain beliefs that conflict with the official doctrines of that denomination).
But I no
longer identify myself by any of these labels.
I’ve
known for a while that I’m a spiritual “mutt” -- my particular belief system is
a hodgepodge of several schools of thought (the strongest one -- and the only
one I truly identify myself as being as evidenced by the title of my blog -- is
Ransomed Heart).
Then --
through one of the members of Ransomed Heart -- I learned about a book on
contemplative spirituality called Open Mind, Open Heart.
Contemplative
spirituality is something I’ve kinda identified myself with since taking the You’ve Got Style quiz
from North Point Community Church. Based on the quiz -- which is derived from
the book Sacred
Pathways -- contemplatives “draw near to God through personal adoration and
heartfelt devotion” (I also scored high on “ascetic” and “intellectual,” if you
really want to know).
So I was
curious to learn more about what it meant to really be contemplative --
especially since other contemplative-ish sources (such as Dan Millman’s book, Way
of the Peaceful Warrior) were also life-changing to me.
But I was
also hesitant.
You see,
the book is written by Thomas Keating, a Cistercian monk of St. Benedict’s
Monastery.
Catholic.
But
the book was recommended from someone that has helped shape how I view the
world (in a positive way), and so I went ahead and read it.
*Insert
breath of fresh air.*
This
was, at the time, the only Catholic book that I had. There were a couple Catholic
references in it that I disregarded (“eat the meat and throw away the bones,”
as the saying goes), but on the whole, the book resonated with me profoundly.
I recall
one time going rock climbing with a friend and his kids, which involved driving
down by the river,* then walking along a trail in order to get to the (outdoor)
wall. Part of me was freaking out about being away from “civilization” unexpectedly:
no computers, no bathrooms, etc. (This is different when you go camping since
you plan the trip out; this particular excursion caught me off-guard.)
* No,
we didn’t go in a van, and no, he didn’t have any government cheese.
Once I
was out there, however, it was great and a welcome escape from the technology-infused
environment I so often find myself in.
Of
course, the concept of the physical realm being important to masculinity intrigued me, and while I was looking at Shop Class as Soul Craft on Amazon, I saw
that it was “paired” with a similar book called Zen
and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.
Consequently,
both went on my Amazon Wish List.
So when
I’m in Barnes & Noble last week, imagine my elation when I see Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance
on one of the tables!
But Jesus
is cunning and promptly pulled a bait-and-switch on me, because I then noticed
the book next to it, which was The
Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything.
Jesuits
are Catholic, so they have been somewhat off-limits for me, but they also have
a reputation for being intellectually fierce (remember, one of my “pathways” is
intellectual). As Pat Conroy tells of
his experience at a Jesuit high school, Gonzaga, in My Losing
Season,
Throughout
my nun-spooked, Catholic school life, I had heard and digested the urban legend
of the Jesuits, the rottweilers of a Catholic boy’s education. The order had a
reputation for intellectual ferocity... They were a warrior caste of the
intellect, famous for the rigor of both their training and their teaching.
Founded by St. Ingatius Loyola as militant advocates of the Pope, the Jesuits
have always prided themselves on their fierce reputations as cunning foot
soldiers of the far-ranging, free-thinking Catholic mind. Astuteness, acumen,
and razor-sharp perceptions were virtues in the high precincts of the Jesuit
world...
A
dark sensuality and a celebration of the masculine virtues as tribal rites inhabited
each corner and room of that beleaguered, ghetto-encircled school. Everything
was tough about Gonzaga, including its neighbors. The Jesuits possessed a
genius at making learning itself seem like a martial art... At Gonzaga, I always
felt as if I should be wearing a coat of armor instead of a coat and tie.
Curious as a cat,
I picked up the Guide and randomly opened to a page:
Sadness
is something else that some people feel reluctant to share with God. Someone
once told me of the experience of going to a movie with a close friend. Because
the subject material intersected with his life, he began to sob at the end of
the movie and was embarrassed. Later on, as the two sat together in a car in
the parking lot, his friend sat silently and simply let him cry.
His
friend wasn’t the only one showing love. The person weeping allowed another to
enter into his life, giving the gift of intimacy. Can you share with God the
intimate gift of your true self, your true emotions, even when you are
grieving?
Hook.
Line. And sinker.
Not
just because of this one passage -- for I could’ve snapped a pic of the page
with my phone -- but because the passage reveals an underlying belief on how to approach God -- a perspective
that rang true with my heart.
LABELS
Back
to my “not being a Protestant.”
I don’t
consider myself a Protestant any more.
No, I’m
not becoming Catholic.
No, it’s
not just because I bought a second
Catholic book.
It’s
because buying the Jesuit book made me realize that there are others out there
who have walked this journey of faith -- specifically the particular paths that
I want to travel -- even though they may come from belief systems I may not
whole-heartedly agree with.
And that,
when I label myself as something other than simply a follower of Christ, I unintentionally
“box” myself -- and God -- into only being able to operate or relate in a
certain way.
So I encourage you, reader -- especially those of you who were raised in church -- examine what you believe based on your experiences with God and your reading of Scripture and other sources. Don't just passively accept what your church or your family believes. In the end, your beliefs are the only ones that matter, anyway (Ezekiel 18:20).
Is it ever okay
to not be okay?
Where perfection is expected
as if it was the only selection,
Continually faking smiles,
Hiding, all the while,
Who I am underneath,
Wondering when someone will See
that I’m not who I present myself to be.
Is it ever okay
to not be okay?
I would love to be fully known
instead of feeling all alone,
but ask me how I’m doing
and every time
I’ll casually respond with
“I am fine,”
Knowing that it’s a calculated reply,
a complete and utter lie.
But I still use it every day
because it’s not okay
to not be okay.
Who I am underneath
is the most important thing
about the face that I see
in the mirror looking back at me.
I wish it would reflect
something more than the circumspect;
hope, perhaps, or even love,
or something heavenly from above.
I acknowledge that God still works wonders,
but right now I’m still under
whatever it is I’m dealing with.
I would love to let you in
to help me bear this burden
but during service
we’re always hurrying,
Not allowing space
for each person’s face
to truly reveal
the man behind the curtain
that we’ve so carefully concealed
Because it’s not okay
to not be okay.
It’s not okay
to not be okay.
I’m sick of being another
stained glass masquerade.
Can’t you see
that it’s impossible for me
to go from victory to victory
When I’m the one to blame
for my troubles and my shame,
For the pain and the strife
that I have in my life
and deal with on a daily basis.
But when I look at everyone’s faces
I can’t let them see
that I’m not really free, because
it’s not okay
to not be okay.
When you tell me I did great
Can’t you see, a difference, it doesn’t make
Because the only type of connection
is casual communication;
There’s no deeper relations
because we only deal in faces
and not the deeper longings of the heart…
And so I will continue showing up
wondering when I will catch a break
and finally come across
the things for which my heart aches.
But in the meantime
when I encounter the parade,
Expect me to show up as a stained glass masquerade,
I'll be honest: the only reason I'm clean-shaven on my face is because I hate having facial hair more.
I hate shaving -- or, at least having to shave -- but I hate having facial hair more.
I
suppose that it doesn't help that I don't have a lot of facial hair
(it's not really thick). Apparently it's so sparse that, according to a good friend who
has used make-up techniques to help other guys' beards seem more full, I "don't even have enough to work with," even if I wanted to grow it out.
One day, while
expressing my frustration about shaving and looking for a long-term
solution for my loathing of this grooming chore, a buddy of mine -- who was completely oblivious to my dilemma -- sent
me the website Dollar Shave Club:
I
had previously been using my electric razor every 2 days or so (I can
get away without shaving for a day and no one really notices, so of
course I don't shave every day).
But I was looking
for something different -- not really sure what -- and here's this
Whisper (Sacred Romance reference) calling me in the direction to
transition to a razor and shaving cream.
Pffff.
Dismissal of the idea with a casual wave of the hand.
No
way I'm going in that direction; it's more inconvenient than using my
electric razor, and what I'm looking for -- now that I think about it --
is something easier.
Never mind the fact that "easy doesn't enter into adult life" (The Weatherman). So I cut my hair last week and you would never guess what happened. No really; go ahead and see if you can guess what happened. I'll give you a hint: I always make sure to shave when I cut my hair. Can't figure it out? Yeah, I wouldn't have guessed, either. My electric razor broke. Oh, no. What actually happened is that the "on" button you're supposed to push in to make it slide up and turn on got "stuck" in the "3" position (the furthest spot up that activates the secondary trimmer) so that I couldn't turn it off. I finished using it the best I could, but then I had to let it sit on the sink -- as if it were in time-out because it had done something wrong (as opposed to user-error for not following the Wild Goose) -- and let the battery run down. It was like a kid crying because they were bad and had to sit in the corner or go to their room: it was an untenable situation and I was helpless to intervene and make things right. My electric shaver is out of commission; he threw a pitch and pulled his shoulder. "Give me the righty!" The coach calls to the bullpen for his relief pitcher.. Enter the good ol' low-tech Gillette shaving cream and Mach 3 sampler that I happened to have and kept stored in a box with my excess toiletries. I've had to use it for the last week or so, and of course, as with any change, there's a sense of loss for what used to be the status quo because -- let's face it -- we get used to things how they are and we're averse to change (for the most part). But today I realized something. First, I wasn't ever taught how to shave. I imagine that many men today aren't. My dad kept a trimmed beard and used an electric on his neck, so I never learned how to shave from him. Then you get to factor in the reality of me not having a lot of facial hair (I was a late bloomer and didn't really have to shave until college), and it's no surprise that I never learned how to shave. I've had an electric razor pretty much all my life. I bought a really nice Braun during college, and it lasted for almost a decade (until it broke last week). You ever have one of those times where you feel God prompting you on something, and then you're like, "No way"?
This was one of those times. And then I was kicked out of the proverbial eagle's nest and forced to (learn how to) fly. And with any change that one is forced (against their will) to accept, I pouted. At first. But then I realized that it's not as bad as I figured. I'm (sort-of voluntarily) shaving (what I would now call "shaving" as opposed to just "cutting facial hair") for the first time in my life. And I'm 30. And then I had some questions. Why are you supposed to shave with the grain and not against it? Wouldn't that make more sense? So I did what pretty much anyone does when they have a question: I went to the most all-knowing source I knew of. That's right. I Googled it lol. And I came across something that dealt with wet shaving. I saw this term, wet shaving, on an info graphic on one of my favorite websites, I Waste So Much Time, last week as well (it's #6, although a lot of the info on there is good stuff):
So I started looking into that. And I stumbled upon this post from Today.com about shaving. I learned more in 10 minutes than I had in 30 years. Because Someone was fathering me through an area of my life where I had previously been a (very unhappy) orphan -- prompting me to go in a direction that would bring me more life. Yes, I was pushed into this, "kicking and screaming" (to quote Tyler Durden), but I'm realizing that the grass on this side of the fence is a lot greener than I thought. (Of course it is, when your Father goes before you to prepare it for you, Deuteronomy 31:8.) Just today, I ended up cutting my hair and shaving after my shower (usually it's hair, shave, then shower). For part of the wet shave, your facial hair has to soak up the water, which causes the hair to soften and makes it easier to cut instead of practically ripping it out of your face when it's dry. I had to rinse my face afterward since I had already showered (the shower would normally rinse the excess shaving cream off for me). Yes, it was inconvenient. Yes, it took up more of my time. But I felt so much better after a haircut and a good shave (my "whiskers" had grown out for several days). And this came to mind:
I would add "grooming" to the list of eating and exercising; you feel better about yourself when you take care of yourself and show yourself some love. You end up taking more pride about who you are (which explains why I always feel better about myself after I cut my hair). And that's what really hit me today: the "inconvenience" of having to slow down and pay attention to what I was doing -- instead of just running an electric razor all over my face -- forced me to be more present (Peaceful Warrior reference) to, and take more care in, what I was doing. Living on autopilot is somewhat of a habit of mine, and so anything that breaks this up is a "welcome inconvenience," if you will.
That, and I realized that wet shaving is the men's grooming equivalent of operating a straight-drive: it's just more masculine, and it's more unplugged from the Matrix of this world's artificially created realities (more on that another time). Will I sign up for Dollar Shave Club? I don't know. In the short term, probably. In the long term, getting a badger-hair brush and a real double-edged safety razor -- or even a straight razor -- may be somewhere down the road, but I have yet to come upon that part of the path with the One who is leading and fathering me in these unfinished places in my life...
For those who
don’t know, Matthew 25 contains 3 major sections:
Parable of the Ten
(Wise & Foolish) Virgins (1-13)
Parable of the
Talents (14-30)
Final Judgment /
Sheep & Goats (31-46)
All, in one way or
another, deal with the final judgment and the end of time.
Taking a look at
the parable of the talents, one servant in particular is given more attention
than the others, and that’s the one who doesn’t do what he’s supposed to (and
is apparently punished accordingly).
This teaching has
been, in the past, used to manipulate people into performance-based activity versus a substance-based faith that revolves around a relationship with
our Creator and Redeemer.
The relationship
will inevitably lead to action as we open up and allow the Spirit of God to
transform us, but actions don’t automatically lead to a relationship (Matthew
7:21-23). As Ellen White wrote in Steps to Christ,
There are those who profess
to serve God while they rely upon their own efforts to obey His law, to form a
right character, and secure salvation. Their hearts are not moved by any deep
sense of the love of Christ,* but they seek to perform the duties of the
Christian life as that which God requires of them in order to gain heaven. Such
religion is worth nothing.
When Christ dwells in the
heart, the soul will be so filled with His love -- with the joy of communion
with Him -- that it will cleave to Him; and in the contemplation of Him, self
will be forgotten. Love to Christ will be the spring of action. Those who feel
the constraining love of God do not ask how little may be given to meet the
requirements of God; they do not ask for the lowest standard, but aim at perfect
conformity to the will of their Redeemer. With earnest desire they yield all
and manifest an interest proportionate to the value of the object which they
seek.
A profession of Christ
without this deep love is mere talk, dry formality, and heavy drudgery.
* Recall that the two most important commandments -- loving God and loving others -- both revolve around love (Mark 12:29-31).
In verse 24, the
master is described (by the servant) as harsh and a gatherer of fruit he didn't
plant (NLT); as having high standards, hating careless ways, demanding the best,
and making no allowances for error (MSG); a hard man and reaping where he has
not sown (NKJV).
The thing that’s
tossed around about this is that it’s understood that God is fair and just, but
harsh and a cheat? He can seem like he's not making the best decision on our
behalf, but that's just about always because we're not seeing things from the
Larger Story (biblical perspective) point of view. The Message has its merits,
but not so much when it says “making no allowances for error” – because,
obviously, that's not true.
So the thing on
this is that most people get how God is a master on the relational scale (since
we are the servants), but they don’t usually see how this captures his true
nature in relating to us long-term.
When I spoke at my
church last year about the Beautiful OutlawCast – a simulcast that addressed
the personality of Jesus – the scripture that the Holy Spirit brought to my
mind the night before was Luke 19:21-22. This is when the servant who believed
that his master was an “austere” man gives an account. He was fearful of his
master; the Greek word (Strong's #G5399) means when someone is put to flight because of being terrified (reminds
me of Adam hiding from God in the Garden, “I was naked – read: vulnerable – and I was afraid because
of my vulnerability, which is why I hid”).
The servant didn’t
really know the master, and so the
master is, in a way, being portrayed as something he is not. And to be honest,
I can’t really blame how the master acted, being falsely accused – and by a
subordinate at that! No one likes to be misunderstood, and God is no exception
to that rule (Jeremiah 9:23-24).
Yes, there are
some things that we get to question and prod to find out answers to:
More important than what you ask, though, is how you ask. However, there are other
things that you simply don’t
get to question God about:
“Woe to the one
who quarrels with his Maker – an earthenware vessel among the vessels of earth!
Will the clay say to the potter, ‘What are you doing?’ Or the thing you are
making say, ‘He has no hands’?” ~ Isaiah 45:9
We humans have a
tendency to get too big for our britches,
as the saying goes. In other words, we forget our place in life and demand too
much of those who, in reality, owe us nothing (*cough* God *cough*):
Then we come to
Matthew 25:26, where the master – who we can easily infer is symbolic of God –
calls the servant wicked and lazy...
Most people get
that that might be the truth in being lazy and acting out of wickedness for some people (e.g., the wicked at the final judgment), but when it's used in
comparison to how God views us (those who have professed faith in Christ) and
what we're primarily used for? That's
a bit sketchy. From that point of view, it's basically teaching that that's how
God sees us when we mess up and that we don't get second chances.
This is why we
learn self-fulfilling prophecy in
psychology: you believe something, and then you behave in a way that makes it
come true, thus (further) confirming your beliefs. Case in point, check out the
following clip (0:00-0:46):
The master was not
austere; he was generous according to their abilities. This 1-talent servant
freaked out with only 1 talent; how do you think he would’ve responded if his
master had given him 10?! His master would’ve been ten times as pissed for the misuse
of ten times the ability, so giving this servant only
a little was actually a compassionate – read: loving – action because he had less
to be judged for. The master was fully aware of what the servant could handle
and didn’t give any him more than he could bear.
Matthew 25:19 says
that it was “a long time” before the master returned. Fear wasn’t just a
one-time response for this servant; it
was a way of life, and the fearful do not inherit the kingdom.
I didn’t
realize that particular point until John Eldredge pointed
it out in Revelation 21:8 -- and notice who gets mentioned first! (Hint: it’s the
fearful.)
I had a bumper
sticker one time that said, “God sends no one to hell; those who ignore Jesus
send themselves there.” Keep in mind that the master was generous to those who
were loyal to him (2 Chronicles 16:9a); the servant who was loyal to his fear elicited that particular reaction from his master. The master didn’t want to be like that, just like a father
doesn’t want to have to discipline
his children, but sometimes it has to happen because of the love the father has
for his children. And for a God who is
Love, every action of his is always
founded on his nature, which is love:
The story is
almost told from the perspective of each servant. The fearful servant also
didn’t truly know his lord because “perfect
love casts out fear” (1 John 4:18). Again, this whole thing is about relationship, not just obedience (reference Matthew 7:21-23).
This is one of the
things I’ve really appreciated about the TV show, Once
Upon A Time, because you can see how transformative love is in people’s lives:
Rumplestiltskin opens up to Belle in order to express himself in a moment of emotional vulnerability;
Charming defends
Ruby (the werewolf) in the midst of an insurrection lead by his former enemy;
Emma realizes how
much her parents cared for her by sending her away when she sees the nursery
that they had set up for her and the broken dreams that it represented;
Regina (the evil queen), out of
love for Henry, is able to get along with the husband of her long-time enemy and, out of love for Daniel, finally
lets him go because you can’t force a
true relationship (reference Proverbs 18:19).
This servant
didn’t let the love and grace of God open up and transform him, and so he never
established a relationship with his Maker that had any substance to it –
meaning that he didn’t truly know his
master, which is what God wants from us, anyway (John 17:3).
Okay, so, some
people understand that we have certain things we need to take care of and are
appointed to do as followers of God. But what does this teach when we're basing
that idea on a “one time does it” mentality kinda story like this? I mean,
this is talking about the final judgment. So, yes, God is fair, but how does
this capture his heart if it's taught with such a binding “works” mentality?
I’ll reference the
point I made above about the fact that this
servant had made a lifestyle out of living by fear. “Contempt” is one of
the responses that are given to the wicked (Daniel 12:2). The Hebrew word
(Strong's #H1860) is used twice in the Old Testament and translated “abhorring” or “contempt,” both of which
imply something that is repulsive (“lukewarm” comes to mind, Revelation
3:15-16). Contempt is an emotion felt toward
someone, and although God will invariably love
every single person who has ever lived, who could blame him for being
broken-hearted toward those who have continually spurned his wooing heart?
By the way, it’s
only those who we love that can break
our hearts in this way, and God is no different since we are made in his image.
This is something that I realized about Jesus and Judas a while back:
Any one of us,
knowing that Judas would betray us, would act in a way that would bring about
that betrayal (self-fulfilling prophecy, anyone?). We would be callous toward
him, dismissive, bitter, etc., and he would be justified in harboring feelings of
resentment that would lead to betraying us.
But love, by
definition, does not do that. It is
patient, tender, humble, selfless, “keeps no record of being wronged,” “never
gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every
circumstance” (reference 1 Corinthians 13:4-7).
Jesus, because of
his loving nature, could not and would not and did not ever give up on trying to win Judas’ heart. He was
vulnerable with Judas, fully expressing the heart of God, “not willing that any
should perish” (2 Peter 3:9). As John Eldredge wrote of God in Wild at Heart,
God's relationship with
us and with our world is just that: a relationship. As with every relationship,
there's a certain amount of unpredictability, and the ever-present likelihood
that you'll get hurt. The ultimate risk anyone ever takes is to love, for as
C.S. Lewis says, "Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly
broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give it to no
one, not even an animal."
But God does give [his heart to us] -- again and again and
again -- until he is literally bleeding from it all. God's willingness to risk
is just astounding -- far beyond what any of us would do, were we in his
position.
Which means that
the consequences of Judas’ actions – his betrayal of Jesus – fall squarely on his
own shoulders.
The Holy Spirit is
no different with each of our own hearts, as Jehovah spoke of ancient Israel:
Now I will sing for the one I love
a song about his vineyard:
My beloved had a vineyard
on a rich and fertile hill.
He plowed the land, cleared its stones,
and planted it with the best vines.
In the middle he built a watchtower
and carved a winepress in the nearby rocks.
Then he waited for a harvest of sweet
grapes,
but the grapes that grew were bitter.
Now, you people of Jerusalem and Judah,
you judge between me and my vineyard.
What more could I have done for my vineyard
that I have not already
done?
When I expected sweet grapes,
why did my vineyard give me bitter grapes?
(Isaiah 5:1-4)
God does
everything that he possibly can in wooing and winning our hearts that does not
violate our own free will:
To force himself
on us would be the equivalent of spiritual rape and would be appalling to the
utmost degree imaginable. Could you imagine any judge or jury returning with a
“not guilty” verdict for a husband who forced himself onto his wife -- repeatedly -- against her
will? Even though it’s morally lawful for them to have sex because they're married, if he forces it against
her will, it’s still rape – which would then make it unlawful.
So for Judas – as
well as this servant – to continue to resist God’s gentle-yet-persistent
beckonings is going to invariably leave God hurt.
Despite our love for someone, which one of us
wouldn’t feel some contempt toward a person who broke our heart?
DISCLAIMER:
Contempt does not mean unforgiveness.
In the strictly literal sense, yes,
the wicked at the end of time are
unforgiven – because they did not accept Jesus’ atoning sacrifice – but they
are also still deeply loved by their
Creator. More on that thought in this post.
It probably
wouldn’t be a stretch to imagine this guy as a fence-rider, either, never really
leaning one way or the other (again, the “lukewarm” issue surfaces).
Don’t get me
wrong, Jesus gets pissed at people,
but it’s typically the people who know
what they are supposed to do and then don’t do it; these are presumably the
people who would have the best chance of truly knowing God (reference John 5:39).
He also has a
compassionate side, though. Matthew 12:20 says “a bruised reed shall he not
break.” He’s tender with the broken, the wounded, etc. He was always looking to
mend hearts in addition to people’s physical frailties.
“But if you had
known what this means – ‘I will have mercy, and not sacrifice’ – you would not
have condemned the guiltless.” ~ Matthew 12:7
There’s no way I’m
going to presume that I know how God judges people, because I don’t. But it’s
like the whole faith-versus-works thing – there’s evidence for both sides, and there
is no way we’re figuring out how much
God is "made up" of each one. There’s mystery here, that’s for sure.
“Paradox: Life’s a
mystery. Don’t bother trying to figure it out.” ~ Peaceful Warrior
Yes, obey God in
feeding the hungry, etc., etc. But God doesn't hate you and immediately toss
you to the side or into a dark pit where there's gnashing of teeth (Hell, most
people would assume).
Some can
have a real issue with how people portray God in this strict comparison
with the master. But Jesus explains that God is going to deal fairly with it.
Which, yeah, he is. But it’s easy to think that the master in the story was a
bit extreme – and that can have
devastating effects in how people view their lives.
I remember reading
about when "Samuel" appeared to Saul in the Old Testament after being summoned by
a medium (which, by the way, attempting to communicate with the dead is/was strictly forbidden, Deuteronomy 18:9-12).
The Mistake (1 Samuel 28:7-11). Saul
consults with a medium.
The Misperception (1 Samuel 28:14).
Notice that the scriptures do not say
that it was Samuel, but that Saul perceived
that it was Samuel. If angels can disguise themselves as people (Hebrews 13:2), then it's not too much of a stretch to say that fallen angels can imitate people, too.
The Message (1 Samuel 28:19-20). “Moreover”
in verse 20. In other words, “Above and beyond the news I have already given
you, here’s some more bad news.” Notice Saul’s reaction: “then Saul... was sore
afraid because of the words of Samuel.”
The Murder (1 Samuel 31:4, 1 Chronicles
10:13-14). As if I needed to go further, it is written that God specifically
killed Saul for his consultation with the medium.
Notice that in 1
Chronicles, the text explicitly says that Saul didn’t approach God about it, but
that he went to a woman who had a familiar spirit; would I be presumptuous to say that God desired for Saul to seek the answer from Himself? But no, Saul
wouldn’t humble himself and take a chance with God (Micah 6:8), so he played it safe and
consulted what he thought was a safe bet...
It’s usually the heart-level
issues that are important.
Too much emphasis on obedience focuses on the
symptom (e.g., inaction), similar to the “check engine” light on a car. Just
don’t forget to take a good look under the hood – read, under the surface – every once in a while...
God’s heart is for
us to repent, to turn ourselves back toward him and away from our selfish ways of
handling life (Ezekiel 18:31-32). Satan would give a message that is intended
to rob us of hope and for us to give in to despair, which is exactly what
happened to Saul.
“God has not given
us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love...” ~ 2 Timothy
1:7
“There is no
fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear...” ~ 1 John 4:18
Again, recall that
this servant made his fear of his master a lifestyle
that he lived out for a considerable period of time. He didn’t truly know his master, which means that his perception of his master was false,
but that his false perspective caused a (falsely perceived) reality to occur that confirmed his misperception.
Bottom line:
Get
to know God.
Allow his love to fill and transform you.
And then take your filled
and transformed self and get ‘er done.
