|
Modern-day Christians are fans of the Genie-in-a-lamp concept. We treat God like a Genie to be called on and/or manipulated into doing what we want. When found in tough situations, we rationalize, reason with, and beg God to handle the situation according to OUR standards with little regard for His. We know best, after all!
Sadly, American Christians are hardly the pioneers in this realm of reasoning. Ancient Israel cornered the market on the approach-God-as-a-Genie subject, a pathetic tributary to man’s fallibility. The Philistines drew up in battle array to meet Israel. When the battle spread, Israel was defeated before the Philistines who killed about four thousand men on the battlefield. When the people came into the camp, the elders of Israel said, ‘Why has the Lord defeated us today before the Philistines? Let us take ourselves from Shiloh the ark of the covenant of the Lord, that it may come among us and deliver us from the power of our enemies.’ 1 Samuel 4:2-3 If God is a genie, the Ark of the Covenant is His lamp. In the Old Testament, God graciously chose to manifest His presence among His people in the Ark of the Covenant, which resided in several locations until the Temple was built and it rested in the Holy of Holies. Israel was given strict guidelines for approaching and transporting the Ark. No one could touch the Ark itself without being struck by God’s hand of judgment. It was carried by several men holding the poles that were attached to it. The Ark commanded great reverence and was undoubtedly the most holy relic Israel ever possessed. Over time, idolatry crept into the minds and hearts of the Israelites. The holy lost its awe among the people; the revered became the been-there-and-done-that. When the Israelites found themselves in a pickle (i.e. defeated by the Philistines in battle), they resorted to their secret weapon and magic lamp—the Ark of the Covenant. They’re thought process went something like, “Surely if we bring the Ark into battle with us, God will secure our victory! He wouldn’t let anything happen to the Ark!” In essence, they tried twisting God’s hand by using His Ark as leverage. They approached God as their Genie who resided in their Ark-lamp they rallied behind. Disregarding God completely, they attempted to manipulate His power into serving their purposes. Desiring God evaded their minds entirely. They cared not for who He is, but what He could do…for them. No surprise, the results were disastrous (the Philistines destroyed them in battle again and captured the ark). The irony? The Israeliteswere surprised their Genie-in-a-lamp escapade didn’t work! An unfortunate and one of many embarrassments for Israel. They were so blinded by their own sin they didn’t realize their own ridiculousness. Idolatry does that. One great definition of idolatry I love is by Scotty Smith: “An idol is anything we trust in for deliverance in the place of Jesus and His grace.” In all ironies, Israel’s idolatry revolved around God—using Him as a means to their end rather than Him being the end of their means—and missing Him entirely in the process. We do this ALL THE TIME. We seek deliverance through our accomplishments and ability to manipulate God into acting on our behalf. We rub the magic lamp of Scripture or church attendance expecting God to reward us in ways we deem appropriate. The audacity of this posture is appalling and has no place in the Gospel of Christ. The Gospel is God’s grace. The only aspect we attribute to the Gospel is the reason we need it in the first place. Unlike Israel, we must let God’s sovereign grace penetrate every aspect of our minds and hearts to the point where we can’t help but fall prostrate in humility before Him. God is not a genie; He has no magic lamp. We exist to glorify Him, and if it takes death for that goal to be realized so be it. He is our life, our song and our reason for living. Squash the Genie-in-a-lamp mentality and surrender to the holy and all-powerful God who deserves our ALL.
0 Comments
Greek mythology fascinates even the most ignorant of history’s pupils. The myriad of stories of the gods and their conquests intrigue and captivate people from all walks of life—artists, archeologists, authors, and historians alike.
Fortunately, modern day admirers don’t believe the fables as valid historical events (hence the term, mythology). But in our state of intrigue we often forget that the ancient world very much believed the historicity of Greek gods. Their worldviews and philosophical frameworks revolved around these gods, and they’d often hold debates to theorize about the greatness (or lack thereof) of their favorites. One of my choice characters of Greek mythology is Atlas. Atlas exemplified strength and guts when he stormed the heavens, but was punished eternally by Zeus to bear the heavens and earth on his shoulders. I’m convinced the ancient Greeks loved their gods because they could relate so well with them—their trials, impulsive tendencies, weaknesses and strengths. They weren’t perfect; neither are we. Regrettably, my fascination with Atlas revolves around my familiarity with his punishment. No, I haven’t been sentenced to bear the heavens and earth on my shoulders for eternity. But I often live as if the heavens and earth are my burdens to bear. I exert, though often subconsciously, a posture of self-righteous pity and gloom because of unending responsibilities birthed from my control-freakness. Woe is me! I have so much to do and if I don’t complete my check list, the world as we know it will fall down around me! Of course, this posture reeks of selfishness and vain conceit. Though a wildly unpopular notion, the world keeps spinning round and round regardless of my presence. Any activities I contribute to it may benefit those around me (slightly), but ultimately, my efforts exist without meaning, much like Atlas’. God often reminds me of my fallibility and stature to get me off my high horse. Though He loves me unconditionally, He doesn’t need me. I am not a foundational commodity necessary for the continued operations of this world. Nor does God need me to accomplish His Gospel purposes. I am but a breath in the timeline of history—here one moment and gone the next. Depressing to think about, but it’s absolutely true. The GOOD news, however, is only half the story has been told. Though God doesn’t need us, He chooses to love us and include us in His glorious plan of redemption. Christ died so we could die to our sinful selves and live again in the true and eternal life He bestows. If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come. Now all these things are from God, who reconciled us to Himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation, namely, that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and He has committed to us the word of reconciliation. Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were making an appeal through us; we beg you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. 2 Corinthians 5:17-20 When I act like a savior, God reminds me Who really is. I am nothing without Christ. I take that back: I’m forever lost in the abyss of hell without Christ, who literally took on the world to save me. Christ’s world-bearing served a purpose (unlike Atlas’ and mine)—to rescue the world from its deteriorating sin and inject His life into it for eternity. Christ bore the sins of the world, not as an unrelenting punishment to bear, but as a single act that bears eternal ramifications for those who believe. By bearing the world’s sins on His shoulders on the cross, He reconciled us to Himself; and in turn, empowers us to be agents of that reconciliation. Jesus bore the burden, we reap His victory. Jesus died so we could live. Jesus acted; we get to act on His behalf for the rest of our time here. The world is not mine to bear because Jesus already bore it. I get to surrender to His victory and represent Him to this world; but that can’t happen until I squash my pride and attribute it to Him. He is THE God. What part of the world are you bearing unnecessarily on your shoulders today? Will you surrender it to God who bore everything for us on the cross and live in the victory He secures for us in Christ? Church and ministry are my deal. At 16 God planted a seed in my heart that grew into a full-time ministry calling—for better or for worse. As for the worse, few professions acutely divulge the depravity of human nature more than ministry. As for the best, few professions provide a front-row seat to watch God’s grace reach through the chaos and grip a life for Jesus.
That’s why I stick around. For all the hours of depression, disappointment, and migraines, moments sprout that reveal glimpses of His glory—making it all worth it. Glimpses of His glory drive my passion for ministry and shape my personal mission statement, “To Know Him and Make Him Known.” Once you see a glimpse of His glory, you’re hooked. Totally, completely, and mesmerizingly hooked. No going, looking, or running back. We often try, but His grace proves stronger. Glimpses of glory come in many shapes and sizes, but one common thread seen in every one of them is the window through which they are seen—the Word. We cannot experience a glimpse of His glory without peering through the window of His Word. But wait a minute! What about through prayer? Or gazing at a marvelous scene of nature? Surely windows other than His Word exist to see a glimpse of His glory! Not really and here’s why. Glimpse experiences occur through many venues, but every one of them point to truth; and truth is His Word. Prayer is a natural human impulse (even atheists find a prayer on their lips in a crisis!), but we don’t know how to pray or Who we’re praying to without Scripture. Nature in all its majesty is what we call “natural revelation.” Romans 1 states clearly that “since the creation of this world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, begin understood through what has been made, so that they [i.e. WE] are without excuse.” The glory of nature reveals aspects of God’s power and creativity, but it alone cannot drive us to the cross. Without Scripture, we may figure out that someone or something created the earth, but we don’t know who it was, how it happened, or for what purpose it was created. Bottom line is we can’t get intimate with God—experience glimpses of His glory—without getting intimate with the Word. We cannot make Him known to others without first knowing Him ourselves. All of our knowledge of Him comes either directly or indirectly from the Word. Get into it. Get intimate with it and let it be the window through which you view everything and everyone around you! Belief is an intriguing concept; at least, the way we usually perceive it. Beliefs infiltrate every aspect of our lives—our worldviews, relationships, personalities, reactions, behavioral tendencies, and dreams. They grip us (though we think we’re gripping them), and we live by them more than we’d like to admit.
Example: we believe our best friend is dating a moron. That simple belief (true or not) influences our thoughts, behaviors, actions, and our relationship with our friend. It even spills over to other friends to make them agree with us! Small or big, trivial or life-changing, beliefs dye our lives with their color and slant. We can’t escape them; they don’t let go easily. Old ones are replaced with new ones; they never go away. Beliefs also fight for our attention. Constantly. Our perspectives undergo major jilting by the media, our jobs, families, friends, and religious persuasions. Everyone and everything vies for us to buy into what they’re selling. And yes, this includes churches. Every weekend pulpits stuff themselves with pastors shouting a message they want their congregation to believe. Truth often finds itself embedded in the diatribes, but unfortunately, such an observation cannot be aptly assumed. What they (pastors along with everyone else) want is the action that accompanies our belief. We’re no good to them hiding in the philosophical crevices that captivate our minds. They want action—a.k.a. belief on display. Action, however, is only one component to belief. Belief is tripartite: 1) Intellectual comprehension of a stated notion (understanding/knowledge) 2) Personal assertion to that notion, and (faith/trust) 3) A willingness to act on that assertion. (action) Belief combines all three of these components. We don’t (or shouldn’t) act according to something we don’t personally assert to; nor do we intellectually comprehend something then assert to a theory that defies it. To believe is to know/understand, assert, and then act on a notion. That’s what it means to believe in something. When that something is God’s truth; we’re on the right track. Belief, though exercising intellect and decisions, often fails experientially. We may do right and get the approval of others, but fail to experience the truth we’re trying to desperately to believe. We can believe that God is good, for instance, all day long. We can intellectually comprehend it, personally assert to its truth, and base our actions on that assertion. But how do we actually experience what we believe? How does God’s goodness penetrate our hearts to the extent that it grips our emotions as well as our minds? Before we get to the “how to” let’s look at the “how NOT to do.” James 2:19 states, “You believe that God is one. You do well; the demons also believe and shudder.” Heavy, eh? The most gut-wrenchingly evil beings in existence believe in God. They know He’s just, righteous, holy, and powerful. They intellectually comprehend those facts, personally assert to their truth, and base their actions on it. (They’re actions are wrong, of course, but they’re actions nonetheless.) So what do we need that demons don’t have to experience God’s truth appropriately in our lives??? (Ode to another formula, though I’m not a formula fan...) Belief + Surrender = Experience Belief without surrender is like a sky diver who never leaves the plane. It remains all up in the head (plane) without reaching the heart being enticed into action. The action accommodating belief alone is robotic and methodical. Or is never reached at all because the knowledge and/or faith aren’t that strong. Or it’s the demon kind, going against it as hard and fast as possible. Intellectual assertion paves the road of experiential belief, but it doesn’t get the driver there. Surrender is the fuel that propels us toward experiencing the Gospel, not just “getting” it. Genuine, life-transforming Gospel experiences only occur when we surrender to the truth He’s led us to believe. Truth manifests itself experientially when paired with a surrendered heart. It won’t force itself on us, nor will it obnoxiously banter us until noticed. Rather, it gently woos and waits for us to understand/believe, then surrender to it. Fall into His Gospel daily. Don’t just study, philosophize, argue, and run around it. Immerse yourself in its truth with belief, then fall off the cliff of surrender into its welcoming glory. Did you know…?
The apostle Peter struggled immensely with distinguishing tradition and truth. Before Christ, Jews thought they corned the God-market. They were, after all, God’s chosen people and they spared no expense letting others know of their status with Him. What they didn’t realize, however, caused a spiritual heart disease far worse than any physical one—God cares far more about our hearts than He does our actions. Jews figured out how to look marvelous on the outside. They strove to obey all 613 laws on the Torah, and to ensure their obedience, implemented hundreds of additional laws as safeguards! They thought of themselves as star pupils and were overconfident in their accomplishments. Jesus in typical style turned their world upside-down. His message of truth shocked them not because they were acting blatantly wrong, but because in doing right they were wrong. In essence, they invested in their traditions to the extent of neglecting truth. The Apostle Peter’s world flip-flopped many times in his faith journey, and one of particular note finds itself recorded in Acts 11. At this point, Jesus had died, been buried, resurrected, appeared to hundreds of people, and ascended back to His heavenly glory leaving His disciples with the commission to make disciples of all nations. Peter and the rest of the Christian gang believed they were still Jews, Messianic Jews. They accepted their Messiah (Jesus) while the rest of their Jewish brethren had not. Because of this belief, they still worshiped as a Jew did—went to the Temple, read the same Scriptures, prayed the same way and identified themselves with the brethren. In their minds, discipling other nations meant converting everyone to Judaism because that’s how it worked before. Prior to Christ, in order to enter a relationship with God, one would have to become a Jew—be fully immersed in everything Jew and be stripped of all else. But Jews rejected Him as a whole, so Christ shattered this requirement and opened salvation to any and all who would come. Peter finds himself in this transition period—a Jewish Christian who’s embracing Jesus’ Gospel. Acts 10 & 11 (paraphrased) talks about a Gentile (non-Jew) named Cornelius receiving a vision from God to travel to Joppa and send for Peter. While he was on his way, Peter had a vision as well. He saw the sky open up and something like a great sheet with four corners descending down. All kinds of “unclean” (non-kosher) animals filled the sheet and God told him to get up and eat. Peter refused because Jewish law fiercely forbade consuming unclean animals. God commanded him to eat three more times, then the sheet disappeared. While still perplexed, the Spirit told Peter to “go downstairs and accompany them without misgivings, for I have sent them Myself.” Peter obeyed and ate with the Gentiles, also a big no-no to Jews. God slammed the tradition hammer down onto Peter’s heart that day. “I (Peter) most certainly understand now that God is not one to show partiality, but in every nation the man who fears Him and does what is right is welcome to Him”…all the circumcised (Jewish) believers were amazed, because the gift of the Holy Spirit had been poured out on the Gentiles also. Admittedly, God was changing the rules a bit (He doesn’t anymore by the way; Scripture is complete). But the shift in regulation would never have been so shocking if the Jews hadn’t contaminated the rules with their tradition. The truth: surrender to God in faith; abide by His ordained Jewish law to reflect said faith. The tradition: conform in every way, shape, and form to Jewish law and decree—even those outside the Torah; abandon all Gentile practices and ways, and hope to remain a second-class proselyte. Tradition contaminated the truth, causing serious ramifications in the shift. Through the guidance of the Spirit, the apostles and early church leaders began realizing how vast the tradition contamination warped their views of truth. Though a painful process, they separated truth from tradition and grew more intimate with God than they ever thought possible. Early church fathers and modern-day Christians share an impenetrable bond—we pursue truth, His truth, and nothing but the truth. At least, we should. Truth must be our number one priority, and frequent internal examinations should be scheduled to keep us on track. Standing back and asking the age-old question, “Why?” is a good start. Why are we doing this? Why aren’t we doing this another way? Questions purge truth from tradition. Research paves the way. We must never settle for tradition or ignore truth simply because it upsets the status quo. Christ paid the ultimate price to usher us into the radical truth of His gospel. Tradition has its place, but when it becomes a barrier rather than an amplifier, it’s time to part ways. In the tradition vs truth faceoff, truth always wins. We’re accountable to truth regardless of tradition, so make sure personal traditions align with God’s truth. One of the most difficult questions when contemplating faith, religion and life is the problem of evil. Unless living in a bubble, we’re each very aware of the brokenness of our world and the evil that penetrates every facet of it. Events unfold that defy reason and logic—infants die, courts acquit murderers, and natural disasters claim countless lives.
Evil poses a problem for our faith because of the conclusions we draw from it about God (if, in fact, He exists). If there is a God and He is all-powerful, then why wouldn’t He rid the world of evil and wipe out all residue of pain and suffering? He must not be good or He must not be loving. Omnipotence that permits evil must translate into a God who doesn’t care—the little-kid-over-an-ant-hill-with-a-magnifying-glass theological view. We’d better appease Him or He’ll direct His wrath at us. “But He’s a God of LOVE!” Christians refute. Then He must not be all-powerful. If He loves us, He must be incapable of ridding the world of evil and/or protecting us from it. Love without power is understandable because then God’s not at fault. He would save us if He could, but evil’s just too strong an opponent. Hence the problem of evil. If God exists, He’s either uncaring or not powerful enough to deal with it. Or so the natural line of thinking states. Applying natural precepts to the ways of God betrays a faulty premise that leads to unsatisfying conclusions. The premise is two-fold: 1) that we’re on par with God and able to fully comprehend His ways, and 2) that our fallible ways of thinking automatically correspond with His infallible ones. It’s utter arrogance to position ourselves as God’s equals, much less to derive conclusions from such a deceived posture. In order to understand God’s ways we have to put ourselves in His shoes and under His authority. He’s not a philosophical concept to dissect and analyze, but rather the holy, sovereign deity who demands our utmost respect and admiration. To understand truth we must do so on His terms. So let’s begin. We’ll start at the beginning and determine a Scripture-based approach to address the problem of evil. Fallible = Fall-IBLE Most of us admit familiarity with the narrative of Genesis 3 (a.k.a. the fall of man). God creates the universe and everything in it—mankind being the cherry on top. Adam and Eve lack nothing. God spoils them with perfection—perfect food, perfect water, perfect fellowship with Him, perfect romance, perfect sex (yes, sex was God’s idea!), perfect jobs, perfect bodies. Everything went according to plan and each day left them completely satisfied. God buckled down on only one command—not to eat from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Adam and Eve, as we know, decided against that bit of advice and aspired to be as wise as God in both good and evil. They ate the fruit and got the aftertaste of total depravity. Hope it tasted good! Familiar narrative. Pretty straightforward and uncomplicated until we dig deeper into the origin of sin. Evil existed before Adam and Eve bit into the flesh of the forbidden fruit. Say what? Yep. The tempting servant presumably possessed a bit of evil, wouldn’t you say? Evil didn’t penetrate humanity and the earth until they willingly partook of it, but it was certainly present. Imagine it like a crystal clear aquarium. Pure, undefiled and translucent with fish swimming carelessly around coral and plants. In the middle of the aquarium sits a vial of food coloring (why? I don’t know; just go with it). If disturbed, the food coloring will eject and defile the entire aquarium—with no hope of restoration without outside interference. Adam and Eve broke the vial and invited its contents to defile the world. The question is: did God create the vial? The analogy admittedly breaks down at this point. But God became the outside interference with a plan to restore the mess we made of ourselves and the world. Regarding the vial, fallibility is an intrinsic attribute of humanity and the world because both are created. Creatures and creation inherently depend on a Creator for life and sustenance. Unlike our Creator who needs nothing for life, we depend greatly on components like food, water, shelter and community. Created beings are fallible—prone to falling. Fallible means we’re fall-ible (i.e. able to fall). Only the sovereign and holy God cannot fall. His creatures, on the other hand, fall because we’re not capable of sustaining ourselves. Evil entered the universe via a decision made through fallible logic and reasoning. At some point in history past, Satan (a created being just like the rest of us) decided God could be emulated and that he was the angel for the job. This fallible thought (thinking he could be like God) originated from a fallible mind (i.e. a created being prone to error) and produced fallible consequences (the birth of sin). The tempter quickly discovered a new kind of power and may or may not realize its gloomy destination. Ultimately, God will deal with sin. He will destroy its power over His children and provide them with a new heaven and new earth—immune to sin because of the encompassing sacrifice of the cross. Until then, Satan desires to drag as many people he can with him into the pit of eternal damnation. His plan began with Adam and Eve in Genesis 3 and continues today. Regardless of what some may believe, we aren’t innocent bystanders wrongly victimized by Adam and his sin. God forgo creating robots and fashioned people in His image—capable of love and making decisions. Because of this, creating people (and angels for that matter) meant creating the potential of sin. The two cannot be separated because, again, only the infallible can remain so. Yes, Adam sinned. But even if he hadn’t, we certainly would and the world experiences the detriment of our sin daily. His Plan, Love and Power God permits sin to exist in the world now for the sake of redeeming it—for rescuing as many people possible to Him through the Gospel. He is both all-loving and all-powerful, but His love and power cannot be squeezed into pre-determined boxes of logic we derive from faulty reasoning. His love displays itself grandly through His patience and vantage point. He desires all to know Him and coming to saving faith through Christ, so He waits—even if it means allowing temporary suffering. His sovereign vantage point realizes the momentary pain in this world can’t compare with the eternal agony awaiting so many in hell. So He allows evil to continue. Many fail to realize, however, that God and Satan aren’t contending opponents. They don’t reside on two ends the universe playing an epic game of tug of war. God owns Satan, and Satan does nothing without permission from God. The prevalence of evil in this world operates within the confines of God’s sovereignty, which reflects His omnipotence. No one stands in comparison to God’s authority and power. Look at Job. As a righteous man he endured greater pain and loss than anyone who’s ever lived. But Satan didn’t strike him with vengeance unbeknownst to God. Rather, he’s forced to ask God’s permission to inflict harm on Job. Job’s story deals a seeming blow to the attribute of God’s love (why He let the trials happen) until we remember another characteristic of His sovereignty—redemption. Though He allows evil to continue, He redeems it to accomplish His purposes. This must frustrate Satan to no end. Satan strikes us hard with arrows of disease, death, loss of jobs, accidents and natural disasters for the purpose of keeping us as far away from God as possible. When he inflicts all the damage he’s measly little brain can conceive, God steps in with a slight smile and uses every aspect of the disasters to further His Gospel and proclaim His glory. Through trials we gain endurance, which results in wholeness and maturity so we lack in nothing of eternal weight (James 1:2-4). God uses evil to accomplish His purposes and transform us into the image of His Son, Jesus Christ. Is it easy to endure hardship? Not hardly. Pain isn’t code or Christian-speak for joy; nor should it be. It hurts. Sometimes, it kills like a slow-burning fire. Going through a trial and/or experiencing evil first hand depletes every measure of resolve we possess. Survival mode kicks in and we operate on autopilot until the shock wears off and the real pain graces us with its presence. Real life happens outside the bubble. Sometimes we fool ourselves into thinking life’s peachy keen, only to get hit with a trial so hard we can’t remember a time we ever enjoyed peace. But if we know Jesus and surrender to His truth, He ALWAYS brings us through and ALWAYS provides us peace through the storm. And with the benefit of 20/20 hindsight, we realize how much we grew in our understanding and experience of His gospel through our pain. Evil is a problem, but God isn’t its facilitator or originator. His undeserved love spurns unobligated grace for us in Jesus. His unmatched sovereignty and unfathomable creativity redeems the present evil we encounter and uses it as fuel for His gospel and glory. His patience paves the way for our redemption, and His faithfulness sees it through to the end. God’s not the problem of evil; He’s the solution. Life ebbs and flows. It spans the highest of mountains and the lowest of valleys. Some days leave us feeling on top of the world; others at the pit of despair. Circumstances dictate far too many aspects of our lives, and often direct our ascent to joy or fall into anguish.
Many of us neglect to realize that events themselves are neutral. Situations happen and we run into a myriad of them every day without escape. But they only force reactions; they don’t mandate them. In other words, we control the rudder that directs our state of mind through the murky waters of life. We choose to stand or fall, turn right or left, fight or retreat. Life throws us tidal waves and sunshine, but only we determine how either will impact us. Sunshine and clear skies rarely throw us into pits of depression, but tidal waves and ravaging storms do. We’re so finicky. When life sails smoothly, we bask in joy and our light hearts bounce with glee. When life stumbles upon rough waters, we look for someone to blame and throw pity parties until the storm passes. God usually finds Himself the recipient of our fits. We wrestle with, celebrate, blame, praise, question, and shake our fists at Him depending on our circumstances; though the volume of our communication with Him normally reserves itself for stormy waters. The greater the storm, the louder our voices of protest resound. Or in an attempt to get back at Him we succumb to silence, erroneously thinking our silence can manipulate Him into doing what we want. Either way, God bears the brunt of our blame, when He should be the recipient of our praise. One man in the Old Testament whose life attests to these truths is Elijah. God anointed Elijah as His prophet and ordained his life to accomplish mighty purposes for His name. Probably the most famous account of Elijah’s life reflects the throw down at Mt. Carmel between God (with Elijah) and Baal (with his prophets). God disintegrates any possibility of Baal’s deity through a display of unhindered glory—thrusting fire from heaven to consume the sacrifice Elijah prepared. (Baal’s prophets failed to call down fire after hours of begging and slashing themselves with knives to appease him). Everyone acknowledges God as Lord and Elijah experiences a spiritual high that puts most of ours to utter shame. The high continues with Elijah’s call of rain to end after years of drought. Being in God’s sweet spot for your life renders a sense of spiritual euphoria beyond imagination. Elijah experienced his sweet spot to degrees hardly imaginable to us. Sailing through his life then resounded perfection—far beyond mere mediocrity and pleasantness. With such a backdrop, chapter 19 of 1 Kings surfaces. King Ahab (the one whose god Baal just got pummeled by God Almighty on Mt. Carmel) recounts the event to his wife, Jezebel, who’s not thrilled with the news. Infuriated, she sends a messenger to Elijah to communicate a promise of death. Elijah receives the news (remember, he’s just experienced an intense spiritual high) and reacts to Jezebel’s threat contrary to expectation. He was afraid and arose and ran for his life. (1 Kings 19:3a) Instead of standing firm and claiming God’s protection, Elijah freaks out. He wines, complains, and sinks so far as to beg God to take his life. He arrogantly believes that he’s the only one left who believes in God and decides life isn’t worth living anymore. To wit, the depth of his pity party matches the height of his spiritual euphoria just a couple of days before. Elijah’s story encompasses the schizophrenia of our relationships with God more than we’d like to admit. When life overflows with sunshine and peachiness, our walks with God are sweet and satisfying. But when life ushers a storm into our presence, we turn abruptly and throw parties of pity unmatched by Hollywood’s most dramatic. Does God change with circumstances? Do His attributes mutate with the ebbs and flows of life happenings—good and bad? Hardly! God alone remains consistent, tried, and true. He alone secures us in His truth as our Rock and Strong Tower. But the manifestation of His power into our minds depends on what we choose to believe. Elijah, like so many of us, accepted God’s power, truth, and love when life steered according to plan. But the second events changed, his reserve did too. He (consciously or not) traded belief in God for belief in himself—he doubted God’s ability to save and decided running away was his best bet. The circumstances changed, but God didn’t. Elijah changed his mind; yet God refused to change His accordingly. Despite Elijah’s schizophrenic tendencies, God patiently wooed him and reestablished His anointing on Elijah’s life. And behold the Lord was passing by! And a great and strong wind was rending the mountains and breaking in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind. And after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of a gentle blowing…” 1 Kings 19:11-12 He loves us. His love reaches far beyond our capability of screwing up. He loves independently of our response, and His comfort engulfs us even if we can’t recognize it. Life’s about Him, not about us. We do ourselves a favor to recognize that and interpret circumstances through the clear lens of His sovereignty rather than the broken, sin-saturated lenses of this world. He works out His gospel through both smooth sailing and murky waters. Our lives exist to extend the glory of His gospel, and we only embrace such a calling when we realize its grand scope in comparison to our frail lives. Get out of your box and embrace His. Let His gospel dictate your reactions to life’s circumstances, not the other way around. And never doubt in the dark what God shows you in the light. Reality TV reveals the most egregious pitfalls of humanity. We waste hours of our lives watching programs that arguably decrease the amount of brain cells in our otherwise functioning brains. Some of us watch shows dedicated to stalking rich families as they engage in outrageous drama, while others stare with gruesome curiosity at scenes within a home whose owner is a hoarder.
Of course, reality TV isn’t the only form of debilitating nonsense available on TV or in media at large. Soap operas, gossip magazines, various forms of music and talk shows hypnotize us with their warped perceptions of reality just the same. One box-like electronic device sitting in homes enslaves families and transforms minds into waste dumps. Magazines lying casually on tables reach into our minds and captivate them with the material being advertised. Music flowing throughout a room or car wraps itself around our thoughts and injects the content into our perspectives and worldviews. Media is powerful. It at once sucks us in, repulses us, informs us, twists our perspectives, encourages us, enrages us, and draws out every emotion conceivable. Most of the time, this remains an unseen process. Our reactions to media aren’t often conscious; we simply find ourselves as bait being pulled through murky waters. Before we get too carried away, media is not inherently immoral. Some outlets are, to be sure, but others remain morally neutral (like sports), and a small few actually dedicate themselves to spiritual growth and maturity. Engaging in media does not ban us to hell. God doesn’t hate us or think we’re less spiritual if we watch TV, nor are we condemned for listening to rap music or dancing. (King David danced all the time by the way, but that’s another topic for another time.) Though powerful, media itself is neutral. Our job is to discern how best to engage it. Exercising our Christian faith is like walking up a downward escalator. As bona fide sinners and justified saints, we wrestle with the Romans 7 tension of walking in accordance with the Gospel while tripping over potholes and boulders thrown at us from the enemy. We often act like we don’t want to, and then don’t act the way we want to. We get confused, disoriented, turned-round and thrown up-side down. The only way to remain in Christ (and consequently run from sin) is to abide in Christ via the Gospel. That means immersing ourselves daily in His truth and saturating our minds with His plans and purposes. Media plays a huge role in our conquests of faith. More often than not, it proves to be an agent distracting us from the Gospel. Instead of contemplating on the truths of Scripture, we squander our time by filling our minds with worthless information, empty plotlines, and transparent worldly promises. Our lives are short. We receive very little time on earth to engage and thrive in faith. We’re given one chance to learn about the greatest display of love and grace this world has ever known (the Gospel), and one designated amount of time to respond to it. Reponses range in size and form, including our rest and work, fun and discipline, freedom and discernment. The challenge we face with media is one of balance and purpose. Is our time with media held in proper balance to the rest of our lives? Do we find ourselves engaging more with it than we do with our families and/or with God? Are we being purposeful with media or are we letting it define our purpose? Are we diligently discerning the media outlets we fancy? Or do we watch, listen, and read whatever we want whenever we want without a critical view? The under girding question in our relationships with media is this: Is media a means through which we worship or an end in which God is ignored? It can’t be both. As Paul states in Romans 8, “The mind set on the flesh is death, but the mind set on the Spirit is life and peace.” All media should be used to zoom in our focus to Christ, not divert our attention to the peripheral vision of our perishing world. Ask Him to shift your focus to Christ first using any method available—even media. Let Him be the end we pursue, and media remain a means through which it’s accomplished. Patience ranks high among virtues, just not virtues common to Americans. Fast-paced-give-it-to-me-now living ravages America and impartially reaches to church families within. Moving brands us with its distinctive mark, and we often find ourselves impatient as a result.
Waiting five seconds for a car to accelerate when the light turns green causes our blood to start boiling. Shopping warps itself into a hunting experience—especially during the holiday season. Parking lots display the depravity of human functioning, busy stores reveal the impetuous nature of their clientele, and we target check-out lines like prey—looking for the shortest ones to pounce on. Even the most uncompetitive of citizens discovers their impatient vice when thrust into stressful situations. We invest time, energy, and finances into making our images appear cool, calm and composed. But get us in the crosshairs of the taut, and we crumble into insecure, tantrum-throwing individuals who refuse to stop until we get our way. Now, tantrums manifest themselves in many shapes and sizes. No once-size-fits-all tagline applies to the conniption fits we exercise when life happens in un-us-approved ways. Some of us turn inward and critical—judging everyone we see and holding them to a self-imposed standard of acceptance. Others lash out bearing remarkable resemblance to a two year-old embarking on his quest to make his parents miserable. Regardless of venue, all of us throw tantrums of impatience that result in hurt and pain—mostly to ourselves. FAUX ENTITLEMENT Behind every tantrum—big or small, quiet or loud, conscience or not—lurks a sense of entitlement. We throw fits first and foremost because we don’t get our way. If someone cuts in front of us in line we get upset because we feel entitled to that spot. We erroneously think we deserve it because we stood there first. If someone takes it, we subconsciously translate their action personally as if their mission in life is to make ours miserable. In reality, that individual remains clueless to their action (after all, many people live in the realm of oblivion). But their ignorance matters not because we’re too entrenched in our own psyches of entitlement to recognize their oblivion and let it go. All human entitlement exists only in the minds of fallen sinners. It’s simply a false premise. Sin consumes our deepest core making us entitled to only one entity—hell. Sounds harsh, thanks to society saturates which us with the false premise of our goodness and “rights” as individuals. Surprise surprise, society misses the mark. The truth of Scripture (albeit depressing) asserts our entitlement to nothing except the hell we deserve as punishment for our sin. Of course, the depth of despair realized in this point fades away when acknowledging the all-encompassing nature of God’s grace through the Gospel. Jesus Christ traded places with us. He became our punishment so we could receive the eternal life and blessings with God He secured for us long ago. Our entitlement in anything rests in Christ’s entitlement of glory. Christ deserves everything, and in Him we receive the blessings of His entitlement. Sin strips us of deserving anything good in this world, but God’s grace through Christ bestows good upon us anyway not because we deserve it, but because we stand in the sacrifice of the only One who does. GOD’S PLAN These truths flesh out with immense ramifications in our lives, particularly in our dealings with society. But one more piece must be addressed to complete the antidote to impatience and frustration. If the world hates you, you know that it has hated Me before it hated you. If you were of the world, the world would love its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, because of this the world hates you…these things I have spoken to you, so that in Me you may have peace. In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world. John 15: 18-19; 6:33 Jesus clarifies a HUGE truth in these verses…our expectations of life in this world must mirror His. Only Jesus deserves God’s unhindered blessing and favor. Said blessing and favor transfer to us because we rest in the finished sacrifice of Christ and His Gospel. BUT this world is not the venue God chooses to unleash His blessing and favor to us. When we accept Christ personally as our Lord and Savior, we receive citizenship in heaven and begin investing in eternity first, in this world second. Our expectations in this world (should) reflect that. This world rejected Christ; we should expect no different. Such readjusted expectations jerk the rug of faux entitlement out from beneath of feet. Every time we prize truth in Christ above the lies of this world, we receive peace. No circumstance, tragedy, crisis or trial strips us of the peace God offers us in Christ as we rest in His promise of hope and courage for overcoming the world. WAITING… Unfortunately peace infrequently alleviates pain during hardships in life. Knowing truth rarely translates into experiencing the joy God offers us without extensive help. Just because we know life will trip us up with pain hardly makes experiencing it a gleeful event. Times of intense pain thrust us into the tension of faith—believing what we can’t see. We exercise faith in situations forcing us to trust God’s heart when we can’t see His hands. The process painfully awakens us to the reality of sin and its gross consequences. We cry, struggle, question God and plead with Him for answers, all too often only to discover His silence for a time. The option afforded us is patience. We wait on the Lord, trusting His heart and promises while He carries us through the pain and chaos. Times like these force us to break away from faux entitlement and realize our identity and purpose in Christ. Surrendering to Him may not ease the pain like we desire, but He will submerge us in His peace and comfort. Hurry up and wait on Jesus. Embrace His truth to the degree of forfeiting any sense of faux entitlement you’ve erroneously accumulated from this world. Look beyond this world to Him and let His truth be the lenses through which you perceive this life and all its pain. It won’t be easy, but it’s only worth it. Christians share many attributes in common with non-Christians (we’re all people, after all). One particularly futile attribute we wrestle with regards our fascination with the unknown, particularly our future. Most of us stand ready to trade treasured items for a glimpse into our futures (should the opportunity present itself). Our calls may not flood psychic hotlines, but the thought crosses our minds and we strive after any clue or hint of evidence that may serve as a portal into the future.
Our fascination with the future betrays hidden transgressions in our hearts, such as lack of trust in God or ill contentment with our current lives. We convince ourselves all worries would melt away if we only knew what the future held. Knowing the future creates greater opportunity for trusting God and submitting to His will, we believe. Surely knowing His glorious purposes for our lives grows our faith and increases our love for Him a hundred-fold! A man named Hosea might disagree. Hosea prophesied God’s truth to a kingdom whose tenants flagrantly turned their backs on their Savior. The life of a prophet in the Old Testament hardly qualified as a desirable occupation; Hosea’s amplified that reputation. When the Lord first spoke through Hosea, the Lord said to Hosea, “Go, take to yourself a wife of harlotry and have children of harlotry; for the land commits flagrant harlotry, forsaking the Lord.” Hosea 1:2 Before letting romantic tingles consume your emotion-prone heart, God’s command to Hosea bears no romance. Hosea marries a prostitute, not out of love or an enthralling story of rescue, but because he’s commanded to do so by the Lord. Love at first sight evaded Hosea and his wife. Their marriage mirrored God’s “marriage” to His people Israel (not a lovely relationship by any means). Hosea’s understanding of his marriage and purpose therein stood clear. God cued Hosea into His plan and purposes—how He intended to carry out His will in and through Hosea’s life and marriage. Did Hosea embrace this calling with open arms and an eager heart? Seems unlikely. His obedience divulges the depth of his faith in God, but moving forward in such a situation could not have been easy. Other lives in Scripture reveal the less than glamorous appeal of knowing the future before it happens as well. Consider John the Baptist. He received no divine insight into his future regarding specific happenings, yet arguably preferred it that way if given the choice. We often admire John the Baptist with slight envy when contemplating his life. But what about the way it ended? But when Herod’s birthday came, the daughter of Herodias danced before them and pleased Herod, so much that he promised with an oath to give her whatever she asked. Having been prompted by her mother, she said, “Give me here on a platter the head of John the Baptist.” Although he was grieved, the king commanded it to be given because of his oaths, and because of his dinner guests. He sent and had John beheaded in prison. Matthew 14:6-10 Do we envy his death—beheaded by a vindictive queen at the drunken pledge by the king? If God allowed John the Baptist to behold all his future, would he pursue Christ as wholeheartedly? No one possesses insight to answer such a question, but it creates an opportunity for deep reflection regardless. Chances remain solid that martyrdom evades most of our futures. But martyrdom scarcely echoes the only form of tribulation we encounter on earth. God’s silence about our individual futures actually constitutes as a measure of grace. Uncertainty of details allows us to enjoy the ride far more than intimate knowledge would. On one hand, He spares us from the dread of impending rough patches. On the other hand, we receive the blessing of enriched spontaneity when blessings rain down in blissful drops—one after the other. Remaining unaware of the specific revelation of our future mostly ends well. We enjoy life far more exercising our trust and faith in God than we would if we seized a portal of the inevitable. However, what we lack in vision regarding specific revelation of our individual lives, God makes up for in general revelation of the Gospel and our future in Him. We may hobble about in life from one trial to the next, but through every hardship we face we possess inexplicable peace derived from certainty in our ultimate destiny. Knowing our ultimate future in God secured in the sacrifice in Christ permits us to live life to the fullest here and now. Because Jesus overcame the world and currently waits to consummate the kingdom He inaugurated in His first coming, we live in His victory. The world controls its own, and we belong not to the world, but to its Creator. Our eternal future lies in His incomprehensible grace guarded by the impenetrable covering of Christ’s sacrifice through the Gospel. In light of our everlasting future in glory, knowing details that die with this life ceases to matter. Let the omniscient One know enough for you. Trust His heart and Word even when you can’t trace His hand. Enjoy the beautiful, enthralling life He yearns to walk you through. That’s all you really need (and ever want) to know. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. Archives
September 2023
Categories |
RSS Feed