Of Hearts and Slaves

I'm not sure how to present these thoughts except as they presented themselves to me...so hang on, reader!  This may be a bumpy ride!

So, yesterday, I was talking with my good friend Denise (I'm pretty sure she wouldn't mind me mentioning her in this...I mean, does anybody read these anyway?) and we were discussing a complicated problem that's developed in the campus ministry we're a part of.  Legalism seems to have crept in and it's not isolated to any one area or one person.  One of the areas of legalism she mentioned (which I, for obvious reasons, was not aware of) was the burdensome expectations placed on married women.  Too much emphasis is placed on verses like 1 Peter 3:1, which encourage wives to obey their husbands and not enough is placed on verses like 1 Peter 3:7 and Ephesians 5:25, which command husbands to love their wives with compassion, understanding, and sacrificial devotion.  The result is that husbands commonly tyrannize their wives (sometimes doing so by simple ignorance) and the wives docilely try to just accept the abuse and submit every aspect of their lives (down to coffee-dates with their girl-friends) to their husband's micro-mismanagement.  I have witnessed this myself, which may also be why married couples in this ministry seem to fight more and love less than any Christian couples I've ever seen (and, ironically, some of their leaders think to use the "strength of this ministry's marriages" as a bragging point and a way to bolster their case for legalism...all these young marriages could meanwhile turn into time-bombs if they're not carefully repaired).

I felt for Denise, and for my other married friends.  It's not the sort of feeling one should have, feeling sorry for someone who's gotten married or fallen in love, but unfortunately, the circumstances justified it.  Pretty soon, though I was thinking of my own life.  I'm single, and have been for nearly 22 years running, but I don't plan to be forever.  In fact, it probably won't be that many years before it's my turn to wait at the altar.  What if this happened in my life?  What if people told my someday-future-wife that godliness in a married woman equated with subservience?  The thought makes my heart heavy.  Perhaps some men--twisted men--want to marry a woman who'll be a slave to their every whim (that is to say, a woman who is not a woman, but more of a pet or a toy), but the thought holds no pleasure for me at all.  I have always longed for a companion, a partner, a mate, a helper, to stand beside me--not beneath me or above me.  This is, I believe, as the Bible says it should be, as it was in the beginning (and lest the archaic "help-meet" of Genesis 2:18 should sound too subservient to you, remember that the same word for "help" is used to describe God's great interventions in the Psalms).  I know as a man leading is my assigned role.  I accept that.  But it's hard enough to lead properly (keeping the self-sacrificial leadership of Christ in mind--Who, as a leader, washed His disciple's feet) without someone trying to pressure you into tyranny.  Tyranny is never good, for Christ is never a tyrant. Further, a dynamic of tyranny and subservience in a marriage can only shut down the wife's heart (supposing, of course, that it is she who is being tyrannized).  To me, the whole point of a relationship (even and especially in marriage) as a man is to win the woman's heart.  A slave's heart, though, is shut down, imprisoned, and impossible to win.  There is no point to such a relationship, and there is no godliness to it at all.  In order to win a heart, it must first be set free.  I've never done this, but from seeing this done to my own heart by God (He is winning my heart) I know that freeing someone's heart is messy and dangerous.  All kinds of crud can come out that's been locked up and festering in there for ages, and there's no telling how or when it will come out.  It takes a great deal of compassion and self-sacrifice to lay aside your own plans for the moment in order to heal the hurt that's just been exposed.  The cost of this sort of thing is, I imagine, very very high...but the reward is even greater, for there is no greater prize than the heart of one you love.  I hope and pray that my love can understand this and not allow herself to be tyrannized.

But I speak of things I know nothing about, yes?  Like I said, I've never been in a relationship with a girl.  The only relationship I've ever been in is with my Lord and Savior, Jesus.  Remembering that brings me to wondering if these thoughts about married life have any application to my spiritual life.  I find that they do.  So often when we come to Christ, we are overawed by His divinity and offer ourselves to Him as slaves.  Often, we do this in ignorance and try to interpret harsh commands from Him to conform our lives to.  I know that once this described my spiritual life pretty well.  I would read God's Word and mostly just encounter all sorts of commands I wasn't following.  I would cringe, bow my head, and beg God for mercy, promising that I would be a better slave next time.  But Christ, in His mercy, calls us to something better.  The disciples called Him "Lord" and "Master," but He called them "friends" (John 13:14 and 15:15).  We come cringing to Him as slaves, and He invites us to sit with Him in his throne (Revelation 3:21).  We come asking for no credit, only begging not to be punished, and He gives us a share in His glory.  It seems that Christ, in His love and His humanity, is not interested in a slave any more than I am.  Perhaps all He really wants to do is walk beside us, and win our hearts.

Where David Found His Strength

I started a study into the life of King David yesterday, starting in 1 Samuel 16.  This morning, I read chapter 17, which contains the famous account of David's battle with Goliath.

Most everyone is familiar with the story of David and Goliath, at least to some extent, but for those who aren't, a brief recap.  At this point in history, the ancient kingdom of Israel was at war with the kingdoms of the Philistines.  The Philistines had just invaded and camped their army near an Israelite town.  The army of Israel had likewise camped nearby and both armies prepared to do battle.  However, at this point Goliath--a Philistine champion--came forward and challenged anyone in Israel to single combat to determine the outcome of the war.  Not surprisingly, Goliath didn't have any takers.  According the the Bible, he was a trained warrior from his youth and stood over nine feet tall.  He was armored all in bronze (with his coat of mail alone weighing 125 pounds) and armed with a sword and a gigantic spear with an iron head (which was especially intimidating since this took place in the late Bronze Age, when iron was the toughest metal known to mankind).  Not surprisingly, everyone in Israel was afraid of him and none of them dared enter single combat with him.

At least, until David came.  David was not a soldier at this point, or even king.  He was just a shepherd running an errand for his dad.  Yet he happened upon the scene when Goliath was making his boastful challenge to the Israelite army and he volunteered to take on the giant.  Since David was not a trained soldier, he was unable to go out in armor against Goliath so he instead faced him in his everyday clothes, armed only with his shepherd's staff and a sling with five smooth stones.  He went out to meet Goliath looking like a kid with a derringer going out to fight an Abrams tank.  Goliath laughed at the sight of him...and then stopped laughing abruptly as David's sling-stone found his unarmored forehead and fatally concussed him.  The gigantic warrior toppled at the shepherd boy's feet and the rest is history.

What I found interesting in my reading, though, was where each of the characters looked for strength.  Goliath  clearly found his source of strength in himself--and why wouldn't he?  The man was the flesh-tone equivalent of the Hulk!  He could have taken any man in Israel in single combat, and probably have defeated several at once as well.  In his challenge, he shouts, "I defy the armies of Israel this day," and clearly he thinks he's strong enough to do it.

The Israelites, similarly, were looking for strength in themselves and each other.  Though they were no where near as strong as Goliath, they looked to their own resources for strength for that was--seemingly--all they had.  They even used this attitude to evaluate David when he volunteered to fight the giant, saying to him, "You are not able to go against this Philistine to fight with him, for you are but a youth, and he has been a man of war from his youth."  They compared what strength they could find in themselves to the evident strength of Goliath and found themselves wanting--and thus dared not to oppose the giant.

But David is different.  Though he is nowhere near as strong as Goliath, and he is fully aware of this fact, he does not shirk from confronting him.  In the face of Goliath's incredible power, Israel quails but David remains confident.  His confidence is not foolish bravado any more than his victory is dumb luck.  His confidence and his victory come from his source of strength--which is greater than that of Goliath.  In verse 45, David reveals where he finds his strength when he answers Goliath's challenge by saying, "You come at me with a sword and with a spear and with a javelin, but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied."  David does not look in himself for his source of strength.  He does not gauge his skill, fortitude, and experience against that of his opponent.  Rather, he looks to God has his source of strength.  He is confident that God will give him the victory because he believes that God will fight the battle through him--and God is far more powerful than the Philistine.  Goliath may be six feet tall, but God's vastness cannot be contained by any physical dimensions.  Goliath may be wearing enough armor to stop a bronze arrow or a sword cut, but God can stop a storm with one word and no weapon ever made is capable of harming Him.  Goliath may have the latest and greatest in iron-tipped spears, but God has the ability to unleash hail, lightning, disease, earthquakes, world-drowning floods, and firey apocalypses beyond human imagination at will.  Against such an opponent, Goliath doesn't stand a chance, and David knows it.

But what about us, as Christians in our daily lives and particularly in our trials.  Where do we find our strength?  When we face temptations or challenges or stressful situations, where are we looking for our source of power?  By what means do we measure our chances of success?

I have to say in my own life that, too often, I find myself looking for strength where the Israelites looked.  I compare the allurements of lust to my own willpower, and whatever checks and fail-safes I may have put in place (like an accountability partners).  Right now, that's a recipe for disaster: as I only have one accountability partner right now who hasn't held me accountable in months and my exhausted willpower is so often no more match for an alluring clip from the web than an Israelite soldier was for Goliath.  When under stress, I compare my work-pace and quality against the demands of an assignment and its deadline.  This, of course, increases my stress as I try to work like a dog to make up the difference--or else give up in despair.  When looking at my finances, I compare my meager income to my current and (rapidly mounting) future expenses--which explains why I generally avoid thinking about my finances.  All around in my life I face challenges that are too big for me, at least, when I look at my own strength.

I want to be more like David, who looked not at his own strength for the battle, but counted on God.  God is not swayed by lust or pornography, since He created the forms and desires these crudely twist and emulate.  God is not stressed out by the demands of my work: in seven days He created the entire universe--and He took one of them off.  He owns all the wealth in the world--and owns the world, too--and He is not afraid of my financial burden, which is puny by comparison.

Now, this is not to say that I can or should just slack off and wait for God to do everything.  This is not the way David found his strength.  He did not sit back in the camp and wait for God to strike Goliath down with a bolt of lightning while he watched.  Instead, he engaged the giant, counting on God's strength to work through him and win the victory.  So also, I must face my struggles personally and engage them, but not through a trust in my own devices.  Instead, I must attack my problems with the courage and boldness that comes with the knowledge that Jesus has already overcome them.

Why I listen: A partial response to a fan of Kevin DeYoung's "Just Do Something"

This summer I've spent in conversational intimacy with God.  Now, as a new semester approaches, I face a choice of whether or not to let this go on.  Many people do not believe this kind of relationship with God is possible, some of my friends even.  Last fall, when I mentioned hearing from God on a particular decision, one of my friends, a leader in my church, told me that was not possible: God doesn't ever work that way, he said.  He pointed me to a book he'd read which explained why God didn't: Kevin DeYoung's "Just Do Something: a liberating approach to finding God's will."

Now, to be fair, this isn't what DeYoung's book says at all.  In fact, he devotes an entire chapter to making the point that, yes, God does sometimes work that way.  He is, after all, God and quite capable of doing whatever He pleases however He wants to do it.  The Bible abounds with examples of His talking to people, whether in conversational intimacy, through the mediation of prophets or angels, or by signs and wonders.  Kevin DeYoung is simply making the point that often Christians seek to hear God for the wrong reasons, especially in decision making, and that this makes such Christians very poor decision-makers.  For this reason, DeYoung advises Christians not to wait around listening for God to tell them what to do in every situation but rather to take advantage of scripture, Godly council, and prayer to make godly decisions with the resources God has already given them.  He doesn't say that God won't give special personal direction, nor does he say that Christians should never seek it.

My friend, however, would, and apparently gets his argument from this book.  In it, four basic reasons are cited for why Christians listen for God to speak into their decision-making process.  I want to see how these apply in my own life:

(1) We want to please God: No one will argue that this is a legitimate reason for doing something, though they may disagree with what it is we're doing.  In my own life, this is definitely a reason why I seek conversational intimacy with God and listen to Him in decisions.  I want to make sure I please Him in my decisions and my daily life.  Yet this is not (when I phrase it that way) the strongest reason why I do this.  I am not afraid that the decisions I make on my own (as it were) will be so horribly displeasing to Him.  After all, while I admit I'm a sinner, I know how to carry on a "normal" Christian life without special revelation to guide me.

(2) We are timid or cowardly: These are listed separately in the book, but lumping them together makes sense.  Basically, we hesitate and ask God because we're afraid of making the wrong decision or a decision that might get us hurt.  In regard to wrong decisions, this does relate to why I sometimes seek God.  I want to make sure I'm not about to screw up, but this, I find, is the wrong reason.  I should not be afraid of making mistakes, and I find that, looking back on my life and how God has used various events to lead me to where I am, sometimes He has used learning from my mistakes as a part of his will in my life.  Therefore seeking His will in order to avoid mistakes may not be effective.  It is particularly ineffective at avoiding a costly-but-right decision, however, as I will explain.

(3) We are searching for perfect fulfillment in life: that is, we try to listen for God in our decision-making because we believe God will lead us to a charmed life of all pleasure and no pain.  This, I can firmly say, is not a reason why I listen for God in my decisions, or seek intimacy with Him at all.  This myth (and the book is right in saying it is a myth) is firmly busted in my mind.  The Bible is clear that God uses hardship to refine us and that our enemies in this world will give us no rest if we follow Him.  That is something God reminds me of often, and often I find He is right.  What He directs me to do is often not easy and sometimes painful.  Sometimes, just relating to Him at all is painful.  There are wounds in my heart I would rather let lie: they don't hurt as much when they're festering.  God, however, is sure to bring them up and do some healing (which, until it's done, hurts like none other!).  This is not why I seek Him out.

(4) We have too many choices: that is, we listen to God because we're indecisive, waffling through too many options, and we want to use God as a device to simplify things and narrow down our options, or just plain make the decision for us because we're too lazy to do the dirty work.  I admit that sometimes I do use this as my reason for listening for God.  When I do, it is selfish and wrong...and He generally doesn't answer.

I find that, really, my main reason, the one that keeps me listening, the one that will keep me listening throughout the coming fall, is that I want God to have my heart.  I guess you could call this a subdivision of wanting to please Him, but it isn't as worded in the book.  I don't listen simply because I want the end decision to please God, I want the process to please Him.  More to the point, I want my heart during the process (and throughout daily life) to please Him.  Conversational intimacy with God has and does make me aware of His presence and sovereignty in my life as I wasn't previously.  That effects my heart.  It helps me give it to Him in the moment, whether He gives special direction or leaves the decision up to me (even when I listen, He does that sometimes).  I want to give my heart to Him, to love Him, and that is a Biblical command.  This intimacy with Him helps me to do that, and so I will continue to listen for His voice.