Who Carries Whom?

I was reading this section in Isaiah the other day, Isaiah 46:1-4.

Bel bows down; Nebo stoops; their idols are on beasts and livestock; these things you carry are borne as burdens on weary beasts.  They stoop; they bow down together; they cannot save the burden, but themselves go into captivity.
"Listen to me, O house of Jacob, all the remnant of the house of Israel, who have been borne by me from before your birth, carried from the womb; even to your old age I am he, and to gray hairs I will carry you. I have made, and I will bear; I will carry and will save."

Bel and Nebo are Babylonian gods.  Bel is the title of Marduk, the patron-god of Babylon and the head of their pantheon and Nebo is his son, who became the chief god of the Assyrians.  Every year, the statue of Nebo would be taken to to the temple of Bel Marduk so that the gods could commune together as father and son.  When they were moved like this, the idols were literally burdens carried by weary beasts through the streets and down the roads.  Their gods were literally burdens to be borne by their worshipers.

From the distance of a couple thousand years, we may sit back and laugh at the foolishness of these worshipers.  Their gods were works of art, carved pieces of stone, cast pieces of metal.  Their followers had to move them, position them, clean them, and often took things further by "feeding" them--though of course they could not make the food disappear by themselves.  The idols were more helpless than even infants, and obviously were impotent to actually do anything for their followers.  Certainly we are more enlightened than they: we have no idols of stone or metal.

But sometimes, I think we are not so different.  Really, who bears the responsibility in our relationship with God?  We may no longer have to move around a big statue of Him, but are we obligated to serve Him in other ways?  Is He burdensome?  Are we compelled to carry Him out to the mission field, because He cannot find new converts Himself?  Are we required to give Him our money because He cannot provide for Himself?  Are we forced to inform Him of our needs and those of the people and world around us in prayer because He cannot find them out for Himself?  Whose responsibility is it to keep up the relationship?  Is it us,  striving forever to please a God who apparently cannot satisfy Himself?  Is it us, being oh-so-careful not to upset His delicate sensibilities?  If this is so, our God is a burdensome one indeed, borne about by feeble creatures like us--and probably of little help to us.

But this God is not the God of the Bible.  It is the God of the Bible who speaks out at the ridiculous procession of the burdensome gods, Bel and Nebo...who speaks still at our burdensome gods.  What He says is simply amazing.  When all the world is full of gods who are burdens, who need someone to care for and carry them, the God of the Bible says: "I will carry you!"  In fact, He has carried us, and He will, from birth to our old age.  He carries us; He cares for us.  He gives us the words and the opportunities to join Him on the mission field, where He is already at work finding new converts Himself.  He provides us with money and the strength to earn it, and asks in return only that we remember Who it came from and use it accordingly.  He knows everything.  He knows every problem and every word we will say in prayer, and so brings about answers to our prayers before we even say them.  Yet He asks us to pray to Him about our concerns anyway, so that we will remember that He already has them well in hand and we'll stop worrying about them.  He has laid it on Himself to keep up our relationship.  He made it possible by His redeeming blood.  He sustains it by the Holy Spirit and His own faithful nature: He cannot deny Himself.  He appeased His own demands in Christ, because He saw that we were incapable of doing so.  Though we offended Him deeply, He appeased His own sense of justice on the tree and now He freely offers forgiveness for our every wrong.

It seems to me a huge contrast between a god that I must carry, and the God Who carries me.  The former I may strive forever to appease and never see any benefit from.  But the latter, has done everything to be with me and loads me with benefits daily, such that I can never count them all.  This is the God who carries us!

Something's Different...

I've noticed in the last month or so that there's something different in my relationship with God.  If you've read a few of my "Great Romance" labeled posts, especially the early ones, you know what I'm talking about.  The change, in any case, was difficult for me to pin down at first.  Something was different, better, but we still had the same struggles and challenges...still do, in fact.  I would get busy and start trying to overcome obstacles in my life solo, and He would have to break through my walls and get my attention.  He would ask me to do something, and I would object because of some arbitrary standard or fear.  We'd have our tiffs.  We also had our moments of nearness and affection.  All of this was familiar from months and even years ago, though there were always new surprises, new twists and discoveries.  Nothing was in a rut, really, but the pattern of our relationship remained unchanged.  But something else had changed.

It took me a while to figure out that what had changed was my attitude.  It really struck me when I revisited a song I'd used in one of my earlier posts, "Arms"  by Christina Perri.  The song is about a woman who questions her lover's affections and their relationship, thinking that she isn't good enough for him.  She throws up walls against him and tries to break away from him, to spare him, but he always comes for her, holding her and refusing to let her go.  She always seems surprised by this, by the fact that he loves her even though she thinks life would be easier for him if he didn't.  When I wrote that post, I could sing that song with prefect empathy for the woman: that was how I felt about my relationship with God.  I felt like I didn't deserve Him, like it would be so much easier on Him if He were to just give up on me...and I was always surprised when He didn't.  But the other day when I sang the same song, I no longer felt as the woman did.  I might still think that it would be easier on God if He didn't love me so--sometimes--, but I was no longer surprised that He did, no longer ready to insist that He stop for His own good.  I knew it was pointless.  I knew that He loved me in spite of all the pain I caused Him, and that He had no intention of letting me go.

That in and of itself is a change.  I have believed from my childhood in eternal security: the Once-Saved-Always-Saved position.  From the age of six, at the latest, I'd stopped any serious questioning of whether or not I'd actually been saved the night I accepted Christ.  I believed I was going to heaven.  I believed Jesus loved me.  From halfway through my college career, I knew that God wanted a real relationship with me that included talking with me, sharing my frustrations and joys, and sharing affection and intimacy.  This last had been totally unexpected to me (I'd always thought before that the whole "relationship with God" thing was mostly just a catch-phrase to jazz up rote prayers and regular church attendance--having a relationship with God that looked and behaved more like a romantic pursuit than anything else seemed absurd; when I first realized that description fit my interaction with God more accurately, I feared for my sanity).  But knowing all these things and believing them is different from understanding them in your heart.  Head-knowledge doesn't give confidence, but heart-knowledge does.

That described a lot of the change in my relationship.  I wasn't afraid any more.  I didn't think that God might decide to up and leave at any moment or leave the relationship to stagnate in a quagmire.  I knew He cared too much for that, that He never would, and I drew comfort from that.  There was confidence and boldness, too.  Not only did I know that He'd decided to stick it out through thick and thin with me, I accepted His decision.  I couldn't and can't always see the logic behind it, but I accept that it must be there and that it's His decision to make.  As a result, I am not, like the woman, constantly going about trying to sever the relationship for good.  I know I can't.  I still build walls, but I now build them half expecting them to come down any minute as He comes crashing through.  I object when it happens, but I quickly accept it and move on.

This means more change in my attitude every day.  I'm no longer scandalized by His words of love, I accept them and even flirt back.  I no longer argue that He shouldn't get me gifts, I accept them with gratitude even if I can't quite see why He's giving them to me.  The change has affected the relationship as a whole.  I'd describe it as more settled, more mature.  There are still surprises and drama, but I'm no longer expecting the whole thing to fly apart any minute, or any time soon.  Now, deeper issues can be worked on and deeper intimacy enjoyed.

The oddest part about this change is its timing, but I don't think it's coincidental.  This change, this deepening and stabilizing of our relationship comes at a time when I haven't been in church in literally months, am not attending Christian activities of any kind (both of these due to my schedule), and have been off a daily Bible reading plan for over a year.  All the kinds of things I would have expected to be necessary to deepen my relationship with Christ are totally absent from my life.  The only thing there is Christ, and I think He's bringing a message by allowing my heart to settle in with Him under these precise circumstances: the only thing I need is Christ, everything else may be good, but He alone is sufficient.

Where Does Our Guidance Come From?

Today, I reorganized my room--at least up until the point where I ran out of shelf space to reorganize onto.  I have far too many books, or else far too few places to put them.  I gravitate toward the latter explanation, personally.

While I was sorting through things, though, I happened upon a booklet called This Legacy of Leaders by Rick Whitney: "a Great Commission Northwest book" the title page declares.  I remember that a dear friend of mine gave me this booklet to read some months ago.  It was very important to him.  He was the leader of my small group at church and he thought the booklet would help me understand more about leadership.  At the time, we were sadly in conflict over the topic of leadership.  He saw himself, as a leader, as having the authority to tell me how I ought to handle my personal relationship with another member of our group.  I saw him as only having the authority to advise on the matter, with the final say being God's, not his.  Sadly, this conflict escalated into a big relational blowout that damaged and severed several friendships before I even opened the cover of this little booklet.  Afterwards, I didn't want to open it and be reminded.

But now, the past is sufficiently past.  I opened the little booklet and began to read.  Rick opens by addressing the reader as a "future leader" and reminds them of the great debt they owe to previous leaders, teachers, and mentors.  His opening sentence: "Every man who has ever done anything for God has had teachers and leaders."  Of the Great Commission movement, he states, "We strongly hold to the truth that leaders are shaped by leaders [emphasis original]."  From his description, a great Christian leader owes his existence to a great chain of previous leaders who devoted their time to training up successors in the faith.  Indeed, he claims, "Leaders don't just 'spring out of the weeds.'  Someone has invested their heard and shared their life with every pastor who is now 'on the wall.'"

What immediately occurred to me was that this was true, but insufficient.  Indeed, the claims could and have easily be made by non-Christian leaders.  Sir Isaac Newton is often quoted as saying, "If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of giants" about his findings in the field of science and the influence his forebears had upon it.  In 1st Century Israel, the Pharisees traced their knowledge and their doctrines back to an oral tradition reportedly handed down from teacher to teacher, leader to leader, from Moses himself.  And yet Jesus didn't have much of anything good to say about the Pharisees.  The passing down of knowledge from one generation to the next is certainly important, but it is not sufficient to make a Christian leader great.  Garbage and baggage is as easily passed from generation to generation as wisdom and truth.  Without the influence of the Spirit of Truth, a simple chain of nobly-minded men passing on guidance from generation to generation would (and has, in many cases) fall victim to this fact and eventually wind up with as much garbage and baggage as wisdom and truth.  In fact, if the chain does not start with the Holy Spirit, then all you have is garbage all the way down.  That the Holy Spirit is capable of starting such a chain independently of any existing leaders is demonstrated by the life of the Apostle Paul, who says of himself:

"I would have you know, brothers, that the gospel that was preached by me is not man's gospel.  For I did not receive it from any man, nor was I taught it, but I received it through a revelation of Jesus Christ.  ...when he who had set me apart before I was born, and who called me by his grace, was pleased to reveal his Son to me, in order that I might preach him among the Gentiles, I did not immediately consult with anyone; nor did I go up to Jerusalem to those who were apostles before me, but I went away into Arabia, and returned again to Damascus.  Then after three years I went up to Jerusalem to visit Cephas and remained with him fifteen days.  But I saw none of the other apostles except James the Lord's brother.  (In what I am writing to you, before God, I do not lie!)  Then I went into the regions of Syria and Cilicia.  And I was still unknown in person to the churches of Judea that are in Christ.  ...Then after fourteen years I went up again to Jerusalem...because of a revelation and set before them (though privately before those who seemed influential) the gospel that I proclaim among the Gentiles, in order to make sure I was not running or had not run in vain.  ....those, I say, who seemed influential added nothing to me.  On the contrary, when they saw that I had been entrusted with the gospel to the uncircumcised, just as Peter had been entrusted with the gospel to the circumcised (for he who worked through Peter for his apostolic ministry to the circumcised worked also through me for mine to the Gentiles), and when James and Cephas and John, who seemed to be pillars, perceived the grace that was given to me, they gave the right hand of fellowship to Barnabas and me, that we should go to the Gentiles and they to the circumcised."

--Galatians 1:11-12, 15-22; 2:1-2, 6-9

Thus Paul had no heritage of Christian leaders he could look back on: he had only the guidance of the Holy Spirit.  Paul did not learn the gospel from the apostles and influential men in the church at Jerusalem, but only met them later, after his own ministry and leadership were already in full swing, and they affirmed his leadership and his gospel, recognizing them as given by God.  Though Paul had no legacy of leaders to follow, He had something even better: he had God to follow.  The apostles clearly thought this alone was sufficient for His ministry...and I think it remains the most important thing any Christian leader can have today.

But I wonder if the author of this pamphlet would agree.  He alludes to "side-boards" and "guidelines" that leaders will need to understand what is expected of them as they are used of God and serve as a leader in His church.  Where can we find these guidelines, or side-boards, as he has it?  "One way you can gain these side-boards, [sic] is to understand just what your leaders are looking for when it comes to future leaders. [emphasis original]"  He then explains how he sent a message to a number of current church leaders asking them for a few words on what they were looking for in future leaders.

When I saw this, I confess to being overly optimistic.  I thought to myself, "That's nice.  We'll have one or two brief quotes from leaders and then the writer will come back and expound the guidelines of leadership from scripture (the quotes of the Bible, which is authored by the Holy Spirit, being of greater weight than the quotes of men, which are authored by mere mortals)."  Then, I turned a page, then another, then another.  The booklet is 55 pages long, and all but the first 4 and the last page consist entirely of quotations from other leaders.  Here is the source Rick Whitney suggests future leaders draw their guidelines from: previous leaders.

But is this where we are supposed to get our guidelines from, whether in leadership or any other aspect of our spiritual lives?  I'll admit it is a fair source, but is it the best one?  For pages and pages and pages leaders spout their personal opinions on what a good leader should do and should be.  No doubt their advice has merit, but is their no firmer foundation, no greater truth we can look to?  Can we find any better source of guidelines in the area of spiritual leadership than the God who made all our spirits and seeks to lead us all?  Has He not spoken on the topic of leadership in the Bible?  Surely He has, but it is not the Bible that Rick Whitney asks us to turn for guidelines but to each other.

This troubles me greatly, even as it clears certain things up.  In the church my friend attended, leaders were greatly revered.  Their advice was taken very seriously.  There positions were highly honored.  I would see this as a good thing, if it were not for how it contrasted with the attitude toward the influence of the Spirit.  The Spirit, in this church, was generally thought to work through leaders in some sort of top-down approach.  Some even scoffed at the idea that the Spirit might choose to direct a person individually in his or her everyday life.  Others said that such guidance simply could not be trusted if it failed to line up with the advice of one's leaders.  When it came down to a real choice between following the miraculous voice of the Spirit speaking directly to your heart or following the advice of your leaders regurgitated from the advice of their leaders and ultimately sourced from who-knows-where, the choice was a matter of remaining in the church (if you placed the leader's advice higher) or being ejected from it (if you did not).

How can this be good Christian practice?  How can this be virtuous Christian leadership?  Paul became an apostle not because of his leaders, but because God called him and revealed the gospel and his mission to him without the influence of leaders.  Even when Paul called for Christians to follow and imitate him, he did so with a keen eye that they should first and foremost follow God.  "Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ," he says in 1 Corinthians 11:1 [emphasis added].  Verses later he states that the head of every man is not his leader but, "the head of every man is Christ."

It is good to have leaders, teachers, mentors, and people we can learn from, but if our ultimate source of guidance is not God Himself, we are lost.  We then had better hope that our leaders are led by God, for if not then this parable applies:

"if the blind lead the blind, both will fall into a pit."

--Jesus Christ, Matthew 15:14

More Mirrors

Added March 1st, 2013
In the months since I posted this, I have gotten back in touch with members of my previous church in the Great Commission Movement and one of the national leaders of the movement as well.  Some elements and people in the Movement seem to respond very well to criticism and the national leadership is definitely among them.  Yet some at my previous church seem to still reflect the need for "more mirrors."  Parts of this post still address that need, particularly paragraphs toward the end that address issues of deflecting valid criticism and church elitism.

My initial post (linked to through the first paragraph of this one: the September post called "God's Best") still remains fully valid and, I think, relevant for believers everywhere as we are all under God's sovereignty and all living out His best--and all vulnerable to the accusation of Satan that we have somehow destroyed God's sovereign plan and purpose for our lives by sinning.

However, in regards to this post it should be noted Jim McCotter (the primary author of the book critiqued below) is no longer a member of the Great Commission Movement.  The Movement's current leaders are aware that much of the sadly-valid criticisms they incurred early in their history were related to his leadership and they have publicly stated that they will not work with him until or unless he embraces the changes they made in response to those criticisms and reconciles himself with various people hurt by his leadership.  The Movement further no longer promotes Jim McCotter's works, including Leadership:Elders and Apostles.  It is effectively replaced by a 2007 work by John Hopler and Brent Knox: New Testament Church Leadership in Action Today.  While this work builds on the theme of the previous book in that it places a strong emphasis on doing things "the New Testament way," including leadership, the book corrects the errors of it's predecessor.  It acknowledges deacons and apostles as church offices, though it does not discuss them in detail.  It acknowledges that models of leadership other than their own may be equally valid, while still presenting arguments in favor of their own view.  It drops entirely a number of points from the previous work, including dismissal of criticisms, the one-church-per-city rule, and objection to the Biblical requirements that an elder be married and with children.  While the previous work emphasizes zeal, courage, and blind obedience as the ideal qualities of a leader, the new work emphasizes servanthood.  The latter work argues its case logically, Biblically, and with respect for other views, and on the whole this seems to be the model followed today by the Movement, though due to the independence of the individual churches they should be taken on a case by case basis.  That being said, for most of them, this post no longer applies.  However, since parts of it are sadly still relevant and since more general questions on church leadership (such as "Why does the Bible require elders to be married?" etc) are addressed indirectly below, I have preserved the original post.  You can view it in its entirety by clicking below.

Scattered Thoughts

I've been wanting to write another post here for a while.  Now I suppose I'm going to write several all together here and just hope it makes sense.  Even if it doesn't, it will feel good to get it out there.

I've been meaning to finish up my previous post on Psalm 139.  I don't know if I'll finish it, but I did want to add on to it.  The psalmist begins by talking about how God knows him so completely and utterly. God knows when he rises, when he sits, where he goes and when, and even knows what he is going to say before  he says it.

In truth, God goes beyond simply knowing us.  He is not some distant figure in the heavens peering down on us.  He possesses us.  We are His.  From the moment of our birth, and even before, He sees us and makes up plans for our lives.  He surrounds us with His presence day in and day out, even as we sleep.  We cannot escape from Him.  The psalmist goes to great lengths to illustrate this last point.  Beginning at verse seven, the psalmist writes of how he cannot escape God's knowledge and presence even if he tries.  If he goes up into Heaven, God is there; if he descends into Hell, God is there; if he flees at the speed of light itself to the remotest corner of the universe, even there God will be with him.  Even if he cloaks himself in darkness (whether spiritual or physical), God's gaze pierces the darkness: it does not inhibit Him in the least.

Such an omnipresent personal force could be truly terrifying.  It reminds me a bit of the "Creepy Doll" song.

Everywhere the character turns, the creepy doll is there, watching, waiting, and obviously hostile.  But God's presence isn't threatening like that.  It can be threatening, I'll admit: He encroaches on our sense of privacy, our independence, and most of all on our belief that we are the self-sufficient sovereigns over our own lives and worlds.  But He does not encroach on all this because He intends to ruin us.  He encroaches because He intends to rescue us.  All through the Psalm it speaks of God's actions in terms of protection and guidance.  You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me (verse 5).  If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me and your right hand shall hold me (verses 9-10).  We are drowning in our privacy (read loneliness), our independence (read isolation), in the pressure of trying to be enough for all of our needs all by ourselves.  Christ comes and rescues us from all of that, protects us from ongoing damage and leads us out.

That reminds me of another thing I wanted to mention.  There's this song that's been going through my head a lot the past few weeks--and no, it's not about a creepy doll!  It's one of the new Taylor Swift songs, "State of Grace."  I confess I had to listen to it a few times before I actually had a clue what the song was about.  Once I did, though, I immediately saw how it applied to myself and God, especially right now.

The lyrics for this song are very hard to find online.  So far I haven't found one listing that doesn't foul them up.  Honestly, people, how hard is it to just buy the album at Walmart and open the insert to page 2?  All the lyrics are printed right there, no guesswork.  They're listed here for your convenience.  Copyright Taylor Swift.

I'm walking fast through the traffic lights

Busy streets and busy lives

and all we know

is touch and go

We are alone with our changing minds

We fall in love till it hurts or bleeds or fades in time 

And I never

saw you coming

And I'll never

be the same

You come around and the armor falls

Pierce the room like a cannonball

Now all we know

is don't let go

We are alone, just you and me

Up in your room, and our slates are clean

Just twin fire signs

Four blue eyes 

So you were never a saint

And I loved in shades of wrong

We learn to live with the pain

Mosaic broken hearts

But this love is brave and wild! 

And I never

saw you coming

And I'll never

be the same 

This is a state of grace

This is the worthwhile fight

Love is a ruthless game

unless you play it good and right

These are the hands of fate

You're my Achilles heel

This is the golden age of something good and right and real 

And I never

saw you coming

And I'll never

be the same

And I never

saw you coming

And I'll never

be the same 

This is a state of grace

This is the worthwhile fight

Love is a ruthless game

unless you play it good and right.

Where I work, the environment is very fast paced.  Customers don't stop piling into your line just because you're tired and can barely keep your eyes open, or you had to skip breakfast and your fingers are beginning to tremble from hunger.  Your break is coming, sure, but it's only a few minute respite.  Even if you get off, it's a few hours, maybe a few days, during which you never really seem to recover, and then you're back on the line again.  It can be exhausting, but it's life as the world offers it.  Keep moving, keep producing, keep working, harder, faster, stronger, smarter than the next guy.  You have to get ahead--and stay ahead--of everybody else if you ever want your life to count...and did I mention that the definition of "ahead' is always racing along faster than you could hope to run yourself?

There are respites, of course.  There's a sympathetic chat with a customer, a few words with a friend, a small space of relaxation.  There's something in those moments that touches my parched soul--but then I have to go again, I have to keep busy.  And it seems the end result of being busy is being alone.  I don't have time to really understand and be with people and have them really understand and be with me.  I don't have time to understand myself, to really understand the wounds of my past, my present, to see how I've changed and evaluated it.  I just have to keep moving.  This is the break-neck pace of my private, independent, self-sufficiently sovereign life...and it might literally break my neck!

But like the psalm says, God is inescapable and He comes to guard and to guide.  He always seems to show up when I don't expect Him.  I never see Him coming.  He pierces all my business, all my defenses, all my armor, in the most unexpected ways, and cuts right to my heart.  Though I may be surrounded by bustling customers, I feel as though I am alone with Him, just the two of us.  All the things I think I have to do in order to count aren't there with us.  All the things I'm trying to make up for aren't either.  No, He isn't proper (the prudish way I think of proper) to barge in like this and sweep all of this oh-so-important rubbish aside.  But He's right.  No, I don't deserve it.  I've done worse than loved a few shades of wrong, but my slate is clean.  He went through Calvary to make it so, in order to get me here, alone, with Him.  It's wonderful!

I'm not truly alone, though.  There are still customers bustling.  The pressures of the day are right there, waiting to pounce on me, as is the temptation to battle them all alone in my self-sufficiency.  But God is here to.  I live with the blessing of His presence, the blessings of Heaven itself, while mucking through life on Earth.  It is a fight to keep this in my mind, but it's a worthwhile one and I'm not alone in it.  God has written my life story, and He is my destiny.  When all else fails, He knows my weaknesses and exploits the chinks in my armor of isolation to open me up to Him once more.  Love and life can be a ruthless and pointless game, but it never is with Him.  He plays it good and right, for He is Good and Right!

There are some more scattered thoughts floating around in my brain, but I'll save them.  For now, I've found a good stopping point, and I'll seize it.

Thoughts from the Cosmetic Aisle

A couple nights ago I was sent to return some left-behind products to the cosmetics department of the store where I work.  Upon stepping into the first aisle, I found myself surrounded with completely unfamiliar products.  There were rows upon rows of strange powders in small clear cases carefully arranged into racks and sorted by color--even though they were all really just very, very slightly different shades of brown.  There were pencils of various sorts and descriptions, again carefully arranged by indistinguishable shades of black, red, green, or blue.  The lipsticks and nail polish presented similar problems.  Then, there were all sorts of arcane-looking metal and plastic tools.  Finally, there were things there that I'd never even known existed: false eyelashes, plastic fingernails with break-off tabs like the models I assembled with plastic cement when I was a kid...

I found my way around eventually and started putting the products in my handbasket back in their places on the shelves (it really helped that all those color-sorted products also had numerical codes written on the back to help me tell that the foundation I held was "sand" colored instead of "sunkissed," which are visually indistinguishable).  However, as I worked, though, I couldn't shake the feeling of strangeness and revulsion.  I was trying hard not to imagine how one would go about using glue-on eyelashes or a sharp, metal probe called a "cuticle remover" (or the accidents that could result from the same).  Even when I managed that successfully, I kept imagining a woman who used all of these things: false eyelashes, plastic fingernails and toenails, penciled-in eyebrows, layers of foundation, mascara, and lipstick, every inch of skin shaved, plucked, waxed, prodded, and probed...a woman who was more artificial than natural.  Worse, I imagined a woman who might think she needed all of that: a woman who was so convinced of her ugliness that she believed she needed to cover every inch of herself in a thick mask of made-in-China plastics, powders, and glazes in order to be presentable.  That thought made me feel sick at heart.  If I knew such a girl, I would spray her with a waterhose until she was clean from all the makeup and artificial junk, till she was just herself: genuine, real, unassuming, and beautiful.  Like many men, I know that women are more beautiful without any makeup on.  People are more attractive when they're real and not putting on a show.

Now, if you're a woman and you're reading this (and wearing makeup), please don't think I'm judging you and your choices.  They are your own.  If you prefer to use makeup, if you think you need some in order to look the way you want to, far be it from me to say what you should and shouldn't do, what makes you look better or worse.  You know that far better than I!  But those were my thoughts while I walked the cosmetics aisle, and I don't think it was by accident I was there.  God was trying to tell me something about the way He sees me.  Every day, I am tempted to look at my life, my heart, my feelings, thoughts, and desires, and say, "Eww, I can't let God catch me looking like this.  I've got to prune this, get rid of that, cover all of this over, and mask it all in spiritual practices x, y, and z."  There's nothing wrong with makeup, and there's nothing wrong with spiritual practices, but what I'm tempted to do is make a mask, an artificial self, whereby I can be presentable to God.  I'm tricked into thinking that without a mask, I'm repulsive: that if God saw me as I really am, He'd turn away from me.  But the truth is God saw me as I really was before I knew Him, when I was at my absolute worst...and He loved me.  He had compassion on me and took me in.  When I was dead and polluted with blood, He said to me, "Live!" (Ezekiel 16:3-14).  When I was ugly as I could be, He had compassion on me, and made me beautiful, and made me His own.  Now, He sees me as I can never quite see myself, as His beloved, as His radiant and worthy Bride (Revelation 3:4).  When I walked the cosmetics aisle and ruefully thought, Women are more attractive without makeup, He agreed: Christians shine brighter without their masks.

I know that Christian "makeup" was a big thing in my past.  My relationship with God was more about keeping on a mask than being real with Him.  But God has His own version of a waterhose and, thankfully, is none too shy about using it.  There are still times and places where masks and makeup wait for me, but my heart before Him is clean, wet, dripping, laughing, bright, and beautiful.

God and Politics

They say there are two things you must never, ever discuss with strangers at a party: religion and politics.  To broach these subjects is not necessarily rude in itself, but views held in these areas are held very strongly and you're apt to have the unpleasant surprise of finding yourself discussing them with someone who holds a polar opposite view from yourself.  If that happens, its assumed that because of how political and religious views are so tightly held, the two of you are doomed to either awkward silence or a scathing verbal exchange as you attempt to beat your view into your opponent.  Thus, never discuss religion or politics.

What's worse is a combination of the two.  This is what I've experienced several times recently.  I consider myself both a Christian and a Republican and hold them to be relatively unrelated things (that is, I allow that a Christian could be just as good a Christian as I and yet be a Democrat as well).  However, recently, I've heard from a couple different sources that this is not so.  In fact, in order to be a good Christian, one must necessarily be a Democrat.

It's said in different ways.  One friend put it mildly, "I'll be voting Democratic because I think they're more Christlike."  One posted a quote that put it bluntly, "If you don't want tax dollars helping the sick and poor, then it's time to stop saying you want a government based on Christian values."  A third went much farther, saying that if any Christian considered him or herself a member of the "religious right" "you should not call yourself that ...because they are antichrist[,] doing the opposite of what Jesus would do. They push law and judgment instead grace and love...".  So my friends have a broad range of views and ways to put them, but a common theme emerges among them.  Being liberal (or at the very least, not being conservative) is being a good Christian because (1) you don't force moral law on people, and (2) you support government initiatives in social justice.  Presumably, these two are both things that Christ did that are central to His character and mission.  If you don't support them or, worse, oppose them, then you are, therefore, not a good Christian.

To say I'm a bit put-off by this stance would be putting it mildly.  I think it's just fine to be fully convinced of your political position.  It's good, in fact.  I think it's also perfectly fine to draw certain points of your political position from your faith--in fact, another good thing!  The problem comes when we take our political view and project it back on Christ and tell the world or the people around us, "Christ was a member of such-and-such a party.  Christ would have voted this way.  To be a member of this political party and support them is more Christian than to vote otherwise."

In reality, Christ was not and is not affiliated with any political party.  There were no political parties comparable to our own in 1st Century Israel, and the parties that did exist (primarily the Pharisees, Sadducees, Herodians, and Zealots) could not claim Jesus as a member.  He offended all of them equally.  It's well known that Christ told the Pharisees they were hypocrites.  He gave the same to the Sadducees, and to add insult to injury His rising from the dead disproved one of their core beliefs--that there was no resurrection (see Acts 23:6, where Paul effectively uses this split between Pharisees and Sadducees as a diversion).  Herodians hated him because Jesus joined John the Baptist in condemning their leader (King Herod) for his gross sexual immorality.  Zealots hated Him because He paid taxes to the Roman oppressors and taught His followers to do the same, thereby supporting the regime the Zealots saw as the embodiment of all evil.  Also, when they tried to make Him king, He ran (John 6:15).  Jesus was completely outside their system and above their petty politics.

Thus, when we say that Christ was a member of party X or would have voted for Y, or supported political agenda Z, we are simply liars going about trying to inflate our own egos into hammers with which we can beat other people down.  It is ironic to me that I have received this treatment from three people who say the reason they think being Democratic is being Christian is that Christ was loving.  Are political ego-hammers loving too?  Apparently so.

But someone will object: "Christ really did love social justice and hate restrictive moral law!"  Since social justice and restrictive moral law are still issues on the political table today, logically, we should be able to say that Christ's stand on them would remain unchanged.  That is, assuming the context and nature of these questions has not changed.

As I said, I am a Republican and as such I oppose Democratic government program for social justice as a general rule.  I do not do this because I hate poor people and want to see them starve.  I do not do this because I am opposed to social justice in general.  In fact, I support social justice--but I don't think it's the government's job.  I think it's the individual's job.  The government is ill-equipped to dispense social justice in my opinion.  It has its own massive bills (and ginormous debt) to pay.  Paying for social justice and welfare programs keeps it from its central responsibilities to public defense, security, safety, education, and enterprise (notice that as our government is splurging on welfare and social justice programs it's cutting defense and education budgets, laying off policemen, letting infrastructure fall apart, closing fire stations, and pushing the highest corporate tax rate in the world which tops out at over 50 cents of every dollar earned).  It's also mired in layers of bureaucracy which make it difficult for the government to respond to social justice issues quickly and effectively--as well as making it extremely easy to take advantage of and con.  Individual donors are less susceptible--if not immune--to many of these pitfalls.  As an additional benefit, individual philanthropists--like the poor--are always and will always be with us.  The government, if it keeps spending this way, will be tottering on the edge of complete financial collapse, just like Greece, before I turn 40.  I therefore oppose government social justice because I see myself supporting a truer and more lasting version it attempts unsuccessfully to replace.

Would Christ agree with me?  I have no idea.  Certainly, Christ advocated charity to the poor.  However, Christ never once said this had to come in the form of government hand-outs.  He always advocated charity from individuals who had wealth to give, as did all the authors of the New Testament.  Yet this does not mean that Christ would necessarily hold the same position in America today.  Remember, He and the other New Testament Christians lived in Rome 2,000 years ago.  A lot has changed.  For one, we now have a government that actually sees social justice and welfare programs as serious issues that must be dealt with all the time.  Roman Emperors gave them passing notice, but many were too busy conquering the world, each other, and appointing their favorite horse to the Senate.  No stance of Christ on the issue of government welfare or social justice programs can be found recorded in scripture.  While my view may be traceable to my faith and I am fully convinced of it, other views may be equally valid and equally Christian.

The issue of law is a little clearer in my mind.  To me, it has nothing to do with party lines and everything to do with an understanding of what a law is.  My Democratic friends are forever reminding me: "You can't legislate morality."  But a law is just that: a moral conviction legislated.  We have laws against murder because we (the majority--who make the laws) believe murder is morally wrong.  We have laws against polygamy because we believe it is morally wrong to have more than one wife.  We have laws against reckless driving because we believe it is morally wrong to endanger the lives of others by one's mishandling of a motor vehicle.  Behind every single law is a moral conviction.  That being said, there is nothing at all wrong with legislating moral convictions in general.  The question really arises around certain moral convictions that are in dispute and it's not (properly) a question of can morality be legislated or not (it certainly can), but to what extent it should be governed by law.  For example, I believe failure to worship the one true God constitutes a moral offense to Him by denying His nature--that is, I believe it is morally wrong. Yet even so, I do not think we ought to pass a law requiring worship of God!  It should be given freely and if it is to be given freely people must be left free of law so that people can make their own decision.  To bring it closer to home, I believe abortion is morally equivalent to manslaughter since I believe a human being becomes a human being when they have the unique genetic code that sets them apart as their own individual human person (this happens at conception).  Many Christians feel the same, but are also torn by the difficult situations a woman choosing abortion might be faced with (poverty, rape, incest, threat to her own life).  Should a law therefore be passed outlawing abortion or no?  Should choice or law reign in this moral quandary?  I believe law is the correct answer here.

But again, would Christ agree with me?  The Bible does not say.  Nowhere in the Bible is abortion clearly addressed.  While it's true that Christ opposed man-made religious laws (such as the Pharisee's tradition that God would be okay with you dishonoring your parents if you did it as a part of dedication to temple service: Mark 7:10-13, a belief which--on a sidenote--finds its companion in the teachings of many modern cults which encourage adherence to the group and obedience to its leaders over honor to even believing parents), Christ did not speak on civil law at any point that I can recall.  Paul, in Romans 13, taught obedience to civil law, but I can think of no Christian in scripture who ever talked about what civil law was or was not to be.  The reason was really quite simple: Christians of the day were in no position to make civil law.  The lawmakers of the day were Romans and Jews, and they were much too busy trying to kill the Christians to bother about what laws the Christians thought were and were not good ideas.  The only time the Bible speaks directly to civil law is in the Old Testament, where God lays down the civil law of a theocratic Israel.  We do not live in a theocracy now, so there's no telling whether Christ would uphold those laws in our altered circumstances or not.  While I believe my position is informed by my faith and I am convinced of it, other positions may equally be drawn from equal Christian faith and may be equally valid.

Religion and politics are closely held and interrelated--and that's not necessarily bad!  What is bad is when we take a dogmatic position on murky issues in either field and put our view forward as the only valid view that can be held.  What's worse is when we combine the two fields and say, "You can only be a good Christian if you agree with my politics."  When the Bible doesn't clearly back our particular political view, we are simply wrong to judge the faithfulness of others and puff up the self-righteousness of ourselves based on politics.

Perhaps if we avoided these things and held our political and religious convictions with a more open hand, we would have no need to ban the discussion of religion and politics at parties.

Thoughts from a Motorcycle Accident

Today, I witnessed a fatal motorcycle accident.  Two bikers passed me and a bunch of other cars and attempted to pass in front of the semi that was leading the pack.  They managed to speed past him, but a sharp bend in the road came next.  One biker made the turn.  The other's bike overturned during the turn, leaving him to slide into the guardrail.  He was dead at the scene.

How quickly life can end!  How suddenly!  One minute, that man was blazing along on his motorcycle, rushing past cars, heading for the freeway--so full of life!  The next, he lay dead with his buddy doing the sign of the cross over him.  Life is like a vapor.  If this is the life we live, so fragile, so easily taken away, we should value it, each moment.  We should never miss an opportunity to show love for another or receive love ourselves, for every opportunity could be our last.

And what God do we envision ruling over this world, where life is so short?  Where one biker makes it and the other doesn't?  Where the simple laws of physics can be so brutally unforgiving?  If we imagine a god who is so omnibenevolent that he wouldn't hurt a fly, we must confess he is a god very much powerless in our world.  If we imagine a cruel, heartless god, we must confess he has some stroke of madness, for the other biker lived, unharmed, as did all the other motorists in that line of cars and trucks.  God is neither cruel nor kind.  He is good.  He cares, and he will be with the family and friends as they grieve.  Yet He also judges.  None of us are innocent, not the biker who died, not the one who lived, not even the people in their cars.  Judgment comes for us suddenly, and it can be as unforgiving as physics.  When Jesus heard of the Jews on whom a tower had collapsed, He did not mourn such a horrible accident.  He did not mock and laugh.  He warned: "Do you suppose those men were worse sinners than yourselves?  No, and if you don't repent, you will also perish" (Luke 13:4-5, paraphrased).  He cared enough to warn us, to ask us to repent, but He is stern enough to carry out justice without remorse if we refuse.  He is a God both fearsome and gentle, loving and terrifying.

Does God Burn People in Hell?

There's a lot of controversy about this question.  A fellow Christian on Facebook has written very passionately about it and begins his analysis with, what I think, is a series of questions that cuts right to the heart of the matter.

 Do they believe a God that would send His one and only Son to die a torturous and humiliating death would create a place that would be used for TORTURE for ALL eternity? Does the character of God come off as a tyrant who enjoys hearing the screams of people who have decided not to worship Him? Would this sound like a way to "glorify" Him as a loving and giving Father? Or does this sound like a way to de-glorify [sic] Him as a mean and unmerciful tyrant?

I'm sure, from these leading questions, you understand the writer would answer a definite "no" to the question in this post's title.  From my previous post on the topic, you can be sure I disagree with him.  However, we do agree on this: what we believe about Hell reflects what we believe about God.  If we believe that Hell does not exist at all, then we confess a god who winks at injustice, even on the grand scales we humans have committed it.  If we say that Hell exists but that God doesn't send people there or punish them, then we confess a god who is not in control of our world or our fates and is either powerless or unmotivated to own the vengeance he has claimed as his own (Romans 12:19).  If we say that Hell is a place where innocents burn, then we profess a god who indeed is a monster.  But if we agree with the Bible that Hell is a place where God pours out His wrath on the wicked, then we confess a God who is powerful, good, and just--however hard we may find His justice to rectify with our own ideas of our inherent goodness.

First of all, let's not dodge the questions, leading as they are.  The first is really telling, the most critical, I think: do we believe that God's character is capable of creating a place of eternal torture, given the fact that He sent His only Son to suffer death on the cross?  I think the answer is in the question.

For eternity past, the Son lived in perfect love, harmony, and union with the Father.  He was (and is) God and sat enthroned in Heaven enjoying all the glories and pleasures that Heaven can provide.  But in time, He humbled Himself for the incarnation.  He took upon Himself the form of a slave (Philippians 2:7), a human with a brief and painful life.  He suffered every evil that we suffer: He was a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief (Isaiah 53:3).  Let's not underestimate the adversity of this alone.  He who is the source of all joy wept.  He who is omnipotent grew tired and slept.  He who provides food for all creatures everywhere knew hunger and thirst.  Then, add in the temptations.  The Bible says that Jesus was tempted in every way just as we are (Hebrews 4:15).  Imagine!  Jesus saw Satan fall from Heaven like lightning, defeated before His archangel Michael and His mighty army (God does not appear to have taken part in the struggle directly, from the account in Revelation 12:7-9).  In the book of Job, Satan even had to ask God's permission to cause mayhem and misery--such was His power over him.  But on earth the roles are almost reversed.  Jesus staggers, ravaged by hunger, thirst, and exhaustion while Satan stands, taunting Him: "If you really are the Son of God, prove it!"  Doesn't it strike you as torture for the Son of God to endure such humiliation and suffering?

And we haven't even come to the cross.  We have made no mention of the cruelest form of capital punishment ever devised, by which men in agony were publicly hung to suffocate slowly over the course of days under their own body weight.  We have not spoken of the scourging which disfigured him beyond human recognition and from which (alone) men frequently died.  We have not spoken of the terrible suffering in Gethsemane, where He sweat drops of blood (a known medical condition called hematidrosis resulting from extreme levels of stress).  It can only be described as torture, torture inflicted on God's own Son, according to God's own pleasure (Isaiah 53:10-11) and deliberate plan (Acts 2:23).

If God is capable of deliberately planning such horrific things for His own Son, whom He loves and with whom He is pleased, what is he capable of doing to His enemies?  I would say eternal torment doesn't sound like a stretch.

So, God is unquestionably capable of torture, having deliberately planned it for His own Son.  What then of the next question: is God a sadistic tyrant who delights in the suffering of innocents who simply "decided not to worship Him?"  Let's think about this.  First of all, let's acknowledge who it is we're talking about: it's God here.  If we're talking about not worshiping God, we're talking about essentially denying His identity as God and attributing it to someone or something else.  It is not at all the same as me refusing to bow down at your feet, since we are both humans, made equals however society may place us.  It is me treating you as though you did not exist and carrying on as if your computer's keyboard were you.  Even that falls far short for, again, we are equals.  You did not create me.  You do not know every facet of my being; you do not provide for my every need and uphold me with your power.  God does all of that for us, and when we "decide not to worship Him" we commit the gravest affront to His divine nature that is possible by denying its existence and ascribing its attributes to something else entirely, something totally unworthy.  There is no real human parallel to this sin, but the Bible comes the closest when it compares it to adultery, a woman leaving her husband to bribe every Tom, Dick, and Harry to bed her and be her new love (Ezekiel 16, for God's view of human infidelity in worship, portrayed as a story about a man and his unbelievably adulterous wife--but be warned, it is graphic).  If this were the only crime that those who burn in Hell were guilty of, would they not deserve the punishment?

But let's be realistic here: is there or has there ever been a human being who lived a faultless life, except for not worshiping God?  Realistically, no.  Even we can acknowledge that with our own trite saying: "Nobody's perfect."  The Bible has a rather more drastic (and accurate) way of putting it, quoting from itself in Romans 3:10-18:

"as it is written: 'None is righteous, no, not one; no one understands; no one seeks for God.  All have turned aside; together they have become worthless; no one does good, not even one.'  'Their throat is an open grave; they use their tongues to deceive.'  'The venom of asps is under their lips.'  'Their mouth is full of curses and bitterness.'  'Their feet are swift to shed blood; in their paths are ruin and misery, and the way of peace they have not known.'  'There is no fear of God before their eyes.'"

Before God, even our attempts at righteousness are tainted, filthy rags (Isaiah 64:6).  We are so far from the inherently innocent people we imagine ourselves to be!  Viewed through God's all-piercing and perfect gaze, we all rank of the same level of repellent evil that we perceive in Hitler.  I don't think that anyone for a moment would argue that Hitler doesn't deserve to burn in Hell.  So the question then becomes something much different: is God capable of dispensing justice as He sees fit, and if so does He take pleasure in it?

Unquestionably, yes.  The Bible says in Psalm 135:6 that God does whatever He pleases "in the heavens and on the earth," then goes on to enumerate His judgments on Egypt and various unbelieving nations as among the things that He was apparently pleased to do.  Jeremiah 9:34 further lists justice alongside steadfast love and righteousness as the three things in which God delights.  To be sure, as 2 Peter 3:9 famously states, God would much rather the wicked repented.  But if they do not repent, God is totally capable of dealing out justice by burning them in Hell as they deserve.  Does such a thing glorify Him?  He certainly doesn't seem to be ashamed of it.  In fact, Jesus (God in the flesh) talks about Hell quite a bit and His Apostle, Paul, talks more about Hell than he does about Heaven.

So let's go after the titular question directly: does God send people to Hell?  Let me answer that question with another question: in the Bible, is there any other way to wind up in Hell?  In the New Testament, in the KJV, the word Hell appears 23 times.  Twelve of those times, someone is being cast, thrust, or sent to Hell. Three times it is directly said that the one doing the casting is God (the other verses are in passive voice and leave the actor unspecified).  Another of the 23 verses said that it is Christ, the Alpha and Omega, who holds the keys to Hell.  If God is the one doing the casting and controlling the gates, then how would one get into Hell unless God threw Him there?  Yes, God sends people to Hell.  Our sins are our own choice, and it for them we are sent there, but let us make no mistake in Who does the sending.  God is the judge, and it is He who condemns, as every parable Jesus ever told mentioning Hell bears out.  He told many, and in each of them God is the one who casts out the wicked--they do not voluntarily cast themselves out.

Psalm 139, Part One: Known

To the Choirmaster, a Psalm of David

O Lord, you have searched me and known me!  You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar.  You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways.  Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether.

--Psalm 139:1-4

Psalm 139 has always been one of my favorites.  It's very comforting, when you take it altogether.   Sometimes it seems to be the only passage I can read: short, sweet, and uplifting like a candy bar.  Sometimes, I feel bad about it, as if it really is just eating a candy bar.  Too sweet, too sugary, too little nutrition.  I ought to be deep in the "meat" of the Word--a T-bone stake of theological treatise from Hebrews or somewhere.  Instead, here I am stuffing a cheesy little passage like Psalm 139 in my face, the spiritual equivalent of a fat little kid that only eats junk food.

But if you think about it, are there really any more or less relevant passages of scripture?  Doesn't the Bible say, "All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be competent, equipped for every good work" (2 Timothy 3:16-17)?  If so, Psalm 139 is a part of scripture, and thereby as divinely inspired as any other part of the Bible, and is also profitable for all the things necessary to train a man up in godliness.  The part about "milk" and "meat" in Hebrews 5 and 1 Corinthians 3 seems to refer more to carnal instruction (do this, don't do that, etc) verses instruction in spiritual truth.  Psalm 139 doesn't contain one word of carnal instruction: therefore as short and sweet as it may be, it is what the Bible calls, "spiritual meat."

So here's the truth from the first four verses of Psalm 139.  I am known.  Completely, intimately, and thoroughly known by God.  He has "searched me" and knows everything about me.  He knows my habits, where I live, where I work, where I go, when, and who with.  He knows even when I break those habits and do something out of the ordinary.  He knows when I sit down and when I get up.  He even knows, thoroughly knows, all my thoughts, everything I intend to say and why, before I even open my mouth.

To be honest, the idea of someone, anyone, knowing me that well is frightening.  There is a lot of stuff I do, stuff I think, that I'm not proud of.  A lot I think would, if it got out, turn my closest friends against me.  Further, knowledge is power, and to be known by someone is to be totally at their mercy, naked before them.  Just ask any blackmailer.  Of course, the illustration isn't perfect.  A blackmailer can merely defame you by exposing what he or she knows.  I am known by God, and if He pleases, He can destroy me body and soul in Hell for what He knows of me.  Anyone who never feels a measure of terror and fear before God is either a fool or imagines God to be altogether a different sort of being than He is (less powerful, more distant, or chained into total passivity and harmlessness by a strange distortion of kindness).

But, there is the flip side.  While it is truly terrifying to think of anyone knowing me like that and holding that kind of power over me, there is a part of me that longs for it.  Power can be used to harm or heal.  Knowledge can be used against me, but it could also be used for me.  The kind words and compliments of a stranger are nice, of course, but they don't really known me.  They don't see me as I am.  But if an intimate friend gives the same compliment, seeing more of my character, having lived with me day in and day out...then it means more.  And if God, who sees me and knows me entirely were to actually like me...well, nothing could be greater (and the Bible says He does).  Imagine what He could do with that kind of intimate knowledge?  Family members and friends may pry for months trying to figure out one's desires so that they can buy an appropriate gift at Christmas.  God doesn't need to pry, He simply knows everything about me.  If He wanted to give a gift, it would always be absolutely perfectly suited.  If He wanted to give direction and instruction, He would always be spot on.  If He wanted to give comfort, consolation, or compliments, He would always be absolutely on the mark.  He knows me.  He understands me.  To be known and understood is a fundamental human desire, just as to be naked in public is a fundamental human fear.  God fulfills that desire because He knows, He understands.  The next verses tell us how He uses that knowledge...

God's Best

I read the introduction to an essay on leadership someone linked to this morning, alleging that in it the writer claimed to be a modern-day apostle.  Whether such a claim is made or not or whether or not (if made) it is true ("apostle" does just mean one who is sent, so it might equate to our missionaries--though obviously no one today could claim to be one of the Twelve) I don't yet know.  I haven't read that far, to be honest.  Maybe when I do I'll talk about it and post a link here to the original article.

What I did read in the introduction already had me bothered.  The below quote is just over 200 words, so my time at a publishing house tells me that it falls under fair use:

Israel could be spiritually lazy with a king. Without a king they all had to look up, even in recognizing the prophets or judges (leaders) for their time. With a kingship there is automatic lineage. Automatically the elders [sic] son is next in line to rule, control, and direct. Without the kingship plan each individual could be chosen for leadership. Anyone could be a Gideon found grinding out his grain when the Lord called him for action. Each man had to voluntarily follow into the battles. Under a king you were conscripted. Under the kingship program man was king when God was to be looked on as King alone. God wanted the fuller part. Not only is that more glorifying to Him, but it is more advantageous for all the people. But the people wanted to be more like the heathen around them. How sad, but of course God in His love still did great things in that situation.

We do not need to belabor the point. God still worked with kings in the Old Testament (O.T.), but it was not His best plan.

Israel had many years before they evolved into certain patterns that were not God's best. Like Israel, God's people in the Church Age have moved in similar ways.

--Leadership: Elders and Apostles by Jim McCotter and Dennis Clark 

To start with, there's some historical inaccuracy in this.  First of all, Israel doesn't seem to have lived well with "spiritual laziness" at any point in their history--whether in the book of Judges or the books of Kings, forsaking the Lord tended to end rather badly for them (not that that ever stopped them from doing it).  Second, the eldest son did not "automatically" ascend to the throne after his father.  The Old Testament records numerous disputed successions and even several outright coups.  The son to ascend to the throne was not always the eldest either, as with Solomon's succession (he was actually a fairly late-comer to David's enormous family, though he was the oldest living son of Bathsheba and David).

But laying that aside, there's the bigger issue of God's best.  That one applies to us today.  Here, the writer asserts plainly that the monarchy was "not God's best" for Israel.  It was "not His best plan," though "God in His love still did great things in that situation."  Israel started out in the center of God's A-Plan, it seems, but they decided to scrap it, get themselves a king, and wound up stuck with God's second-best fallback plan for the rest their nation's independent existence.  Poor Israel.

Poor us.  The writer's transition makes it clear he thinks Israel isn't the only one capable of doing this, nor non-Christians.  The elect, "God's people," can, "like Israel," move away from God's best.  We, collectively and as individuals, can miss out on God's plan for our lives and wind up stuck in some muddle of whatever He "in His love" can work in that situation (which, while it might be "great" will not be "God's best").

Think about this for a minute, because if it's true, it's frightening.  God has a plan for your life.  That's clear and Biblical.  "All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be" (Psalm 139:16).  But if you screw up, you could wind up not living even one of them.  You could wind up stuck in some sub-prime life, like a homeowner paying an "underwater" mortgage on a home that's no longer worth what they got it for.  God will still love you.  God will still do good--maybe even great--things through you and for you.  But God's A-Plan for your life?  That's gone.  You threw off His plan and now all that is lost and you're stuck with second-best blessings, like Esau coming back to find Jacob stole his firstborn birthright.  Hopefully, there's something tossed in to the end of Plan-B that let's you get back to Plan A again, or you're screwed for life, sucker--and so am I.

I mean, what would it take to throw off God's A-Plan?  Apparently not much.  Israel managed to do it just by organizing a monarchy, like those of their neighbors.  God directed the appointment of the king and all, but God's A-Plan was blown from the moment they decided they needed a king.  Who knows what "God's people" in the "Church Age" have done to screw ourselves over.  What about Adam and Eve?  All they did was take a bite from the wrong tree and--BLAM--there goes God's best for all Creation (you seriously didn't think the Fall was God's Plan-A, did you?).  And since you and I sin in ways greater and lesser than Israel and Eve every single day...yep, we're probably down to the triple Z plan by now.  I know I certainly must be.

If, that is, we can move away from God's best for our lives.

Consider it from God's eternal perspective.  Look back at some of the language in the above paragraphs.  If this is true, if God's best--God's plans--can be derailed by simple decisions from our end, God is in a heap of trouble.  We all sin.  We all make mistakes.  We commit these things by the bucketload, and there are over 7 billion of us on Earth right now, doing nothing but throwing God's plans into utter chaos.  God must have a list of back-up plans long enough to circle the universe--twice--just in order to keep up with our shenanigans.  He must just barely be in control: struggling to steer us all for good while we constantly tug the wheel and nudge the car on to ever bumpier back roads (and into occasional trees).

The problem is that this doesn't seem to be the God of the Bible.  If there's one thing that seems to define God in the Bible, it is that He is in charge.  He is God!  How many times does He say that, in the book of Isaiah alone?  I don't know that I could count them.  What does the Bible say is capable of deferring or derailing God's plans?  Nothing.  The Bible says such an occurrence is strictly impossible.  "Our God is in the heavens; He does whatever He pleases" (Psalm 115:3).  "Whatever the Lord pleases, He does, in heaven and in earth, in the seas and in all deeps" (Psalm 135:6).  Indeed, to prevent Him from doing so, one would have to be greater than Him.  But no one is.  No one can stand against Him.  "The Lord of hosts has sworn:  'As I have planned, so shall it be, and as I have purposed, so shall it stand,...'  For the Lord of hosts has purposed, and who will annul it? His hand is stretched out, and who will turn it back?" (Isaiah 14:24-27).  Perhaps if we think our name is on a list that answers those last two questions, then we can worry about ruining God's plans for our lives.

Some may say at this point, "Well, yes, that is God.  He is all-sovereign and all that.  But you see, God gives us free-will.  Of our own free-will, we can sin and leave what He's planned for us.  We aren't greater than Him, of course, but He gives us free-will enough to upset His plans."  It makes for a nice theological argument, perhaps, but it still isn't Biblical.  The Bible does treat man as a creature with free-will (as he is held responsible for what he does), but at the same time it pointedly includes all mankind in being under the absolute, unbreakable sovereignty of God.  "The mind of man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps" (Proverbs 16:9).  "The lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the Lord" (Proverbs 16:33--for all us gamers).  "Many are the plans in a man's heart, but the council of the Lord will be established" (Proverbs 19:21).  "Man's steps are ordained by the Lord; how then can man understand his way?" (Proverbs 20:24).  "The king's heart is like channels of water in the hand of the Lord; He turns it wherever He wishes" (Proverbs 21:1).  Even evil deeds and people are not excepted.  The Lord intends Joseph's brother's evil actions for good (Genesis 50:20).  The Assyrian kings murder, slaughter, and conquer, boosting themselves in their prowess and the power of their gods--but the God of Israel says their boasting is absurd: they are like an ax in His hand and it is He who has ordained their bloody conquest (Isaiah 10:15).  Even Satan, in all his evil and rebellion, must ask God's permission to cause havoc (Job 1:12 and 2:6).

Certainly, the God of the Bible is in control.  He does not have a list of contingencies He has to keep striking off as we shoot down His favorite plans with our sinful antics.  He has one plan.  That is the plan, and unless we think we can arm-wrestle Him and win, that is the plan that is going to come about and is coming about even now.  The only question then, is does this divine plan represent "God's best?"  In answer, I pose another question: is there any conceivable reason why it would not be God's best?  Given what we know about the sovereignty of God and His love for us, He has absolutely no need to pick a second-best plan, no need to settle for anything.  He can do (will do, and has done) exactly as He pleases, whatever He pleases, and He loves us literally more than life itself (more than His life--which is saying something: as God, His life is awesome).  Does that really look like the bio of somebody who's going to settle for a so-so plan for your life?  He's God.  He doesn't want to settle, and He doesn't have to either.  Why should He?  So, if He has a plan for our lives, you can bet it is His best: His A-Plan.  And if He is the sovereign God the Bible declares Him to be, then you can bet that, no matter how many mistake's you've made, that plan is still in effect, still unfolding in your life, and hasn't even skipped a beat.

That's not to say, of course, that God has to relish every moment of His A-Plan.  Jesus clearly did not look forward to dying on the cross, but God planned this from the very beginning, even foretelling it right after the Fall (Genesis 3:15).  God is "not wishing that any should perish," but in the end He will cast into Hell "everyone whose name has not been written before the foundation of the world in the book of life" (2 Peter 3:9 and Revelation 13:8).  Let's be clear about one thing: not every moment of God's best is going to feel best--not for you, not for God.  Not every moment of the best parenting, the best marriage, or even the best food is pure bliss either--and I think it's intentionally that way.  God could have made a plan where every moment would have been sunshine and roses for everybody, but He didn't.  He made a plan where everybody got hurt at one point or another.  Yet He still made the best plan, and none of the hurts change that or shake His control.

I think, if we realize this--if I realize this--it will change the way we look at life and at ourselves.  If God truly is in control and truly is good and truly loves us (choose: "D, all of the above"), then His plan has already accounted for all of our mistakes, all of our sins, all of the just plain weird and stupid things about us we think couldn't possibly factor in to God's plan in any constructive manner: God has planned for them all, and they are all included in His best (He could have designed your life without any of these things, He could have prevented you from making any given mistake or committing any given sin: He chose not to).  Yes, our sins are still black, our suffering is still real.  So is the suffering of Christ.  But the stars shine best in the deepest darkness, and so also I think the brilliance of God's best is that He sets the glories of our lives and indeed of all Creation in the midst of inky blackness.  It is all a part of God's best for us.  Even our sins, God turns about in His plan to bring good into our lives.  Remember how the Israelites rejected God's direct rule over them and wanted a monarchy just like everybody else (1 Samuel 8:7)?  God used that to bring David to the throne, and Solomon, his son, by which the Israelites knew a prosperity they'd never imagined.  And God loved it.  He established David's line forever (1 Chronicles 17:2) and used it to bring Christ into the world, the ultimate heir of the throne of David.  If Israel had really drifted from "God's best" when they made that decision, you'd think He'd correct it at some point instead of etching it in stone as a part of the plan He'd made before He began Creation.  The truth is, they didn't.  God didn't like their rejection, but He knew it was coming, He'd allowed it to enter the picture, and He'd planned accordingly so that even Israel's rejection played right into His hand.

Applied to my own life, this is an immense comfort to me.  Satan is the accuser, and while Jesus came so that we could share in His joy, and have it to the full (John 15:11), Satan is the thief who comes in to steal and destroy that joy.  When I sin, he is waiting with a laundry-list of accusations.  At the top of that list is this: "You idiot, you just blew God's plan for your life.  Now you're stuck with second-best.  You'll never have what He promised now."  But God is true, and God is sovereign.  His best stands, and I can withstand the Devil with that.  Even when I haven't sinned, I sometimes feel like my life is on the fast track to nowhere.  I'm a college graduate here, living with my folks and working as a cashier.  Really?  Where's the house and the big-bucks career I was supposed to have by now?  What about the mission to deepest-darkest Africa that I was supposed to lead?  Shouldn't I at least be heading back from a Summer Infusion to a semester spent with my small group at church?  Did I miss a turn somewhere?  Have I stepped away from God's best?  Satan would step up in a heartbeat and answer yes, anything to throw me off, get me down, and discourage me in my relationship with God.  But God is sovereign even here, in my old room at home, on my day off from standing behind a register, and He has a plan for my life--which is unfolding even now--and it is the best.  This is God's best, and I will be able to see it as such in time, when everything has unfolded and the full skein of God's work appears in all its glory.  I can rest in that.  I can set my seal to that.  God is true, faithful, good, and in control, and this is His best.  I can enjoy that!

I hope you can, too.

Why We Should Go to Church

Whenever I would think of this question, my mind would immediately go to the command of Hebrews 10:25, "Do not forsake the assembling of yourselves together, as the manner of some is."  I imagined this as a stern command of the apostle, with a disparaging glance to the some who have forsaken this necessary practice.

But why was it necessary?  Must we attend a church in order to know God?  If that were true, God would be someone only available to us on Sunday mornings, and not throughout the week--something which is not only unscriptural but also anathema to most evangelicals.  But if God is available to us outside of church, why do we need to go?  Why the need to "assemble ourselves together"?  Some might say that it is because this is how God wants to be worshiped, by all of us together singing hymns or whatnot, but that simply isn't true.  In John 4:21-23, Jesus rejects both the Jews' worship in the temple of Jerusalem and the Samaritan's worship of God in their own temple.  He doesn't substitute these assemblies with a new one but says, "The hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and in truth, for the Father is seeking such people to worship him."  If we are to be the true worshipers God desires, our worship of him must be in spirit and truth and extend beyond the confines of our congregational assemblies.

So why is our assembly so important?  It turns out that the passage of Hebrews I (mis)quoted earlier has the answer:

And let us consider how to stir one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.

That's why we need to meet together.  We need encouragement and we need to encourage others.  That's it...and that raises some questions for me about our churches.  Are we really fulfilling this command when we go to church, or are our assemblies vain to this end?  Churches, Biblically speaking, do not exist as the entity for a Christian to serve, but as an entity to serve the Christian, a place where he or she can go to encourage others and be encouraged himself in the pursuit of love, good works, and nearness to God.  Do our churches really accomplish that, or have they become self-serving entities whose first goal is to increase their own numbers rather than to enrich the spiritual lives of their congregants?  If the latter is the case with any church we attend, scripturally, we should start looking for another one, as that church no longer helps us obey the command of Hebrews 10:24-25.

A Wedding in Cana

On the third day there was a wedding at Cana in Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there.  Jesus also was invited to the wedding with his disciples.  When the wine ran out, the mother of Jesus said to him, "They have no wine."  And Jesus said to her, "Woman, what does this have to do with me? My hour has not yet come."  His mother said to the servants, "Do whatever he tells you."  Now there were six stone water jars there for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons.  Jesus said to the servants, "Fill the jars with water." And they filled them up to the brim.  And he said to them, "Now draw some out and take it to the master of the feast." So they took it.  When the master of the feast tasted the water now become wine, and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew), the master of the feast called the bridegroom and said to him, "Everyone serves the good wine first, and when people have drunk freely, then the poor wine. But you have kept the good wine until now."  This, the first of his signs, Jesus did at Cana in Galilee, and manifested his glory. And his disciples believed in him.

-John 2:1-11, ESV

By all accounts, this is the very first miracle Jesus did after his incarnation.  We acknowledge it often enough, but do we really ever stop to think about it.  Jesus's first miracle, the one which is said to have convinced his disciples and "manifested his glory" is supernaturally providing an enormous amount of alcohol to a party who's keg had run dry.

Read that again.  If you're like me and used to a Christianity that hates all forms of alcohol, this comes as a shock.  Most churches would only tolerate one consuming, perhaps, a single glass of wine in the privacy of their own homes.  Jesus brings somewhere between 120 and 180 gallons of wine to this party.  That's an average of 757 bottles of the stuff!  How many people where in attendance anyway?  I imagine it was less than 700!  This is incredible and revealing: we cringe at a glass of wine and Jesus "manifests his glory" by bringing enough of the stuff to drown everyone at the party--and do note that they had already drunk through whatever their host had originally provided.

Some have argued that the wine Jesus produced was purely non-alcoholic, non-fermented grape juice.  They point out that the Greek word used for wine here can be used for alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages.  Since they find such a quantity of alcohol morally offensive, they conclude that Jesus certainly could not have made alcoholic wine: he must have made the non-fermented kind.  But we should be careful of this kind of thinking.  Remember the Pharisees and their precious Sabbath.  Jesus delights in smashing people's ideas of what is religiously pious, right, and proper...ideas which they frequently hold in higher esteem than they do him.

Consider the words of the master of the feast.  He was expecting lower-quality wine than what Jesus had provided because this was the usual strategy: start the party off with good wine, and then after the guests had  "drunk freely" bring out the lower quality wine.  Would this strategy work at all if the wine in question was non-alcoholic grape juice?  Absolutely not.  If the first wine was non-alcoholic, the guests would immediately notice the introduction of a lower-quality beverage.  But if the wine was alcoholic...well, people who have "drunk freely" of fermented wine would have their senses dulled a little and substituting the cheep stuff at that point would be something the couple could safely get away with.

So we are stuck with the conundrum of Jesus' "glorious" miracle and our self-righteous rules.  We would probably not have provided the wedding feast with more alcohol, and certainly not in such a staggering amount.  But that was the point, wasn't it?  The couple had run out of the wine they'd had the first time, risking scandal, disgrace and--according to some commentators--litigation.  Jesus provides them with better wine in such a staggering amount that they won't run out of it for weeks!  But our rules would have hampered us from being so generous, were we in his shoes, just as the rules of the Pharisees prevented them from seeing the good in healing people on the Sabbath day.

There are other striking things about this story.  Did you know this is the beginning of Jesus' ministry?  That's right.  Jesus begins his ministry not in a stadium filled with crowds of hungry souls at a Billy Graham-like revival, not at the temple, not with the Sermon on the Mount...Jesus begins his ministry by accepting an invitation to someone else's wedding.  It seems so strange.  Compare it to the grand sweeping claims of the beginning of the book of John.  John proclaims Jesus to be the Word, God himself in the flesh, come down to live among us.  What do we expect?  What would we have done?  Myself, I think I would have descended from the clouds in glory over the temple, surrounded by angels and told everybody who I was from the start.  That would get a lot of worshipers right there!

But Jesus isn't interested in worshipers to subscribe to his religion, he's interested in people who will love him with all his heart.  So he comes in the most unassuming way, just as Isaiah 42:3 says he would, so gently that he wouldn't break a bruised reed or snuff a faintly-burning wick.  He starts out in John 1:29 by arriving at someone else's revival.  Though John the Baptist makes several startling proclamations of who Jesus is, Jesus doesn't respond.  He doesn't step up and take the spotlight.  He doesn't preach any sermons.  He goes off into the desert, endures temptations, comes back and is joined by a handful of John's disciples.  Then, he takes them to a wedding.  I don't know about you, but this doesn't sound like the advent of the world's most important religious figure to me--the advent of the only figure who could rightfully claim to be God.  It just sounds like an ordinary guy going about the business of living life, gaining and loving friends.  This is surprising, but also encouraging.  If this is how Jesus begins his ministry, by just living life, then it means that the first steps in our ministries may very well be the same.  Maybe we don't need to pack up right away and live in an African village with only six hundred Bibles for company in order to serve God--maybe serving Jesus is something we can do in our daily lives, here, now: at something as simple as a friend's wedding.

It gets better.  The party runs out of wine, a potential social disaster, and Jesus steps in and intervenes.  He "manifests his glory" by doing so.  But why?  Thousands of people were dying that day.  Millions were sick.  Many more were lost and in need of a savior.  Yet Jesus doesn't leave the wedding to care to all of these needs.  I believe he, through the Spirit, did care for them, but he doesn't neglect the party either, where the lucky couple is in danger of nothing worse than social embarrassment.  Jesus cares for even that and rescues them from it.

If Jesus manifests his glory by caring for something as "trivial" in the grand scheme of things as wine at a wedding, how will he care for us?  How does he care for us?  If the wedding at Cana is any guide, then he cares for us even in the details, even if we don't ask him to, and even if it upsets the religious conventions of the day.