Security in Scripture and Song

I'm having a rather heated discussion on points of Calvinism on a discussion board right now.  Two related points of Calvinism seem to be the bulk of the disagreement.  The first is the issue of choice.  The Bible says that, in order to be saved, one must believe in Christ (John 13:15), and believing is a choice.  It also says that God chooses us (Ephesians 1:4).  So who has the final say in this matter?  Whose choice is it really?  Some say that it is ours alone, that God chooses everyone but that His choice is only effective if and when those few who become saved choose Him as well.  Some say that the choice is mutual but that it depends on us.  These argue that God (who, the Bible makes clear, made His choice long before we existed) looks ahead in time and anticipates our own decisions.  Those who He finds would have chosen Him anyway, He chooses, and those who would reject Him, He does not choose.  The final say is ours because God only chooses those who would have chosen Him independently.  Yet the Bible makes a different argument.  It says that God's choice is the most important one: so critical in fact, that it is essentially the only choice that matters.  Jesus says to His disciples, those who chose to stay with Him and serve Him to the end, "You did not choose me, but I chose you" (John 15:16).  The Bible also testifies that those who are saved are not saved "of the will of man, but of God" (John 1:13).  The first and final choice, then, is God's, and any human choice to be with God comes about as a result of God's independent decision to win that person for Himself.

Who makes the final choice for salvation isn't just a matter of semantics, because who has the final say in initiating the relationship between God and man that begins on salvation also has the final say in controlling the direction and outcome of the relationship.  If man has the final say in the matter of beginning a relationship with Christ or not, then the inescapable conclusion is that man also has the final say in whether or not the relationship continues, develops, and culminates in Heaven.  If we are the sovereign masters of our election, then we are also able to "un-elect" or "un-save" ourselves.  God is not able to hold onto us because His decision was never the one that really mattered in the first place.  We can walk away from Him and leave Him helplessly pining after us if we so choose.  Needless to say, this is not a Biblical concept--though it does feature prominently in every cult and other non-biblical religion under the sun.  The Bible teaches that nothing is able to separate us from God, and no one is able to take us from His hands (Romans 8:38-39 and John 10:28-29).  Some try to argue that these verses do not apply to the believer himself, since he is not specifically mentioned in either verse, but doing so asserts two patent absurdities: 1) that the believer is not a part of creation (for Romans 8:39 says that nothing "in all creation" can separate us from God) and 2) that the believer is greater than God the Father (the reason Jesus says that no one can deliver from the Father's hand).  Needless to say, both of these are blasphemous heresies.  If the Bible is to be believed, then God and God alone has the last word in saving us and it is by His power alone that we remain saved to the end.

As I said, who makes these choices concerning beginning and ending of a relationship is very important, for the one who makes the choices holds the power in the relationship itself.  This is very important to me personally.  I know that my heart is not all it ought to be.  I know that my decision making process is not reliable.  I am liable to be afraid, to be tempted, to be hit by some crazy whim or tricked by some persuasive argument and say to myself: "Well, God will never love me in this way.  I'll just close off this part of my heart from Him."  One thing I've caught myself doing frequently is measuring myself by some arbitrary set of standards and saying, "I fall short.  God must not love me.  He does, but He can't be allowed to.  It's not good for Him.  The best thing for Him is that we break up."  I don't want to leave Him, but I see my own wickedness (forgetting the cross) and am afraid.  I build walls and--if it were up to me--my relationship with God would stagnate or worse dissolve entirely.  I would trump all His love, sacrifice, decisions, and arguments by saying, "I'm not a good match for you.  This is what's best for you."  I would walk away from the best and truest thing in my life  This is the height of my folly!  Fortunately, God recognizes it for what it is and He is the last word in our relationship, not me.

This song (aside from having an excellent example of product placement--the car at 3:09), illustrates my perennial position in our relationship.  Like the woman in the song, I am so often surprised by God's overwhelming and unexpected love.  He "puts [His] arms around me" but "I believe that it's easier for [Him] to let me go."  I change my mind constantly and wonder how He can put up with it.  I waffle between letting Him "save my life" or letting myself "drown" in sin and self-pity.  At times like these, "the world is coming down on me, and I can't find a reason to be loved."  I "never want to leave" God, but I can't justify staying.  Surely, He will see me for what I am and hate me.  I erect walls in our relationship because I say "I'll never let our love get so close" and "never let [Him] to see the truth", but secretly hope He can "see right through them" because I don't want our relationship to end or stagnate--but I find myself temporarily blind to the possibilities of it continuing.  Fortunately, He sees all.  He pursues relentlessly until He catches me can once more "put [His] arms around me, and I'm home."

God's perspective is different (please forgive the Twilight in this video).  While I am afraid and wonder "how can I love" Him, He is confident and sovereign.  "Watching [Him] stand alone, all of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow."  I hear Him proclaim His sacrificial love, "dying...waiting for [me]" as He's "loved [me] for a thousand years, and [He'll] love [me] for a thousand more."  "Don't be afraid," He says.  He tells me "I will not let anything take what's standing in front of me"--and He sees my beauty (which I can never seem to perceive in front of Him).  His steadfast love melts away my doubts and silences my fears.  I find myself coming "one step closer."  I realize that this step is one of many I have made--and that, since He always wins these contests of ours, it is the only one of a multitude I will make toward Him in the future.  In the end, He wins and I rejoice in that!

Yep, it's Taylor again.  My private security with God gives me the ability to have public confidence in Him.  Because "this is ours" I can face high stakes and rough waters.  People may say what they like about God and about me (and people seem to nothing so well as judging).  Satan may "lurk in the shadows" and hurl his accusations, but "they can't take what's ours."  My relationship with God is unshaken.

Okay, so I'm not a Katy Perry fan, but this song was too appropriate (and the military theme too cool) to pass up.  As I was saying, my relationship with God is "the part of me that you're never gonna ever take away from me."  This is not to say that I cannot or do not take constructive criticism (I request it), but it does mean that I am unmoved by spiteful words, whether from men or from Satan.  I can show courage and defiance in the face of them.  "Throw your sticks and your stones, throw your bombs and your blows, but you're not gonna break my soul"--which is in His keeping.  When the imperfect love of others tears "at the seams" and they "chew me up and spit me out, like I was poison in [their] mouth,"  then "when I throw my phone away" I find that God "is really there for me."  I emerge victorious, "sparkling, a firework, a dancing flame" that they can never put out--because God will always be there for me, a part of me that can never be taken away: not by me and certainly not by them.

Gospel Dream

Last night I dreamed I was a trafficked woman in the sex trade (disclaimer: this was a dream, I do not pretend to know the awful reality of what these women actually go through on a daily basis or how they escape; I only know what I dreamed).

I dreamed that it was a cloudy, windy day.  I had to go out and work the streets for my master who terrified me.  I went out wearing only a string bikini and an oversized jacket--as a concession from my master to the weather.  The jacket covered my arms and torso and I could shield my hands by driving them deep into the pockets, but my legs were exposed.  The wind was biting against my bear legs and I was so embarrassed, so ashamed, and yet my fear compelled me out onto the streets.  And so I walked.  I didn't know who might be associated with my master, and who might report me to him, so I always behaved as if he were watching my every move.  The men who leered at me and whistled at my bare legs frightened and disgusted me, but I flirted with them.  I had to, I was so afraid of my master's anger.

As I walked I was miserable.  I knew I didn't want to live this life.  I knew I wanted out of here.  I wanted to be warm and loved and cared for, but I didn't think that was possible.  I started back, toward the brothel where I lived.  As I walked my walk of shame in the frigid wind, a police car drove along the street behind me. I knew that these men had the power either to set me free or punish me for what I was doing.  I hoped they would set me free, but I feared my master, so I tried not to draw their attention.  Nevertheless, I was so cold I wanted to get back to the brothel quickly, where at least I would be out of the wind.  So, when it came time to cross a street, I jaywalked in front of the cop car.  At first nothing happened.  The car turned on the same street I was walking down and drove past as I continued walking.  Then, the car turned and stopped in a parking lot.  Two officers came out and approached me.  "How old are you, miss?" one of them asked.  I knew what they were asking.  I was clearly a hooker, and if I was under 18, I was illegally employed.  I guess I could have answered a lot of ways.  I could have told them that I was underage and begged them to get me out of here.  I could have told them I wasn't, and pleased my master.  But I was so miserable and afraid I broke down and in tears told them the truth.  "I don't know if I'm over 18," I said.  I was at their mercy.  I was either a criminal or a victim and they could decide how to deal with me, punish me or rescue me, or leave me to my master--who would no doubt be upset.

"That's alright, miss," said the officer, putting his arm around my shoulder and leading me off the sidewalk.  "You can come with us."  He took me to the car and said they'd take me away from here.  One of them started calling in a trafficked juvenile rescued while the other opened the back door for me.  In the back seat, I found a folded set of clothes, for me.  On top was a pair of pants--probably one of the officer's cast-offs--to cover my freezing legs.  I pulled them on immediately.  "Thank you for the pants!" I said, and then I woke up.

On waking, I immediately realized there was more to my dream then met the eye.  Though I was not a trafficked girl, I was the girl in my dream.  I had been a slave to sin.  Satan was my master, hemming me in with fear, guilt, and shame--keeping me in sin.  I don't want to live that life, I didn't want to, but I couldn't get out on my own.  God came, like the cops in my dream.  He could have condemned me, prostituting myself to other gods and offending Him.  He could have left me.  But He didn't, He called to me and I admitted the helplessness of my situation to Him.  Then, He saved me.  He covered me over with His own love and righteousness, like that pair of pants--taking away my shame and shielding me from the world.  "Thank you for the pants, God," I whispered.

Earned Love and True Love

So, I've got an idol that I keep close to my heart.  I guess you could say that this idol is really the closest one to my heart.  I never go after any others unless this idol has (as it inevitably does, being an idol) let me down.  This idol is called Work.  Work, for me, is never an end in itself (at least not when I'm serving this idol).  It's always a means to an end: a way of earning something.  There are so many things to earn: money, fame, respect, praise.  None of these things, by themselves, really appeals to me.  The thing I'm trying to earn most often is love.

The question is, is this even possible?  Is it possible to earn love?  My idol says it is.  People judge me based on what I do, and if I do the right things, then I will be acceptable to them and loved by them.  My idol says that it works the same with god.  What I want, more than anything, is His love, and this, says Work, I must earn.  god sees what I do, and his approval or rejection of me rises or falls with my actions: he does not see my heart or my intent--and if he does he does not care.  Intentions are cheep: actions are what counts.

The problem with this approach to god is that it never works out.  If I were to read the Bible and simply jot down every action God commends, I would have a list a mile long of things I need to do to earn god's love.  I would never get them all done.  I could try--I have tried--but in the end I am left only with exhaustion and the realization that I have failed.  I have not lived up to every single commanded work, and in so doing, I have failed to earn god's love.  I have instead invited his hatred.  Condemnation comes from my idol of Work now, and this is the point where I usually run off in search of comfort in some other idol--believing that I cannot now hope to have it in God.

But this is a false gospel assaulting my heart.  It is a lie because, at bottom, True Love cannot be earned by any means.  After all, it is easy to say, "I love you" to someone who has done incredible works for you.  Anyone can do that.  Even the most reprobate people who drift from relationship to relationship only ever caring about themselves can still give "earned love."  When the works falter or stop, these people just as quickly go cold--for they never loved in the first place, not really.  They were only attracted to the works that were done for them.  True Love is something permanent and stable.  It cannot be earned.  Works done by the beloved or misdeeds committed cannot either increase or decrease it.  It is this Love that will prompt a wife to remain faithful to a husband who's in a coma.  It is this Love which every woman seeks when she asks "will you love me when I'm old and ugly?"  Earned love is cheap, but this Love is described in the Bible as being so valuable that all the riches of a billionaire would be considered a contemptuously low offer for its purchase (Song of Solomon 8:7).  This kind of Love is not for sale at any price.

This is the kind of Love God offers me.  He does not offer earned love.  God gave the law to Israel as an experiment hundreds of years long to prove that His requirements for earned love could not possibly be met (Romans 3:20).  Then, while we were yet sinning despicably against Him and provoking His righteous anger, He demonstrated once and His True Love for us, by the greatest act of Love ever: giving His life for us on the cross (Romans 5:8).  This is the same Love He extends to me even now.  When I try to earn His love, He is not impressed.  When I fail and despair of His love, He still extends True Love to me, which nothing can buy.  His forgiveness and grace prove false my idol of Work.  I cannot earn His love, for it is eternally mine!