Learning History

There is a famous quote from George Santayana that goes like this: "Those who cannot remember their past are condemned to repeat it."  That best sums up the reason I write this today, for I have seen it come true in the church and college ministry I attended in Fort Collins.

This church is a proud member of the Great Commission Movement, whose full history may be viewed here.  What I want to point out here as being of particular note was the criticism and accusations of cult-like activity that the Movement came under in the 1970's and 80's (covered here in the Wikipedia article on the Movement).  The Movement, in general, responded negatively toward this criticism at first, excommunicating an estimated 500 members, but in 1991 began to see that parts of the criticism were, sadly, valid and issued A Statement Recognizing Early Errors and Weaknesses in the Development of the Great Commission Association of Churches.  The statement recognized a number of church errors and listed actions to be taken to correct these errors and reconcile the church with alienated former members.  The statement was ratified by the Movement's pastors and national leaders on July 19, 1991.

That being said, it should be old news, totally without importance today.  The statement was issued a full 21 years ago and everything it admits should no doubt have been addressed by now.  However, I would still recommend any current or prospective members of the Great Commission Movement or its affiliated churches and ministries to read the statement for themselves.  I would also advise members of the leadership of the same to make the statement a part of the curriculum for new members or at least new leaders and elders.  Admittedly, a statement of errors past is not good promotional material.  FedEx would probably be ill-advised to post the video of one of their employee's tossing a computer monitor on their site or use it at the end of a commercial.  However, it would probably be a good idea to show the video during employee or management training sessions to make sure the next generation of FedEx employees know that this is not acceptable behavior.  The Great Commission Movement should similarly use this Statement of Error to their advantage--for those who do not learn their history are doomed to repeat it.

As it is today, neither the past criticism nor the statement made in response to it are common knowledge among members of the Great Commission Movement.  The statement itself cannot be found on any Great Commission website.  I had to go to one of the sites of the Movement's critics to find it.  So it seems today that the Great Commission does not recall its history and, sadly, my personal experience is that they are indeed repeating it.

In section 2, part 1 of the statement, the Movement confesses, "In the past, we did not always clearly communicate the difference between a scriptural command, a scriptural principle, and a personal preference.  And while it is not always easy to determine those differences, it is important to do so in order to allow individuals in the church to hold and express biblically-based convictions that are different from those of their leaders."  And further, "failing to properly distinguish a command from a principle or preference resulted at times in legalism.  An individual who had a conviction contrary to that of the pastors was sometimes considered rebellious, even though that conviction was one permitted by the Word.  The result was that a person might be forced to choose between violating his or her conscience or remaining 'rebellious.'"

One of the admitted examples of this failure follows:

A third example of our failure to clearly distinguish between commands and principles concerns the area of dating. Many of us in the early years of our churches encouraged young men and women to refrain from dating until they had a fairly strong conviction that God was leading them toward marriage to a particular individual. This had some very positive results including the lack of many problems that casual dating can cause (temptation to immorality, trauma and strife because of romantic breakups, distraction from a devotion to holiness and service to the Lord) and contributed to the formation of many, many strong marriages. However, it also had negative results including alienating believers who did not share our preference and causing some who did to develop a bad attitude toward Christians who dated. It is our present understanding that discouraging casual dating was a preference of many of us leaders and not a command or even a principle of Scripture, although there are many principles that may be used to support the preference. We believe that individuals are free to have different preferences as to how serious they want to be before they begin dating someone. Pastors may suggest or encourage their own personal preference concerning dating, as well as their reasons for that preference, but they should be careful to clearly communicate that it is simply their preference, and that others may be equally valid.

 Here, I am sorry to say the church and especially the college ministry I attended has repeated history with a vengeance.  The college ministry published, distributed, and delivered a series of messages on a booklet entitled "Rock Solid Relationships" in 2008 that presented a model of relationships that rejected dating as "God's standard."  The group's teaching and especially the private sessions with its leaders communicate that any other preference on dating is a sin.  A leader of the group has repeatedly expressed disdain to me for those who hold other preferences and especially their church and para-church organizations--accusing them of enforcing or allowing a culture of divorce and sexual immorality.  Many good marriages have resulted from following this preference, of course, but these have not been without their trials and more than one couple who eventually courted and got married to the joy of the church were subjected to months or years of guilt from their leaders for even having feelings for each other.  Those Christians who do not share or agree to this preference are not told that their convictions may be equally valid but are accused of sinful living or desires.  If they persist, they are labeled as "rebellious" and ostracized from the group or subjected or threatened with church discipline (another part of the statement addresses the Movement's improper use of church discipline).  In some instances, members yielding to this pressure have rushed into marriages to avoid the guilt and criticism, only to have these ill-advised marriages fall apart.  When pressed, some members of the group leadership did admit that their attitude toward dating was not a command but a principle.  At no point did anyone admit or even seem to be aware that it was nothing more than a preference or personal conviction, and that others might be equally valid.

There are other ways the group is repeating history.  They have demonstrated "the expectation that all believers be as actively involved as we were in sharing the gospel and the conclusion that if they were not they were not obeying God's perfect will for their lives" (Section 1, Part 2).  This is particularly evident in the views some members have developed on school work, who view any time it interrupts their church involvement as a fault to be ashamed of.  This also is repeating history, as the statement confesses that the Movement has historically demonstrated a "lack of emphasis on formal education," confessing, "In most cases, this lack of emphasis on education resulted in the failure by church leaders to stress to students the importance of committing their time and effort to excelling in their studies, and the resulting belief that involvement with church activities was more important than schoolwork" (Section 2, Part 5).  There have also been times when leaders, in discipling others, have been "overly directive in the personal affairs of church members and," more damagingly, "were not...sufficiently sensitive to the Holy Spirit's leading in the person's life" (Section 2, Part 2).

I offer this and the links to the statement itself as constructive criticism, as lessons in history.  Myself, as an individual and an administrator of an online forum have often had to learn the importance of listening to criticism and learning from history the hard way.  It is my hope that the Great Commission Movement may be spared having to repeat the darker aspects of its history any further and that its members and leaders may individual be spared participating in or experiencing such repetition themselves.

True Grace

There's a woman I'm talking with online who is appalled at my lack of faith in God.  She's said to me:  "Having a FORM of godliness but denying its power. That's you....I would really rather be part of this world then grovel with you and your lack of knowledge of our Christ! I'm stunned......have you ever seen a healing....do you ever experience His unmistakable presence...or do you prefer to stick to your powerless doctrine to ease your own conscience??"

Regular readers of this blog may be surprised to hear such accusations aimed at me, especially considering my last post was on dealing with accusations that I trusted God with too much power, and much of this blog consists of knowing and experiencing God in intimate ways.

Some context is necessary.  The person who said these things is a frequent poster on a Christian discussion board I'm an administrator of.  Over the past couple weeks, she has stridently proclaimed, "the gospel of grace."  She proclaims the law abolished by Christ's sacrifice and accordingly seems to think that any believer who feels obligated to obey any command of scripture (including the "law of Christ" from Galatians 6:2) is trying to earn their salvation.  She repeatedly declares that the believer should have "no consciousness of sin," meaning they should be totally oblivious to it, to the point that she opposes a Christian confessing his sin as an abhorrent act (and going further, she opposes even the scriptural saying that we are "jars of clay," which is apparently demeaning to say about such "children of God" as we are).  She maintains that her view does not promote a lifestyle of living in sin, nor that believers are themselves perfect, but how those two work out is a mystery to me.  If we are not perfect, we sin, and if we are blind to all sin in our lives and yet still sin (because we are imperfect) we cannot but continue in that sin, oblivious to it.  Somehow grace is supposed to fix that logical inconsistency.  Additionally, because of grace, a true believer can never do anything to displease God (not that there is any restriction on their actions, just on God's emotional responses).  All this is background however, to the remarks above.  They actually took place in another discussion, where she preached a new part of this gospel: that God would never use sickness to discipline His children and--further--that any Christian with sufficient faith and knowledge would never know illness.

Scriptural proofs were traded back and forth.  But I will not rehash the arguments here.  My question regards her claim and accusation about me.  Does her viewpoint represent "true grace?"  By holding something different, am I holding something less?  Is this "good news" she's proclaimed really better than what I have heard, or worse?  To put it more concretely, does confession undermine grace or highlight it?  Does humility glorify God or insult Him?  Is God less loving if we can displease Him?  And finally, is a God who allows sickness powerless?

In answer to the question about confession, it depends.  I have to say, she's got a point here.  With certain types of confession--the kinds I used to do and am sometimes still tempted to engage in, the confession undermines grace.  This is because its a confession that's made not for forgiveness but for guilt.  I used to do this all the time.  I would sin and I would realize it and then turn around to confess that sin to God...and then confess it again (not sin again, confess the same sin twice)...and then again...and then again.  All through the day I might bring the same sin I'd committed late last night before God, allegedly so He would forgive me.  Really, while words asking for forgiveness came out of my mouth, my heart wasn't accepting any forgiveness at all, nor was I willing to forgive myself.  My real purpose in "confessing" was so I could bring the sin back to mind and bludgeon myself with guilt over it.  God had a thing or two to say about that and eventually got me straightened out (if you've been reading my blog, you've probably seen some of the entries that touched on that).

Now what I practice is a different kind of confession with a different intent and result.  Rather than "bringing my sins to God" so I can wallow in guilt over them, I bring them to Him so I can be free of them.  I realize, of course, that as a Christian I am forgiven and no longer subject to the penalty of sin (Hell), nor am I any longer sin's slave--but I sure can act that way!  I can go out and chase after something I know is wrong by telling myself that it isn't wrong at all.  Doesn't all temptation begin this way?  A lust or desire rears its head where it ought not, and it just seems so innocent...what could possibly be wrong about entertaining it, just for a second or two.  Of course I know it's not what God says I should do, but I'll ignore Him just for a second, and be right back!  But seconds become minutes and minutes hours...if I'm not careful I can find myself having spent most of a day trying to shut out all awareness of God while I pursued some sinful desire.  Confession is how I stop.  Rather than beating myself up about those hours, its a simple admission that what I did in them was wrong and that I really do want to stop, an acknowledgement that I actually am trying to ignore God and a willingness to let down my walls before Him once more.  Once I make such a confession, I am immediately aware of God's forgiveness and experience intimacy with Him once more.

I dare to say that this kind of confession doesn't undermine grace at all, but highlights it.  After all, this confession hinges on grace.  If not for God's grace, this confession is useless.  Its entire intent is to admit mistakes so that they can be forgiven and reversed, but without grace there would be no forgiveness and no possibility of coming back into God's arms.  Such confessions acknowledge grace, for grace is their end.  They are said once, as I repent, and not repeated because the sin is gone, covered by grace, and the fellowship is restored by grace (since I, by grace, am no longer trying to block out God).  One great advantage of these confessions over no confession at all is that these acknowledge the power of grace because they show what that grace has covered.  If a man says, "My wife still loves me and forgives me," that sounds nice enough.  It's nice to hear people love each other, though we really don't know how much the wife loves him or what she forgives him of.  But if the man adds the explanation: "I had an affair and fathered a child with my wife's best friend," then it's a different story.  Now we know that not only does this man's wife love him, but she loves him in a deep, profound way.  Before, her forgiveness, which seemed a light thing (what did he do, leave the toilet seat up?) seems almost superhuman.  The grace she shows her husband is magnified by the knowledge of what it covers.  So also a man who stands behind the pulpit and says, "I'm forgiven by the blood of Jesus" magnifies God's grace, but a man who says, "I was employed by the Sanhedrin to imprison and exterminate Christian, but now I'm forgiven by the blood of Jesus" magnifies it more!

This brings us to the next question: does humility shame God or glorify Him?  Paul I think, says enough that we can definitively say, "Yes" and even give a reason.  He says, "But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us" (2 Corinithians 4:7, NIV).  This is what humility does.  True humility shows how great God is.  It's like Indigo Montoya fighting with his left hand.  That he uses the wrong hand doesn't demean him in any way.  Rather, the results he's able to achieve using the wrong hand highlight just how skilled of a swordsman he is.  So also it is with us.  God uses us to accomplish His glorious will, when we are, really, nothing but dust (for that was what He made us from).  He is not shamed by this, but rather it shows how great His power really is.  If this is what He can do through fallible, mortal, human proxies, how great a God He must be in person!  Now, of course, the woman had a point in her responses.  She countered by saying I mustn't say such humble things for I was a "son of God."  And she is right in that I am a son of God.  But is this lessened in any way by admitting I am a "jar of clay" as well?  By no means!  Rather, to say I am a jar of clay, but that by grace I am a son of God glorifies God more!  He can, literally from dust, raise up sons of God!  And so, it is best to acknowledge both, to be humble and yet bear about and proclaim one's identity in Christ.  In so doing, the grace of God that brings all-surpassing power to jars of clay is magnified!

For the next question, we'll use two foundational assumptions, which both sides would agree on.  First, that God loves us unconditionally and independent of what we do or don't do (His love is not earned).  Second, that we Christians are not perfect people, we still do the wrong things from time to time.  So the question is, at those times, if our wrong behavior (sin) displeases God, does that make Him less loving?  The poster seemed to think so, but I have to say she totally missed the point there.  People, and God no less, have emotional responses to other people's actions.  Certain actions from others bring them pleasure, certain others, displeasure.  The degree to which these reactions can occur is directly proportional to the love and intimacy of the relationship in question.  Take a simple situation: a co-worker you met yesterday (and talked to for only five minutes, during which it slipped that tomorrow was your birthday) forgets your birthday.  Will this upset you?  Unlikely.  You are not very close to this person at all.  You don't expect much of them.  Even if this coworker were to be rude to you, it would probably only be a nuisance.  But what if it's not a strange coworker, but your closest friend whom you've known for years and years.  Now you're no doubt hurt and upset.  How could your best friend have forgotten your birthday?  And if your friend is rude to you--well, that's really upsetting1  Does all of this prove that you're closer to an unknown co-worker than to your best friend?  By no means!  The reason your friend's behavior can actually hurt you and displease you so much is because you love them more and are closer to them.  So it is with God.  If god were to keep smiling down on me and saying, "Isn't he something?  I'm so proud of him," while I surfed porn or went on a shooting spree at the mall, I would have to conclude that god's love was very distant.  If he doesn't care what I do with myself, its safe to say he doesn't care about me either.  However, if doing these same things hurts and displeases God, and might even provoke Him, then I know He cares.  If every idle word I speak makes a difference to Him, then how great and intimate His love must be!

Now we come to the final question: is God powerless if Christians get sick?  First of all, it cannot be denied that Christians do, in fact, get sick.  The answer, then, depends on why you think the Christians are sick in the first place.  If Christians are sick not because God allows it but because of some failing of themselves that God can't help (which was, ironically, her position--she believed the failing was insufficient faith), then yes: sick Christians prove an impotent God.  After all, if God were really powerful, nothing He didn't allow would happen.  He would be able to overcome these Christian's deficiencies and heal them or--better still--keep them in perfect health.  However, if God is in control of the sickness and the Christians are only sick because He allows it to be so, then God's sovereignty and power are absolute.  He is not bound by faith or lack of faith, sickness or health: He does what He pleases.  Now, does this show God is unloving, that He allows sickness?  I do not think so.  Paul provides an example.  He suffered a "thorn in the flesh"--some unspecified malady that Christ simply refused to heal him of, no matter how many times He asked.  But the reason Christ refused was that this "thorn" kept Paul humble.  If not for the thorn, Paul might have been puffed up with pride, disrupting his relationship with God (who opposes the proud) and ruining his ministry.  The fallout of such pride would have been enormous for Paul: it would have ruined him!  By comparison, a nagging infirmity is inconsequential and when God chooses to deliver that to stave off Paul's ruining himself, He actually proves that He loves Paul enough to do whatever it takes to preserve him!

So, in conclusion, true grace is not what this woman proclaimed.  Her gospel is not more glorious than the one I hold.  It does not proclaim a greater grace, but a lesser one--one which cannot confess what it was we were saved from and cannot acknowledge the humble origins from which Christ has raised us up.  It does not preach a more loving God, but a less loving God--one which does not give a damn what we do with our time or how we respond to Him.  It does not preach a more powerful God, but a handcuffed one--who is powerless to control our sicknesses and can't even have a reaction to our behavior (even I can respond express displeasure toward anyone who does enough to provoke it--but god apparently cannot).  True grace takes place in the true world--just as it is, full of Christians who sin, get sick, and are ultimately descended from a man created out of dust--and is administered by the true God--whose sovereignty is absolute and who's heart is close enough to be injured.  This is true grace, that brings them together!

Trust and Obey

I haven't posted in a while.  A lot has been going on in my life, with graduation and all...looking for a job, etc.  At the same time, not much has been going on in my life, it seems.  I haven't felt I had anything to write for ages.    I've been feeling kind of listless, directionless, especially in my spiritual life.  At first I thought it was just a dry spell, something that just happens and then goes away again without rhyme or reason.  But the longer it went on, the more I wondered.

There was an incident a few months back, a big blow-up between myself and some of my near and dear friends--where the rifts made and the relationships destroyed have never been repaired.  I don't like to think about it.  I have forgiven everyone involved, sincerely, even though none of them have apologized (as I've learned, though, that doesn't matter, because God forgives us even our unconfessed sins).  I just want to put it all behind me.  But there are still consequences of what happened then.  I knew that one of them is that those friends I lost or was distanced from cannot be restored by any effort of my own.  But what about spiritual consequences?  One of my friends had warned me that in letting my "theology get tangled" in the situation, he believed I had "made a shipwreck" of my faith.  Was that really what had happened?  I had believed that God was at work in the situation between me and my friends, and that I could trust His guidance there.  Had I been wrong?  Several of my friends very strongly felt it was so.  Was this the reason for the slowdown in my spiritual life, that I'd trusted God too far and in too much detail?

Like I said, I tried to avoid the question.  A big dramatic blow-up like that isn't exactly anyone's favorite moment to dwell on, and I didn't want to give any opportunity for bitterness to develop in my heart.  But last night, God brought the situation back to the fore.  It turned out that it was that situation that had damaged my faith.  I had trusted that I could hear from God, personally, any time on any thing.  I had obeyed His direction at every step, only to have the whole situation blow up in my face.  As I usually do, I blamed myself.  I wondered if I'd been mistaken: maybe I never heard from God at all.  Maybe I couldn't.  Though I continued to listen in prayer and obey, to an extent, I was hesitant now.  Was I really hearing from God?  After all, the last time I thought I'd heard from Him, I'd royally screwed up, right?

I don't think so.  What I saw last night was that everything had been going exactly and perfectly according to what God had shown me would come to pass between me and my friend, and continued to go that way, as long as everyone involved trusted and obeyed Him.  But a year or so before everything fell to pieces, my friend stopped trusting.  She had heard something that didn't set well with her and, on advice from some people from her church, she decided that her friends, her heart, and her church were more accurate barometers for the will of God than what He had miraculously revealed to her.  She stopped trusting.  She stopped obeying.  Immediately, the conflicts that formed the basis of the big blow-up reared their heads.  From that point on, nothing I did in trusting or obeying made a difference for the relationship.  As long as one side or the other wasn't trusting God, the blow-up was only a matter of time.

So what was I doing here, four months later, questioning whether what God was miraculously revealing to me was really His will or not?  I was repeating my friend's moves, the very ones that made that painful blow-up inevitable.  It seems that, for me, unconsciously repeating her mistake was a consequence of the situation.

Once I realized what was going on, my doubts and questions all unsnarled.  I had dared believe in a God Who was as real in my life today as He was in the lives of saints in the Bible--and I wasn't wrong.  There is no evidence to support that conclusion at all.  Yes, God had told me that things were in His will that didn't come to pass, but lots of things happen that aren't in line with God's will (as in His desires and feelings--sin, for instance, would be a violation of His will that happens quite regularly--; His ultimate plan and purpose, of course, cannot be thwarted) and I already know that both from experience and the Bible.  That doesn't mean I can't trust Him.  That doesn't mean I should hesitate in obeying Him.  I felt like a two-ton weight had evaporated from my heart!  I will dare believe what I once believed, that there is a God in Heaven Who reveals Himself to me, Who cares about me, about even the details of my life and the desires of my heart, Who is involved and powerful, Who can be trusted and obeyed.

Dream Girl

There's an internet meme that runs something like this:

A woman's heart should be so lost in God that a man has to seek Him in order to find her.

There is no male equivalent for this saying.  There ought to be, in my opinion.

I am determined to live a life of pursuing God, of listening and yielding to His voice at every turn.  In my life, there will be no check against His influence, no other force to rival it.  My own feelings, my own thoughts, and the words of even the dearest friend and most trusted adviser will not hold a higher or even an equal place.

I have found this to be a necessity.  If I want to live a life all out for God, holding nothing back, then I must trust Him completely and without reservations.  If I hold back and put my trust in any other thing, it will fail.  If I trust my feelings, my heart is full of lies and old wounds, upon which I will be irrecoverably ruined if I heed them above the Spirit.   If I trust my thoughts, I find I am often mistaken in my opinions, and a mistaken belief can be fatal on the roads I will tread.  Only God can protect me from such things.  If I trust others above God or equal to His voice, they are human at best and twisted at worst.  At best, they may make an honest mistake and cost me much pain.  At worst, they pervert the truth and those who listen to them are tossed about by their winds of doctrine, with no anchor to hold them true.  No, I will trust God to the point of placing no confidence in any other source (by comparison).

I would like a wife.  A marriage is a beautiful thing, a picture of the divine romance between a human being and eternal God.  For that reason, it is also some of the most perilous territory out there.  I believe that God still wants me to travel that territory, for His glory, and I find this desirable.  However, I recognize that it will take a special kind of woman to walk that country with me.  It will not be safe, or ordinary.  Nothing is for those who truly follow God.  He has quite the wild side.  No ordinary woman will be capable of walking the path I will walk.  No woman who values safety above all else will dare.

So, I have some base requirements, some standards I will not negotiate on.  The woman I will pursue must be able to hear from the Spirit, and listen to Him.  She must love Him, be taken with Him.  He must be the most valuable thing in her life, for the journey we take will likely cost us everything else.  She must also place His voice and His influence first, above all others, including my own.  Her heart will not be any more perfect than mine, and if she listens to it above God she will be ruined beyond my help on the roads we will travel.  Her friends will not be any more enlightened either, nor will the world's influences be kinder, and if these are her council she will be destroyed.  I do not want to lose her to either of these influences, for it is with this one other person that I intend to share my body and soul.  Yet God must be more important and influential to each of us (as the Creator of our souls and bodies) than either of us, for we will not be perfect (I know I am not) and if we are the rulers in each others kingdoms, civil war will kill us both.  If Christ rules our hearts, then we will prosper and grow together.

I am not going to hold these out as prerequisites, per se.  I am willing, if the Lord wills it, to come alongside a woman who does not yet have these qualities and, with His grace, help her grow in them.  She does not have to demonstrate these qualities constantly, for I know I slip, but God provides grace.  They must be her character, though, or she must have that character grown in her.  These are my requirements, and I will give no lesser woman a second look, regardless of her figure.  If this is not her identity in Christ, then she is not my dream girl.

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!