Sports and Worship

Today I'm going to address two subjects. One has been a big part of my life for a long time, but interestingly not a very big part of this blog.  The other has been an even bigger part of my life but not for quite as long, and therefore has been a huge part of this blog since its beginning.  Now, had I come up with a more creative title for this post I could make a dramatic revelation of what these two mystery topics are at this point... but instead I'll just refer you to the top of the post.  They're even in the right order!  How convenient.

To begin with, I want to subdivide the sports category into two parts: being a sports fan (i.e. watching/following sports), and being an athlete (i.e. playing sports).  I'll take on the subject of fandom first.  I got thinking about this because I had the opportunity to go see an Indians game with a collection of very cool people yesterday.  It was a wonderful time (and the home team actually won, a rarity for games I've been to recently) and I feel very thankful to God to have been part of it.

I'm a worship leader at my church (don't worry, this is relevant to the previous paragraph, just hang on), and God has been challenging me to lead a life of worship, not just when I'm on stage or playing my guitar but all the time.  I was struck again at the baseball game how much seeing a live sporting event is like going to a worship service.  I mean, there's singing, clapping, listening, watching... even prayer sometimes.  All the elements are there-- the question in my mind is just: what is being worshiped?

I'm still not sure what I think about this.  I do know I used to be one of the biggest sports fans of anyone I know. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that I followed all the major sports religiously, and I'd go so far as to say that sports were an idol for me.  Even as God has been helping me put things back in the right order, though, I've been wondering what the proper place of sports is.  I think it's easy to use sports as an escape from the real struggles of the real world-- that's what I was doing before.  Part of me wants to say I should just throw it all the way out of my life if it could cause me to sin, but I don't think that kind of legalism is what relationship with God is all about.  Plus, even after God has broken my idol, I still really enjoy watching sports! So what do I make of that?

My current take on it is that I just need to stay in the real world.  I'm not sure I can explain what that means, but I know when I've left reality to live in a false world, whether of sports, video games, or whatever.  I also know that I didn't feel like that after the game yesterday.  I felt like the game was secondary to the fact that we were able to build community, at least for me.  I think it's a good sign that I had at least two conversations that were more interesting to me than the game.  In fact, the game can even help keep things from getting awkward or uncomfortable by removing the pressure to talk about something all the time.  If you pay attention, though, you can have meaningful and important conversations in and around the action in a totally natural way.  Baseball works especially well for this since there are significant stretches where literally nothing happens, but it applies to all sports I think.

See, even for people like me who are pretty serious and intense, it's impossible to have "important" conversation all the time.  I don't think human beings can support it... and I'm coming to realize it wouldn't even be healthy to do so!  We have to prove ourselves to our friends by being present and real in the little things before we have any credibility on the big things.  And sports, it turns out, are just about the easiest and most enjoyable common ground point I can think for making an initial connection with someone.  So if I can stay in the real world (that God rules) and not lose track of what's really important (living a life that honors Him and recognizes his presence), I can not only enjoy a fun game but also honor God by building relational equity and new friendships (and then by thanking him for all of it!).  If I lose track of reality, sports can swallow my life.  Simple as that.

I think the same thing applies to playing sports as well.  I've always loved running around like a crazy person chasing a ball or frisbee or really anything else sports-related-- never met a sport I didn't like.  It's hard to explain to someone who doesn't have it, but there's this innocent joy in just testing what I can do and enjoying what I'm physically capable of.  I never really understood how that related to worship until recently.  I just read, though, about how all of creation worships God its maker.  Let me quote Psalm 19: 1-5--

"The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge.
There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard.
Their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world.
In the heavens he has pitched a tent for the sun,
which is like a bridegroom coming forth from his pavilion, like a champion rejoicing to run his course."

How do the heavens have a voice?  How can the sun praise God?  These are inanimate objects we're talking about, remember.  I think they worship God because they do exactly what he designed them to do.  That's why all of creation worships God; we're the only part of it that sometimes chooses not to.  But God's design for us is multifaceted for sure.  Yes, we're designed to worship and praise and love, but God also gave me athletic ability and joy in using it.  Can't I worship him by using that gift with a joyful and thankful heart, following in his design?  If you thinking I'm reaching in making that analogy... well, David made the same one in verse five above!  No, not the bridegroom... that's a whole different kind of worship! I'm talking about the champion. Now, I'm not always a champion by any stretch of the imagination, but I know that feeling of rejoicing to run the course.  I praise God for it.

And that's how sports have become part of my relationship with God.  As we keep the focus on him, all his blessings come into proper focus for us.  The question isn't about making a rule of what's right or how much sports is ok, but about learning to walk with the Lord and submitting to his design, staying present in the reality where he reigns and where he deserves more praise than any sports team.  He loves us and has given us so much, but we can only appreciate the gifts fully when they point to the great giver.  Just like at the end of that same Psalm, what matters is this:

"May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer."

Confession and Repentance

So, I know in the past I've said in my introductory paragraph that a blog entry would be short... and it's turned into a total lie.  However, this one really is a quick one (by my standards at least).  I think its importance actually comes in part from the fact that it's so simple.

Basically, God showed me this past week that I haven't really been understanding the process of confession and repentance.

I tend to fall into what Timothy Keller (in his book The Prodigal God, which is an excellent book that also derives some of its effectiveness from being short) would call the "elder brother" category.  Now, I'm an only child, but this refers to the story (Luke 15:11-32) of the lost son(s), in which the older brother is angry when the "prodigal" son is allowed to return.  He had been slaving away sedulously (vocab word for the week) all those years, and the rebellious younger son was welcomed back despite being profligate and wicked.

I don't think I begrudge people their welcome back to God, but the point of the "elder brother" idea is that dedicated people often use (or attempt to use) their morality as leverage on God.  I've been slaving away, so you have to do ____ for me, etc.  Now, when these slavers (like me) actually do mess up, they try to earn their forgiveness the same way.

Ever spend a lot of time beating yourself up for your failures?  I know I have.  I thought that was just part of the deal, like a specific amount of self-flagellation would be necessary as proof of being properly sorry so God could forgive you.  The "bigger" the sin, the more beating up of self needed, right? Interestingly, this is also the younger son in the story's plan, but the father cuts him off in midstream when he tries to execute it.

That's what happened to me too.  I (gasp!) sinned this month, and I was starting to grovel about it when God challenged me to put my silly English major brain to work and remember what some words actually mean: confession, and repentance.

Confession essentially just means stating what you believe to be true.  We confess Christ, for example, when we say we believe he is the Savior.  It's just telling it like it is. 

Repentance, in the literal sense, means turning away from something.  It's not the same thing as being sorry at all... it's more like facing in a different direction.

Confessing sin, then, is just telling God what happened. 

Repenting of sin is the part where you stop thinking about it.

Is that shocking? It is to me!  Something in me doesn't even want to accept that it could be that easy, but the fact remains that Jesus already dealt with our sin on the cross, and God continues to be the good father who cuts us off in the middle of our beating ourselves up.

It's so practical and efficient that it has to be God's design.  We get to just tell God, "I sinned, and this is how."  He is already fully aware of how bad it was, so no editorializing or grovelling on our part is necessary.  Then we're allowed to just leave it behind, trusting that confessing is all we need to do to be forgiven (1 John 1:9). 

By the way, not thinking about sin is just like not thinking about a pink elephant (which you just did, of course).  In order to do it, you have to think about something else, not focus on what you're trying not to think of.  If we try merely to turn away from sin, we have to keep checking to make sure it's still behind us. If you just try not to think about sin, not only are you still thinking about it but you also are much more likely to do it again! We become what we look at, I think.  That's why I recommend instead thinking about Jesus dying on the cross, or the fact that no matter what happens, I'm God's son.  Don't turn away from sin, turn toward Him.  Looking that way moves me to awe and worship instead of gloom and self-focus.  I think that's the only way to do it.

"One thing I do: forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus" (Philippians 3:13-14).

What a privilege!

Stepping In

Disclaimer: this post is not meant to be read while eating. Consider yourself warned.

The more I try to follow Jesus, the more I realize that he is always speaking to us, whether we are listening or not.  He can use any means, any situation, and nothing is too plain or ordinary for him.  He doesn't have to part the heavens; he'll do whatever it takes to get to us.

I know that because this week he spoke to me through a piece of poop.

No, not like an audible voice or anything.  I'll explain.  First of all, though, just a brief sidebar: I will be using the G-rated or PG-rated terms for fecal matter throughout this post (poop and crap, respectively), but I wish it to be known that I find neither of them as satisfying as the PG-13/R-rated term for which they are both euphemisms (although there's no denying that poop is an intrinsically funny word).  I think it has to do with the idea of onomatopoeia-- when you step in some of said substance, it doesn't sound anything like "poop" or "crap"... but it does sound an awful lot like "Sh....."   (at least I think so).  Also, the occasional use of real swear words instead of their socially acceptable equivalents can be more helpful (and probably no more or less offensive to God, who sees our hearts) in relieving real frustration such as what I'm about to describe, I've found.  But, I really don't want to get into the moral discussion of the proper uses (if any) of profanity.  Although, having said all that, it probably can't be helped at this point. ANYway...

To restate my earlier premise, God used some crap to get my attention.  I was moving a bunch of stuff into my new apartment, and I had to park my car on the street (I guess 3rd-floor tenants don't get driveway spots).  So, I was carrying a big box of random stuff through the treelawn.  As you may know, when carrying a big box it is pretty hard to see the ground near your feet.

So yeah, I stepped all up in that stuff (a prime example of a situation where using the real word would be more satisfying).  Not one of those glancing blows where you just wipe it off real quick, but one of those where you look down and the whole pile is smashed flat and a large portion is still adhering to and squishing around the side of your shoe.  Very frustrating, and not at all what you want to be tracking into your new apartment, especially when to get there you have to walk up a common staircase past two other people's doors whom you'd like to have a cordial relationship with.

Something had to be done, so I left my shoes at the door, took the box up to my place in my socks, and got some paper towels. Unfortunately, I was wearing basketball shoes.  As a former shoe salesman, I know that the benefits of this shoe style include superior impact absorption (for jumping), great ankle support, and good traction.  Well, the traction part turns into a big disadvantage if you step in some crap, because all those little rubber zigzags make for some pretty impossible crevices to clean with paper towels.  So there I was, sitting on my new doorstep, very intently scraping poop out of the treads of my shoe with a tiny stick.

And then God said, "What if you were this diligent about getting rid of the crap that's in your heart?"

At least, that's the best wording I can put to the conviction I felt in my spirit.  How often am I content to just leave my sin sticking to me and track it all around my own life and the lives of those around me?  It's not big... just like poop isn't real big.  It isn't the size that's the problem... it's the content, the dirt, and... the smell.

We're supposed to be the fragrance of Christ in the world, both to believers and those who are still searching, and ultimately as an offering to God himself (see 2 Corinthians 2:14-16).  But if we walk without really caring too much or taking time to address the sin stuck in the treads of our lives, even the little/private/thought-life/insert excuse here stuff, I guarantee our aroma will be a much different one. 

Even if most of the rest of us is clean, it doesn't take much to change a fragrance.  I can pray and worship God and witness all I want, but if I'm self-centered the rest of the time then what do I smell like?  I'll leave you to fill in that blank.  By the way, another sidebar I don't want to get into now: this same principle may well be why the church is often not respected by our culture.  We can do all kinds of good things, but it doesn't take many people like those idiots who protest at funerals and such to change the aroma of all of us...just a thought.

Back to my other idea, though.  The verse that God initially brought to my mind through all of this was a different one from 2 Corinthians-- the part where it talks about their reaction to the correction Paul had brought them in his other letter (7:8-11):

"Even if I caused you sorrow by my letter, I do not regret it. Though I did regret it--I see that my letter hurt you, but only for a little while--yet now I am happy, not because you were made sorry, but because your sorrow led you to repentance.  For you became sorrowful as God intended and so were not harmed in any way by us.  Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death.  See what this godly sorrow has produced in you: what earnestness, what eagerness to clear yourselves, what indignation, what alarm, what longing, what concern, what readiness to see justice done. At every point you have proved yourselves to be innocent in this matter."

See, we don't need to dwell painfully on our sin forever, but to bring it to God.  God's conviction brings earnestness, eagerness to clear ourselves, indignation, alarm, longing, concern, and readiness for justice-- all of which are exactly what I felt when I stepped in that crap, by the way.  I was diligent, eager to clean it off, angry, alarmed, concerned, and ready to see justice done to the perpetrator!  (I believe I prayed something to the effect that the owner of that dog would have to watch it get run over, actually.  I'm not saying this was part of the godly sorrow, just that it seemed like justice at the time. It probably isn't.)

The bigger question, though, is why my stepping into sin doesn't have this same effect on me.  Why do I seem so unconcerned about the uncleanness and the aroma?  Why don't I have that same earnestness to be clean? I have one idea-- come back with me to my story for a moment.

The reason I was at the apartment in the first place on this day before moving in was to meet the gas man and let him in so he could turn the gas on.  He was (not surprisingly) late, but it turned out to be good because I had just finished my lengthy cleaning process and gotten all the stuff up into my place.  He arrived just as I was coming down to my car with a couple bags I was going to fill with more stuff to move on a future trip.  "Go on in," I said, "it's open... I just have to drop these in my car real quick."  So I was hurrying back to my car, only thinking about getting back into the house to show him where to go.  You see where this is heading?

Yup.  I stepped in it again.  The exact same place.  It wasn't quite as bad this time, but only because it was already completely flat from the first time.  What I said at this point I will not even paraphrase.  My point is, though, that I felt a lot less desire to clean it off right away, having just gone through that whole process.

I think it gets harder to deal with our sin seriously because we keep coming back to it.  We step in it again, sometimes within hours or minutes of getting clean, and we'd just rather hide it than go through the painstaking process of actually cleaning it out and the additional shame of not being able to avoid the exact same mistake we already made.  The ancient philosopher Heraclitus famously said "You could not step twice into the same river," the idea being that the water flows on and is different when you come back.  But you can step into the same crap as many times as you choose to, or as many times as you forget where it is or don't pay attention.

That's why it's so important to have godly sorrow, the kind that brings earnestness and repentance and leaves no regret.  Each time we come before God with our sin is no different than the first time.  His love for us is the same, no matter how many times we fall, and only He can clean us to the point where we convey the aroma of Christ and give us awareness of how to stay out of the crap next time.

So anyway, I did clean off my shoes again, and it was while doing so that I felt like God told me that second part.  The instrument He used to reveal all this to me was perhaps the most unglamorous one possible, and then just in case I forgot he used that same piece of s**t (couldn't resist any longer) again.  He is always speaking.  Will I listen?  He has much better things for me to step into. :)

Saying no...

I suppose I probably should have seen this coming.

What, you may ask? Well, of course ever since I posted about saying yes to God, I've been much more conscious of all the ways I say no to him.  I'm actually realizing, much to my chagrin, that between outright saying no and just not listening at all, I don't really say yes to God nearly as much as my previous post might have made it seem like.  I mean, I even boiled the whole process of life down to a few simple steps in that post... and then I found out I'm bad at doing them.

I guess this is just my personal disclaimer then.  I didn't ever mean to suggest that I have life under control, but it turns out that's kind of what I was actually thinking after all.  If that sounds prideful... it is.  Nice thing is, if you just get something like that out in the open, then God can do something with it.  What he likes to do is humbling and often painful, but that's really what progress looks like, I think.

So, I was thinking that I should amend my five-step plan to include a part where we confess and ask for repentance for all the ways we say no.  Then I was thinking, not many of us are actually bold enough to say no outright to God (although I have done that, and I don't recommend it).  Mostly we just don't ask/listen/pay attention to him.  For those of us who know that he actually speaks, this is a little bit like a kid plugging his ears and yelling lalalalala to not hear what his parents are saying.  He can try the excuse that he didn't hear, but that doesn't usually get far (note that this is a purely hypothetical kid of course, not based on personal experience at all).

The only difference between us and that kid is we've developed more sophisticated ways of plugging our ears and yelling, so to speak.  Last time I mentioned YouTube and its noise-making, distracting brethren on the web and tv.  Sometimes it can even be healthy things, like working hard, or even personal relationships.  Mostly, however we do it, we say no to God by trying to avoid the silence (physical and spiritual) in which we know he speaks.

What I'm finding is that no matter how well I think I'm doing with this stuff, I'm still much more of a mixed bag of good and bad than I wish I was.  I suspect the same is true for you, if you're honest.  Even in this, though, we have hope:

Our hope is that God pursues us.

Even when we are running away (or toward any other thing, which is the same), he comes after us.  He doesn't mind the whole mixed bag thing so much; it's really his only option for people to work with.  Check out the story of Elijah in 1 Kings 19, for example!  Elijah just had pretty much the most amazing mountaintop experience (literally) possible in the chapter before, and in chapter 19 he freaks out and runs away.  He also asks God to kill him rather than making him keep working!  Keep in mind this is the same guy that was eventually found worthy to skip the whole death thing and get carried into heaven on a chariot made of fire as well.  Was he perfect? No. But God pursued him... and he spoke to him in the silence (1 Kings 19:12).  I know the NIV says gentle whisper, but the literal translation is "thin silence."  That phrase inspired a poem for me that reflects my desire to listen and respond to the Lord, and I'll finish with that:

Elijah's Prayer


let me be found
in the thin silence

listening

let my voice
surrender and stay

quietly

for you

let my heart
be wholly at home

to whisper

resting on you
let me be lost

Amen

Saying Yes

Have you ever had something you've said or written come back to get in your way when you want to do or say something else? That happened to me this week, but it was actually a really good thing.  I'll explain.

You see, over the years, I have located a lot of amusing, random and even positively worthwhile (although representatives of this last category are much fewer and further between) content on the monstrous website we all know as Youtube.  Every now and again, I'll go to make a joke or a reference to one of these videos I like, but then no one has ever seen it and my joke just falls flat.  Or even worse, I'm laughing and no one else is--they're just standing there awkwardly, perhaps offering a slight polite chuckle, trying to affirm that my sense of humor is valid while knowing that they never plan to watch the video in question (or if they do plan to, that they'll never remember what it is when they go to look for it).

My solution to this problem?  If you're thinking "stop making jokes based on obscure time-wasting internet videos?" I have to commend your logic, but perhaps you don't know me very well.  No, I had a much more comprehensive solution in mind: Compile a list of every crazy Youtube video that I might possibly want to reference or joke about, then post it on my blog so that all my friends at least everyone who reads that will understand and be able to laugh when I want to talk/post about these things.  Because all of you would instantly devote your next several hours to watching all of them as soon as I did that, right?

Yeah, it sounds kind of dumb when I write it all out like that--which brings me to my point, really.  One of the benefits of writing things down is that it helps you clarify what's important and worthwhile.  Another benefit is that if you write down the good things you learn, they can help convict you and get you back on track later when you're about to do or say or post something stupid.

In my case, I had just written at length about how we're going to die and we don't know when, so we might as well use our time for things that actually matter.  I was seriously about to directly follow that post (see below) with a giant list of Youtube videos.  Just think about that for a second.  To use the internet term, *facepalm*.

As some of you may know, I have just a bit of an addictive personality.  It's a strange combination of being very easy to amuse, difficult to distract, and able to tune the whole world out and focus on one thing.  I tell people I can't have ADD-- no way I have a deficit of attention, I have a surplus.  It may be a disorder though... anyway, suffice it to say that almost anything can get my attention and hold it for longer than most people would imagine, sometimes even at the expense of eating, sleeping, conversing or other necessary life functions.

So imagine what Youtube does to me.
I can't even begin to tell you how much of my life has been flushed down that drain.  I'm really not sure why I would want anyone else to experience that.  Certainly me seeming funnier is not a good enough reason.

And really, mindless waste of time is one of the best sides of Youtube.  There's a whole underworld of darkness and inappropriate content on it as well that they don't advertise, but they know it drives a huge portion of their traffic.  You just have to look at what kinds of videos have the most views.

Anyway, I didn't really write this to bash a website.  I know Youtube can be used for good things too, like learning how to do things.  My church's worship team uses it to help teach people new songs because pretty much every song in the world is posted on it somewhere (most illegally of course, but that's a topic for a different blog).  As with almost all our greatest human inventions, though, our greatest blessings become our greatest curses too.  After all, pretty much any problem or benefit you can point out with Youtube also applies to the Internet at large.  Clearly, the issue here is not Youtube.

The issue is me.

More specifically, will I say yes to God's will even when it means laying down my plans or frivolous enjoyments?  (both of which are perfectly illustrated by my Youtube list/plan)  Underneath that, one level further down, will I trust that God's plan for my life will be the best, most fulfilling one in the end?

By not posting my list, I'm saying I will.

It's interesting too that as I am willing to submit myself in this way, God is giving me new ways to deny my own will and live for his, some little and some larger.  For example on this blog, I took down my poem of the day gadget even though I love poems because some of its content was questionable/depressing. I also took down my movie list because... it reminded me way too much of the Youtube list.  I'm not going to lie, some of this can get a little frustrating!  Sometimes I can get all like, "really? you're not letting me have this?  Now my blog sidebar won't be nearly long enough to line up with my posts!" or some other such ridiculous thing.  My order and my plans get challenged by his order and his plans (by the way, when I say not letting me, I refer not to a physical prohibition but to the way my peace of mind and spirit start to evaporate when I consider doing said thing).  Even if it's a bigger thing (like fasting, for example, which seems huge to me at least) the peace that comes from listening to that still small voice is worth whatever I have to give up.

One step further: I believe it's the only way for me to grow into the things I need to become in this season of my life (and live in the way I suggested in my last blog).  I don't have to figure myself or my life out!  I'm thankful for that-- I don't know which one of the two would be harder to decipher.  What I do have to do is trust enough to slow down, listen to a God who desires to speak, and then say yes.

Not maybe, not later, not yesbut, just yes.  After saying yes, then I just have to do the yes.  It's no good to be the son who pays lip service but doesn't do anything!  Better to be one who says no but then does the yes, actually (see Matthew 21:28-31).  I can plan my course, but I want to let God determine my steps (see Proverbs 16:9).  It's very simple, but that doesn't mean it's easy.  It actually takes God's strength to say yes to God, which is a whole other level of confusing that I don't have time to go into right now because I've been focused on writing this blog at the expense of eating, as I mentioned that I tend to do.  I only bring it up to say that it requires we depend on him, not on ourselves.

Trust. Listen. Say Yes. Do Yes. Repeat.

The rest is up to him.

Humanism vs. Glory

I recently heard an excellent message from a preacher to whom I would love to give credit for it, except I don't know his name.  Anyway, I wanted to share the general gist of it in the hopes that it can spur others on to have some of the same thoughts and questions it sparked in me.  (By way of at least some credit being given, I heard this message as part of a video compilation called the revival hymn which you can google and I encourage you to watch if you're feeling ready to be pummeled with convicting truth and challenging ideas for about 40 minutes.  This thing rocked my world.)

Basically, this preacher started by describing how humanism has become the predominant worldview of our time.  A quick and dirty definition of humanism: a philosophy that states that the ultimate goal of life/existence is the happiness of humankind.  A lot of people (including Christians... we'll get to that in a moment) live like this is the case.  Even if they don't think their position out philosophically all the way to full-on humanism, many at least arrive at its cousin, hedonism (or simple pleasure-seeking) as the driving principle of their lives.

All this is simply a natural part of humanity's ongoing attempt to flee from God as the source of meaning or reason in life.  However, the problem as it relates to the church, to those of us who try to shine a light into the darkness, comes when this humanist influence starts seeping into Christianity.  Biblical Christianity teaches that the purpose for our existence is to bring glory to God.  The process by which we abandon God's glory and start living for happiness (either for all: humanism, or just for us: hedonism) is certainly a subtle one, and I don't really feel qualified to explain how it happens.  I see in my own life that it does, though.  Let me just share some questions that have been kicking around in my heart to hopefully shed light on what I mean.

Do I ask God for forgiveness because I want to feel better about myself or because I am really sorry for attempting to steal his glory through whatever prideful sin I indulge in?

Do I want God's guidance in my life because I want to feel safe, or because it will result in me taking part in his perfect plan to maximize his own praise?

Do we "do evangelism" as a means to fix the problems of the world and its broken inhabitants or because the Lamb of God shed his holy blood for these people and deserves to see them claimed by his love?

Do I even believe that God is justified in caring much more about his glory than our temporal well-being?

How would my life be different if I lived for God's glory instead of my own happiness?


See where I'm going with all this? The problem of humanism seems to be everywhere I look... all these ways that I've subjugated true Christianity to my own quest for ________ (fill in the blank: completion, happiness, fulfillment, simplicity etc.).  The problem is not that God doesn't want to give me those things!  It's just that pursuing them instead of God himself is like taking a medication because you want the side-effects, not the cure.  We can get so distracted that we completely lose sight of the fact that we've been set free from the sin and bondage that was killing us.

And what is freedom, anyway?  Not the ability to do whatever we want... but the ability to walk in the healing light of God's glory. The light we shine into the dark can't be our own, and it can't even be the elusive glow of happiness, whatever that is. 

The only light that can really illuminate the dark streets of our city and our world is the light of the glory of God revealed in Christ.

We need to be preaching God as the all-consuming righteous lover of our souls, the glorious Lord of all things who rightfully deserves their obedience, NOT the means to happiness, not something to add to the lives we already have to make them better.

But first, before we start preaching it... we need to start living like it's true.

I've often heard it said that people are looking for something bigger than themselves to belong to that will give them meaning.  Personal happiness is too self-centered-- I think many would willingly lay down most of life's comforts to really feel that they had meaning.  No wonder people don't buy what the church is selling: if it's all about happiness it just isn't that different from all the other scams they've already gotten burned on.  Only the overwhelming glory of God is enough bigger than us to be worthwhile.

How do we live for THAT?  And how do we share it with others in such a way that they want it too?  Although I have so far to go to really live this way, I long to pursue these things and see the church reflect them.  How can we start living for God's glory in fuller measure?

Maybe if we loved unselfishly... not for what we could get out of it.

Maybe if we worshipped God... not music or a song or the show.

Maybe if we truly gave up our lives to God... instead of trying to fit him into our plans.

Maybe if we prayed God would save us from the ways we don't honor him... instead of the ways we aren't happy.

Maybe if we stopped chasing happiness long enough to truly be still in the presence of God.

"Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations; I will be exalted in the earth." (Psalm 46:10)

God's glory WILL win in the end.  I'd just like to be part of making that happen instead of getting myself in the way.

Devotion

There's an old saying that goes, "Don't put all your eggs in the same basket."  This is commonly regarded as wisdom, since obviously if you drop the one basket carrying all your eggs, you then have zero eggs, which would be the worst possible outcome.

I'm not sure it works that way in God's kingdom, though.  Check this out:

"Until I come, devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture, to preaching and to teaching.  Do not neglect your gift, which was given you through a prophetic message when the body of elders laid their hands on you.  Be diligent in these matters; give yourself wholly to them, so that everyone may see your progress."

--Paul, in 1 Timothy 4:13-15

Paul is asking Timothy to put all his eggs in one basket.  Devote yourself, be diligent, give yourself wholly.  These are all or nothing phrases.

I think we shy away from approaching life like this for a couple of reasons.  For one thing, devoting yourself to anything (which implies complete focus and being set apart for a task--similar to holiness, actually) is hard work by definition.  It is all consuming, and a lot of us have trouble committing to things like that.  So, laziness gets in our way.

Even deeper than that, though, I feel like we avoid this devoted lifestyle because of fear.  We are somehow afraid that it won't turn out to be that great and we'll be left with nothing else after the eggs drop.  We really don't think God's plan is the best, so we follow halfway just in case it is the best, while also making our own plans and holding onto those.  It doesn't seem to work, but that doesn't usually stop us.  Maybe that's why Jesus said we have to lose our lives to save them.

Then another thing we fear is the reaction of others.  Paul comes right out and tells Timothy that everyone will see his progress: little or much, good or bad, it will be right out there.  Streetlights are right out in the open, not hidden.  If we devote our lives to following the Lord, people will be able to tell, and our successes and failures will be much more visible if we're willing to be real.  I think that's why we paradoxically try to save face by not trying as hard as we can.  That way if what we're doing fails, we always have the out that "we weren't really trying our very hardest."  Who knows what would have happened if we were?

So that's where I find myself today.  I know that I want to devote myself to following God, reading the word, and using my spiritual gifts.  I want to be diligent.  I want to devote myself wholly to this.  I am also afraid.  But, I know the times when I am most devoted to God are the times I am most free.  The same decision presents itself every day, every hour, every moment.  All I know is, regardless of my past choices, my current fears, or old sayings, right now I choose devotion.

Returning

I think I've been living life in the wrong metaphor.

What I mean by that is, I think that my fundamental picture of how life works has been slightly off.  It's always popular, even to the point of being slightly cliché, to think of life as a journey.  Countless books, poems, songs, etc. have been written from this perspective, even though the ones written apart from God often fail to offer much hope as to the journey's destination.  As Christians, though, we especially love this metaphor because the Bible promises the ultimate destination, heaven.

Now, I'm not trying to say there's anything wrong with the idea of a journey.  It's hard to argue with the popular success and powerful impact of a book like Pilgrim's Progress, for example, and the story of Christian's journey to the Celestial City has actually been a big inspiration to me over the years.  It's just that the allegory in that story, like all metaphors, is limited in scope.  Obviously, no metaphor can ever fully become the exact thing it represents, or else it would be superfluous (which by the way, is one of my favorite words and one I've been dying to work into one of my blogs somehow).  That's why it's important to recognize where comparisons fall short and see just how far they can stretch before they break.

Here's how the Pilgrim's Progress-style journey metaphor got my thinking a little off: basically, I started thinking about life as a voyage towards God, who waits for us at a fixed destination as we slowly and circuitously (another one of my favorites) make our way closer and closer to him.  Catch the subtle twist introduced in that viewpoint?  It makes God the destination instead of heaven.  It's an easy jump to make, especially in light of the fact that heaven is where our fellowship with the Lord will be complete and full.  The thing is, he's not just sitting around up there waiting for us.  If God was a destination, he would of course be the best one to aim for.  But he's not.  He's everywhere.  In fact, our only hope of making it to our destination of glory in heaven is that God is in us (Colossians 1:27).

Now, the hope of heaven is a huge deal, and it has helped me through a lot of struggles in this life to know that one day all those struggles will be permanently erased by joy.  If we make the mistake of confining God to heaven, though, we can miss out on the fact that he travels with us.

We are not alone on our journey.

This is immensely important, not least of all because the idea of trying to get closer to a God we can't reach until heaven is a bit of a depressing prospect.  It's also important because it gives us a much more accurate picture of what life is actually like.

I'm coming to think of life more and more as a constant returning.  Instead of thinking of a one-way voyage toward heaven, I'm thinking more of a continuous coming back to God, wherever he is.  That way, my actions are relieved of the pressure of moving me closer to or further from heaven.  Really, if I've truly accepted Jesus, my salvation is secure and I'm moving toward heaven at the same rate as all other Christians: 60 seconds per minute.  I have no control over that; when I reach the end of the time God has written in my book, I'll just be there!  However, I don't have to wait to be with God until then.  Eternal life begins now, because eternal life simply means to know God (John 17:3), and he is actually walking with me.

God is not distant.  He is near me, and at times I walk right by his side.  Other times, I get distracted and let things pull me away.  Because this is a fallen world, there are a lot of opportunities for distraction.  The question, though, is not so much of moving forward or backward, of climbing up or falling back down, of progress or regress, but of whether the things of life will draw me towards God or away from him as he walks with me.

Will I return to God if a situation draws me away from him?  Will I re-turn my face toward his if something distracts my attention elsewhere?  The command to return to the Lord is echoed over and over again throughout the Old Testament by all kinds of prophets in all different situations, from captivity to prosperity.  In fact, every single thing that happens in life (like jobs, relationships, emotions, our own sins, or God's gifts to us, just to name a few) offers the choice to turn toward God or away from him, but he is always with us.  He is in control of the destination and how we get there.  The part he gives us a say in is how much like him we'll become along the way.

We become like whatever we look at.  To become like God, we need to turn towards him.  And because this life is so distracting and so many things draw our attention away, we need to re-turn towards him.  Often.  Always.  We have to fix our gaze on him, and then when we look away, look back.  Constant returning.  God's grace to us is that no matter how many times we need to return, he will still be there.

I was worshipping God at c-hop recently, and we ended up singing that Jesus is our soul's refrain, the part of the song we keep coming back to.  That's a whole different metaphor that I don't have time to address right now, but I think the journey works fine if we understand it correctly in the sense of always returning to a God who walks with us.  To finish, though, here's part of another song (Psalm 73: 23-26) that pretty much sums up what I mean by all of this:

"Yet I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand.  You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory.  Whom have I in heaven but you?  And earth has nothing I desire besides you.  My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever."

The Law and the Spirit

One of the great things I'm finding about reading the Bible is that it helps me deal with the craziness inherent in life. What I'm saying is, if we really walked in the true implications of its teachings, I think our lives would make a lot more sense. For example, I read this verse the other day that blew me right out of the water. I mean, I knew it was in there, but I had never really thought about it before or what it would really mean if I lived like it was true.

Side note: isn't it easy when you're reading to take in words and yet no meaning whatsoever? We have to stop doing this with the Bible. When we're young, too many of us get trained to read the Word in whole chapters, like a textbook. I say read as small a chunk as necessary so that you really wrestle with the meaning of what you read. Only after you do that will reading whole chapters make any sense! Ok... that's the end of my tangent, but unfortunately it really broke up the flow of where I was going. Here's what you should do: go back to the top and read that first paragraph again, but this time skip this whole tangential paragraph and move on to the next one when you get done.

Anyway, here's the verse: "God made you alive with Christ. He forgave us all our sins, having cancelled the written code, with its regulations, that was against us and that stood opposed to us; he took it away, nailing it to the cross" (Colossians 2:13-14). Do you hear how radical that is? The law, that written code we could never succeed in keeping and therefore opposed us, is cancelled! Ended. Voided. Xed (bonus points if you get that reference). Nullified. Removed. And I could keep going like a thesaurus, but I don't need to because just in case any of those words aren't strong enough for you, the verse says the law is also nailed to the cross of Christ!

It's not just this one verse either. Now that I've spent some time thinking about it and searching further, this idea of the cancelled law is found throughout the New Testament. The story certainly doesn't end there, though. Let me connect some more dots in this constellation before I try to make a point from it.

So, according to this crazy verse, the law is crucified on Jesus' cross. That got me thinking, what else died on that cross? Short answer: I did. "I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me" (Galatians 2:20). It kind of puts a damper on the joy that the law is dead to find out that I'm dead too. Thankfully, the story doesn't end there either.

I may be dead, but that verse does seem to give me some hope of life through Christ because Jesus didn't stay dead but rose again. The apostle Paul (who wrote all these books I'm quoting, by the way) agrees elsewhere in his writings: "Now if we died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him... The death he died, he died to sin once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God. In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus" (Romans 6:8,10-11). So what really died?

Sin in me died, so that Christ could take its place. The NIV really mistranslates this concept as the "sinful nature" dying, but a better term is "the flesh," the part of me that is not my spirit. So really, it's just a flesh wound! (I've had worse... No you haven't! Your arm's off! ...Ahem... many apologies to anyone who hasn't seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail). Anyway, this idea of the crucified flesh is what's important here. Paul says later on that "if you live according to the sinful nature [flesh], you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the misdeeds of the body, you will live, because those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God" (Romans 8:13-14). The idea of us being dead, then, is so that we will be led by the Spirit.

The verse that brings this whole thing full circle is Galatians 5:18-- "If you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the law"!! I know the actual verse ends with a period, but I couldn't resist adding some exclamation marks (notice how they're outside the quotation marks). I just can't believe how Paul makes this unbelievably radical statement so matter-of-factly. Of course the written code is cancelled! How could it not be? It's like he's saying we should already know this stuff!

And really, we should. Maybe we even do, but how many of us live like it? I think the church in general and most of us individually are pretty stuck on the law. We are very concerned with our outward appearances and doing the right things, but where is the concern for the spirit? Is there even a point to changing people's outward morality if the heart underneath remains unchanged, not under God's control?

I don't really know, and I'm not trying to suggest that sin is unimportant in light of the law being cancelled. People made that mistake in Paul's day, and they were badly missing his point. "What then? Shall we sin because we are not under law but under grace? By no means! Don't you know that when you offer yourselves to someone to obey him as slaves, you are slaves to the one whom you obey-- whether you are slaves to sin, which leads to death, or to obedience, which leads to righteousness?" (Romans 6:15-16). The gravity and importance of sin is not just that some law says not to do it. It is serious because it enslaves us and eventually destroys us.

We are meant, though, to be slaves to righteousness. This is tough language, and I think this has a lot to do with why many Christians balk at the idea of the law being completely cancelled. We are faced with this unsettling dichotomy in Galatians 5:18. Either we are led by the Spirit, or we are under the law. There is no in-between space.

Here's where it gets tricky. Think about the difference between the law and the Spirit for a minute. The law is made of rules that apply to certain situations. If someone makes me mad, I shouldn't kill that person. Ok, got it. I'm extremely attracted to this person, but I didn't sleep with them. Check. Success, as far as the law goes. Apart from these few rules, I am free to do as I please. But being led by the Spirit is much different. He wants to lead us in ALL situations! Do whatever you do in the name of the Lord, remember? 100%. Being led by the Spirit means constantly seeking his direction and submitting to his leading in everything, even the things we would much rather control ourselves.

That, my friends, is hard. There's no getting around it. I'm terrible at it, and I assume you are too. I'm getting better I think (hope), but I still want to keep some areas of my life for myself. That's why we tend to go back to the law. We are not bound by it, but we bind ourselves to it because it seems easier. If we have a rule we can follow for difficult situations, we feel like we will be able to follow it and save ourselves. We want to earn salvation instead of just being saved. We feel like we will be able to keep the rules well enough to meet the standard. It's not true, of course, but it's what we believe. The rules seem easier than laying our lives completely at the feet of God, listening to his voice and letting him direct us in all situations.

Maybe we just misunderstand holiness. I was at my church's men's retreat recently, and we talked a lot about sexual purity. The speaker offered a lot of insight into how to live a pure life, but in my mind the single most important thing he said was that holiness is active, directional. It IS action! It's about what we do, not all the things we don't do. And how in the world do we expect to know what to do unless we let ourselves be led by the Spirit? The rules just don't provide enough guidance.

It's kind of like walking blindfold between two electrified wires. You could do your best to walk straight and wait until you get zapped to change course. That's life under the law, the wires being the rules and associated judgments. Or, you could let someone who knows how to see lead your every step, trusting that he knows the best path and won't let you stray into pain. That's what the Spirit does for us. "Now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves to God, the benefit you reap leads to holiness, and the result is eternal life" (Romans 6:22).

It's directional. It's all-encompassing. It's eternal life. It seems a little crazy in our human understanding, but it's so good. That's God for you :)

Whatever you do...

"And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him." -- Colossians 3:17

This verse has been rocking my world this week. It's so simple, yet so powerful. Simple, in this case, I mean as the opposite of complex, not of difficult. In fact, I think this simple instruction from Paul is something that almost nobody is really good at.

The problem is, we're far too quick to view these kinds of statements in Scripture as suggestions. But this is a command. It's not just an idea for a way to receive blessing and have a better life (although it is that too), it's a sovereign directive from God himself. Obviously, it's a good plan to pay attention to those. So how do we do this thing that God is commanding? Let's take it piece by piece.

First, we have this crucial qualifier, "whatever you do." This is a huge deal, because this phrase makes the coming instruction all-encompassing. Whatever is about to be said, it applies to every single situation and action in our lives, so it should always be on our mind as we make our decisions. These kinds of over-arching statements in Scripture are fairly rare, and they always indicate things that are of great importance. In fact, I can only think of four others in the whole Bible right now (but if you know of any more, please let me know!). One is in Proverbs 4:23: "Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life." Also, there are the three "one thing" verses, which I'm pretty sure I've previously mentioned on this blog. They are in Psalm 27:4, Luke 10:42, and Philippians 3:13-14. If you don't know them, you should really look them up right now. Also, I can't think of any better place to start memorizing Scripture than these verses.

Next, we have Paul refusing to leave any loopholes in his command. Words and deeds are both included. I know the old saying "actions speak louder than words" has some merit to it, because a lot of times people remember what you do more than what you say. But, trying to make the two things separate is a deceptively false dichotomy. It's not like what you say is unimportant as long as you do the right thing. Words are actions! They are things you choose, and God expects them, like everything else, to be included in his dominion. To reinforce this beyond all doubt, the next words are "do it all." Everything. Pretty self-explanatory, I think.

Now we come to the payoff. We are to do whatever we do "in the name of the Lord Jesus." This part is really the reason I'm getting rocked by this verse. What does it mean to do something (or, as we are instructed, everything) in Jesus' name? Here's my take on it. If you think about it, every action or word gives glory to something. If I brag about my accomplishments, I give glory to myself. Another way to word that would be that I say those boastful things in my own name. If I idolize a celebrity, I give glory to them. I try to be like them, and make decisions essentially in their name. See where I'm going here? Essentially, we are always worshipping something because that's what bringing glory means. If you disagree, try to think of an action that brings no glory to anyone or anything. I couldn't do it.

That's why I'm thinking that doing something in Jesus' name means doing it for his glory. AND, as I just stated, everything brings glory to someone or something. SO, if we aren't bringing glory to Jesus with what we do, we must be bringing glory to someone or something else. There is no middle ground, no neutral gear here. That actually reminds me of another big over-arching statement of the Bible that I forgot earlier. In Matthew 12:30, Jesus says "He who is not with me is against me, and he who does not gather with me scatters." That's what makes this command from Colossians so stunning. There is no moral neutrality. Either words or actions bring glory to God, or they bring glory to something else, and if it's something else then that is against God. Being against God, as you may know, is not a good place to be.

Then to reinforce this point, Paul finishes with the clarification that the things we do should all be out of thanksgiving (see that worship/glory idea again?) to God. This helps us have a better visual picture of what Paul means. It's a good question to ask ourselves as we consider doing something: "can I do this while giving thanks to God?" If the answer is no, we shouldn't do it. End of story.

Here's where this thing gets really sticky for us. As Christians, we want to please God, but we also have our flesh that just wants to please itself. We know it's a bad idea to offend God, so our favorite phrase becomes, "well, it's not wrong..." etc. I'm not going to pull any punches here: that whole idea is a lie from the enemy. If something isn't specifically for God, it's against him. If it doesn't gather glory to God, it scatters that glory elsewhere, and that IS wrong!

Another favorite strategy of ours in justifying our actions is comparison. This one works two different ways. One way is that we have something we want to do, so we look at someone we respect who is doing that: If they're doing it, it must not be wrong! They're a great person! The other way is that we look at someone who is doing something much worse: I'm not doing something that bad, so I should be fine. Both of these approaches have the same problem. The verse doesn't say 'whatever everyone else does,' it says "whatever YOU do"! The decision to glorify God with your life, your words and actions, is up to you individually and no one else. Others might decide differently from us what they think glorifies God, but it shouldn't have any impact on our own decisions. On the flipside of that, we shouldn't judge them either. We should just do what we believe God says is right, no matter what.

So what should we do in light of this all-inclusive command? I can't really tell you what to do because God has to stir it in your heart. As I just mentioned, you shouldn't do anything just because I'm doing it or anyone else is. You need to glorify God in whatever way he shows you. But I'll tell you what I'm doing: I'm looking carefully at my life, thinking and praying about all the things I have and do. If it doesn't glorify Jesus and can't be used to give thanks to God, I'm getting rid of it. When I say getting rid of it, I mean exactly that. In the next week or so, I expect the amount of possessions I have and things I spend my time on to noticeably decrease. I also expect, though, that I won't really miss them if I pursue Jesus instead.

I know that all sounds pretty radical. Jesus was pretty radical too. While we're being radical then, let's just call things what they are. Anything that brings glory to something or someone other than Jesus is an idol. Not just a personal choice, a waste of time, or a harmless little addiction but an idol. And I'm not talking like American Idol, I'm talking like a false god (although I often feel like the two are pretty much synonymous). It's what the first of the Ten Commandments is talking about not having. I just feel like so many of us have the cords of materialism, this world of things we worship, wrapped around us like seaweed dragging us down. What's worse, we don't even know it a lot of the time. I know I didn't. It might be because Christians don't like to use the word idol, which I'm convinced is mostly because it draws attention to their breaking of the first commandment! I know now that I've been breaking this commandment and ignoring it for years. Speaking of people who had seaweed wrapped around them, Jonah said, "those who cling to worthless idols forfeit the grace that could be theirs" (Jonah 2:8). I don't want to miss out on any more blessings because of stupid things I bow down to! I want to guard my heart and see my life be blessed because of it.

Now, will I get all this right, and keep that command perfectly? I highly doubt it. But I will try. I have to. I'm realizing more and more that if following Jesus isn't a 100% thing, I don't even want to do it. I'm tired of wasting my life. God is calling us to radical holiness, something completely outside what this world's system can offer, something for which there is no model other than Jesus. Holiness. Worshipping one God, being set apart for one purpose only. "Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus" (Philippians 3:13-14, ESV).

Want to come with me?

Entertainment vs. Glory

As it turns out, my thoughts on video games (see previous entry) were only the tip of a much larger iceberg. The larger category, I'm coming to see, is the idea of entertainment in general. We have so many ways as a society to distract our minds and keep ourselves from having to think meaningful thoughts. It seems like we are endlessly trying to amuse ourselves. We run from silence like the plague and constantly need more and more activities to fill up our "leisure time."

Why?

Before I get there, let me take a step back and talk about my personal journey a bit. Up until last week, for the past year or so I'd been feeling this nameless frustration in my spirit. The best way I can think of to describe it is that my soul, if you could hear it, would sound like a car trying to start but failing. Some real churning was going on, but it seemed that no progress was being made, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out why this was happening. It was like a fire was burning inside me, but it was only getting barely enough oxygen to keep burning. Ever felt like that?

Anyway, I tried to pray about it a little, but I didn't feel like I was getting anywhere. So, probably because a lot of aspects of my life were still going well, I basically just tried to put it out of my mind. That's where video games come in, because they have been my trademark method of putting things out of my mind for pretty much my whole life. In essence I just closed my ears and eyes and ran to entertainment, which had always been enough to distract me in the past.

This time, though, it wasn't working. I couldn't distract myself with schoolwork, with sports, or with entertainment. The more I tried, the more I was left thinking that my life didn't really make sense. Everything kind of came to a boiling point once I graduated from college this spring. Suddenly I had all this free time and no idea what to fill it with. What I ended up filling it with was pretty much nothing, at least nothing of real value.

Finally, the Lord just blew through all of my crap and spoke to me. I was at a baseball game in Chicago with my parents, and God drew my attention to a few middle-aged guys who were sitting around us. Each of them had downed like six beers (at $6.50 a pop, I might add) and they were sitting there in a semi-incoherent state, alternating between watching the game and watching two fairly inappropriately dressed women sitting near them. God just said, "Is that who you want to be?"

The next day, we got home from Chicago in time for me to go to the Saturday night service at the Cleveland House of Prayer (also known as C-hop. If you've never been there, you really should check it out: http://www.clevelandhop.org/ ). Anyway, the message and worship were all about seeing the beauty and glory of the Lord, how God is surpassingly great, the best thing we could chase after. It was all stuff I thought I had heard before, but this time God really made me hear it and revealed himself to me in a new way. He challenged a lot of how I had been spending my time, and he showed me a much better plan.

See, here's why my life wasn't making any sense: I had been saying that God was awesome and glorious and great, but I was spending my time on so much other stuff. I said the right things, but my life showed that I was looking for glory in the wrong places. That night, though, God showed me a glimpse of His glory. To be honest, it made all the things I had entertained myself with look really pathetic in comparison. I felt like so much of my life had been a total waste. I understood in a much deeper way this thing the apostle Paul said: "Whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him..." (Philippians 3:7-9).

Knowing Jesus was the one thing that held any satisfaction whatsoever for Paul. The rest, he was ready to toss out the window. It's kind of like how Mary sat at Jesus feet and Jesus said that was the "one thing" that was needed. It's a lot like how David said, "One thing I ask of the Lord, this is what I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple" (Psalm 27:4). In fact, it's exactly like that.

So, back to the question of entertainment and distraction. The question, as you may remember, was "why?" The answer, as far as I can tell from these verses, is that we haven't seen enough of the glory of the Lord. What did David want? To see, to gaze at, the glory of God! As he did that, it became the only thing he had any desire for. As a friend of mine said to me recently, God is God and we're just creatures, so life is obviously about him, not us. So basically, if we still have this insatiable desire for our own entertainment, it just means we haven't seen enough of God's glory yet.

Why entertainment? Because we haven't had a revelation of the glory of God.

The thing is, we can't make it happen. A revelation has to be revealed. God has to show us his glory, and we can't force him to. But, he does promise this: "You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart" (Jeremiah 29:13). If we make him our "one thing," he promises that we will see his glory in a way that makes everything else pale in comparison.

It's not a one time deal either: God revealed himself to me through the teaching and worship that night at C-hop, but even though it was a turning point for me, that one night won't be enough to keep me going for the rest of my life. I need "to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord," to stare at it, burn it into my eyes, and just overall to keep on looking at it. That's what will make my life make sense and keep me going, not entertainment or any other pursuit except Jesus and knowing him more. And for that to happen, I need God to reveal it to me. I sure didn't find him, because I was looking in the wrong places. He found me. That's why He is the one thing I ask for, that I would meet him where his glory dwells.

Will you ask God to reveal his all-surpassing glory to you? If he does (and he will), you'll never ask for anything else.

Video Games

Recently, I've been reflecting a lot on the course of my life so far, i.e. the things I've done and the reasons for them. It's an interesting process, as well as a good checkup to see if you're growing or not, and I highly recommend it. Anyway, one of the the things I've come to see is that I have really spent an inordinate amount of my life so far playing video games. Anything from Minesweeper to Super Smash Brothers, you name it and I've probably been hooked on it. I suppose I could call myself a recovering addict.

It all got me thinking though: why do these games have such a powerful pull on some of us? What draws us so far into them that it's hard to see the way out? In my pondering these questions, I've come up with three reasons I think that people often run to video games, all of which lead me to the same conclusion.

First of all, I think one of the main draws of video games is just plain and simple distraction. Games are fun (and often mindless), whereas real life is often difficult and sometimes not that enjoyable. If real life sucks, then the draw of a fantasy world is even more powerful. It becomes an escape, a fictional place you can enter and lose track of time and worries. As a side note, this could be why time seems to pass much differently (read: faster) while playing video games, as anyone who has played them even a little could tell you. It's almost like they really do create a different reality.

Second, video games are powerful, both emotionally and chemically. You might have thought I was speaking a little strongly when I called myself a recovering addict, but the reality of this situation is pretty disturbing. You've probably heard of people who are addicted to gambling, people who lose all their money but can't seem to stop gambling it away even as it destroys their lives. Well, video game addiction is like the socially acceptable stepsister of that. Studies have shown that successfully completing objectives in video games releases the same chemicals in the same areas of the brain that are present in gambling addicts. It really is possible to become chemically dependent on these games! I'm not saying that I am/was or anything, but I know the adrenaline rush of accomplishing some ridiculously hard objective in a game. For those unfamiliar with the feeling, I'll just say that it gives a very real sense of satisfaction and fulfillment, but one that is totally unwarranted. The reason it's unwarranted, obviously, is that the accomplishment took place in an imaginary world and has no lasting impact on anything, but the feeling can still fool you into a false sense of importance. It's easy to see how you could easily have your whole life wrapped up in this fulfillment.

Finally and most important, I think people play video games because they want control. I saw an advertisement the other day for something on a video game website that showed some fictional beasts battling at the direction of a cloaked figure in the background. At the end of the flash animation, the slogan for this particular product popped up: "Here, I rule." It hit me right away that this ad was only unique in that it was stating explicitly what other ads usually leave to the imagination. And honestly, what better way to market a game to adolescents could there be? This generation of young people finds itself completely powerless against the forces tearing it apart: divorce, abuse, neglect... and the list goes on. Then along comes a product that promises that whatever may be going on in other aspects of your life, here in this one little zone you can have complete control, can be a champion, can dominate those who try to limit you. It's almost irresistible.

I'd be letting a lot of people unfairly off the hook, though, if I said that this phenomenon only applies to hurting teens or adolescent dreamers. The truth is, a lot of adults are hooked on video games too, because all of us have this twisted desire for control. For us, it's just a different set of problems that we're trying to dodge: finances, responsibilities we don't want, and even the emotional brokenness due to the problems on the young person list above, among others. These problems can be avoided in many different ways, of course, but video games are just a blatant example of how we try to take control. I mean, what are those things we use to play video games called? You guessed it: controllers.

Now, the big problem with control is, in essence, that it kills us. We were never designed to have it, and when we do have it we invariably use it to mess up our lives in ways more creative and painful than we can ever foresee. I know I've done this all too often, but I don't know if I ever realized it was because I was trying to fulfill a role that I don't have the capacity to carry out. Paul puts it this way: "Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body" (1 Corinthians 6:19-20). Simply stated, we don't belong to ourselves. We were made to be vessels of God's glory, nothing more. So when we try to take control (i.e. give ourselves the glory), it doesn't work. It always backfires, and what's worse, it dirties up God's temple.

The good news is that there's an easy way to solve this problem, at least as it applies to video games: turn them off. It's funny, but if I'm going to be honest, I've been afraid for years that God was going to make me stop playing video games and "take all my fun away." But as I start to see what they've been doing to me all this time (distracting me from real life, addicting me, and making me more controlling, thereby stealing God's glory), I see that I won't really be missing out on anything if I never play another one. They just don't compare to the glory of God and the love he has for me. More on that topic is soon to come, but for now I'd encourage everyone to ask God what controllers of your life need to be placed in his hands. Granted, it's a bit of a risky prayer, but I think those are God's favorites. After all, what is a risk but a way that we step out of our own control? Just on the other side of those risks, he has freedom for us that we can't even imagine...

Constellations

The Bible is quite a big book. I've spent a lot of time studying it, but the funny thing about it is that there's always more to learn. It's almost like there's actually too much in there for our brains to actually keep hold of at once! This is really one of the amazing things about being a follower of Jesus, but I think that it can also lead to a problem that too many Christians fall into: compartmentalization. We study or hear a teaching about one specific topic or verse, and we can remember and hold onto that one for awhile. The next week, we get some other individual answer and we hold onto that. The week after that, a different one, and so on. Now, this seems like it would work out, the constant accumulation and stacking of knowledge in theory giving us an ever larger database of wisdom to consult as we face the issues of our lives.

Unfortunately, what I'm finding to be true for my life is that my capacity for successfully remembering and retaining the lessons I learn this way is much smaller than I would hope for. If I had to make a highly scientific and educated guess, I would say that my capacity level is approximately 3. That is, I can keep track of about three life lessons at a time. More than that, and some of them start getting pushed back into the dark recesses of my brain. This is not to say that they are forgotten, just that they're not at the forefront, not at the top of my mind bursting to be lived out.

Here's the thing, though: the problem I mentioned earlier is not a problem with me and my limited capacity. God knows I'm frail and he hasn't called me to more than he's given (or giving) me grace to do. The problem is with this weird system that we accidentally fall into as Christians where we compartmentalize our life lessons and try to apply them separately (and, all too often, one at a time). We study the Bible this way too, focusing on one verse or concept at the expense of the rest. It's kind of like going outside in Cleveland at night. We live our lives in such a polluted space with so many other things filling our vision that we can only see one or two stars at a time. They seem disconnected, individual points of light lost in swirling darkness.

Can you see where I'm headed with this analogy? The individual stars certainly aren't bad things. But, God has much more for us than just a couple stars here and there. He wants to give us the whole heaven, really. And he wants our lives to be more than just fragments and splintered efforts at holding onto a few lessons we've learned. Psalm 86:11 has to be our constant prayer: "Teach me Your way, O Lord; I will walk in Your truth; Unite my heart to fear Your name."

A united heart. Not some collection of insights, feelings, lessons, and whatever else we accumulate along the way, but one integrated whole, moving in one direction, only toward God.

God wants to give us this wholeness. I think that's why he made his book the way he did. 66 different books, one purpose. It's really incredible how the Bible is an integrated whole given its construction, but it is, and the more I read it, the more God connects the dots of the individual stars into the overarching master plan. I'm not claiming to see the whole sky or anything, mind you, but every now and then I think I at least see some constellations. So, from time to time I might use this space to diagram some of them and play some "connect the scriptures." In that spirit, here's what I would have to call the big dipper:

God has told us what we need to do to live an integrated life, to have a united heart. Remember how I was saying that we live with so much going on that we can only focus on one or two things at a time? Turns out I didn't come up with that idea, Jesus did. He told Martha in Luke 10:41-42, "You are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed." Funny, she was just like us. She was so worried about doing the right things for Jesus and getting her house in order that she totally missed the point. What was the one thing that was needed? What Mary was doing, sitting at Jesus' feet.

So, Biblical transitive property: A) Martha was a normal person like us. B) For her, God said only one thing was needed. Therefore C) For us also, only one thing is needed. We MUST sit at Jesus' feet. That's it. (By the way, some people might object to this by saying that nothing will ever get done if we all live this way. That, however, is ridiculous because if we spend all our time that close to God, when he moves we'll have to move as well. If he's doing something we'll have to do it too, just in order to stay close. And Jesus definitely didn't spend all his time sitting around. He also liked healing the sick, throwing tables, making the wise look foolish and hanging out with little kids, to name just a few. I think the real issue people have with living at his feet is that they don't really like the things he wants us to do.)

Parenthetical tangents aside then, all we need to do is sit at Jesus' feet. This is what Jude was talking about when he said to "Keep yourselves in God's love as you wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ to bring you to eternal life" (verse 21). It sounds so simple: keep yourselves in God's love. Live there. Soak in it. You don't have to earn it; it's a given, so just accept it. So why in the wonderful world of Disney do we have so much trouble doing this?

Short answer: because we have orphan hearts (see the previous entry for more on that). Two problems go into this. First, we all mess up sometimes (ok, a lot of times) and do things that aren't really worthy of love. Second, we all have been in situations where people in authority over us responded to our mistakes with anger and wrath instead of (or more stickily, mixed with) loving discipline. The end result that keeps us away from God is fear. Somehere inside we seem to be afraid that God is just gearing up to zap us for the wrong that we have so obviously committed. But, God is perfect by definition, so his love for us is perfect, and "Perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment" (1 John 4:18). The key word here is "because." It means that perfect love has to get rid of fear, because of fear's connection with punishment. By implication, there is no punishment in love.

To summarize, if we rest in God's love, we have no need of fear because there is no possibility of punishment. I know that this is dicey ground to walk, so hear me out. The important thing is the difference between punishment and discipline. Punishment is associated with the anger and wrath we have all felt from those above us that leaves us wounded. The truth is, though, that once we accept Jesus' sacrifice for us and his love, God has no more wrath for us, ever. The entire punishment for all our sins, past, present and future, has already been borne by Jesus on the cross. "He was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed" (Isaiah 53:5). There is no leftover punishment that God reserves to pound us with as we mess up, since it is already used up.

Do sins still have negative consequences? Of course, but they do NOT change God's heart towards us in any way. He allows us to experience the troubles related to our mistakes "because the Lord disciplines those he loves" (Proverbs 3:12). He loves us enough to help us stop doing the things that are hurting us. This is love, not wrath; discipline, not punishment. Discipline is not punitive; it makes us disciples. See the linguistic connection? So, God uses our mistakes to draw us closer, not to push us away. We're the ones that push away from him because we think we aren't worthy of his unaccountable love.

But we are. Not through our own goodness or effort though, so don't get the wrong idea. The coolest thing of all is that, similarly to how Christ bore our sins and the punishment connected with them, he also has become "The LORD our righteousness" (Jeremiah 33:16). This was what Paul was talking about in Philippians 3:9 when he said that his one desire was to "be found in Him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ-- the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith."

Righteousness comes only from God. But, if we believe, he gives us credit for Jesus' righteousness, so we don't have to feel unworthy. That lets us, like Paul, be "found in him." Sounds an awful lot like sitting at his feet, no? I think that connects the last dot of this particular constellation. That's how we live with a united heart. The Bible is amazing.

So, now you know why it was so long between my updates. This entry has been stirring in me for quite awhile, and I just didn't feel like writing anything else in between. I plan to update a bit more frequently in the future, but I wanted to get this one out, because really everything else I say should be taken in light of this quest for a united heart and life. It's the redefinition I was talking about before. Just one thing to hold onto, and it's so simple. Whatever my situation, I will sit at Jesus' feet.






P.S. The whole time I was writing this, the other tab of my browser was on http://www.blueletterbible.org/ which is probably the best website on the internet. Yeah, you heard me, the whole internet. Any possible way you could really want to study or search the Bible is on there. Check it out! Oh, and on a slightly relevant note to that, all the Bible quotations in this post (and actually in this blog as a whole) are from the NIV unless I say otherwise because that's what I'm most familiar with and it's easily accessible. The only one in this post that isn't is Psalm 86:11 which is NKJV, which I used because occasionally the NIV doesn't accurately convey the force or meaning or just coolness that a scripture should have, and this verse is a prime example of that. If you compare them on Blue letter, you'll see why. OK, that's really the end now. Until next time...