Selfish Religion Strikes Again

Photo by SheCat

It was one of those mornings when I just didn't feel "connected" to God.  Didn't feel like I had my act together, spiritually.

Uh oh.  Warning bells should be sounding already.

"Didn't have my act together spiritually?"  Who am I kidding?  Are there ever mornings when I DO have my act together spiritually?

Well, ok, maybe it was just a poor choice of words.

Or maybe it really should have clued me in.

The usual morning battle began with its typical frustrations, and I was struggling with my usual surges of frustrated anger.  And so the self-talk began.

"I've been reading all these wonderful grace-based parenting books, but this morning I just can't seem to access all the wonderful, inspired feelings those books gave me.  I don't want to browbeat this child.  I don't want to drive him further away from God.  I don't like how angry I feel.  I don't like the kind of parent I'm being..."

I...me..my...

We often think of Pharisaism as the desire to be one's own savior via one's own righteousness, and that's true.  But Pharisees take it even further.

Pharisees (like me much of the time) don't just want to be our own saviors.  We want to be our own creators.  We like a certain religious "look," and we will orchestrate our behavior to get the "look" that pleases us.

"I don't like the kind of parent I'm being.  I need to be different."

We are determined to create ourselves in the image of what we like about religion.  If we like lots of legalism, we'll make ourselves strict legalists.  If we've decided we like grace, then we'll make ourselves gracious.

Except, of course, that grace is something we can't create.  We can only receive it and pass it along.  And we cannot receive it if we're too busy trying to create it ourselves.

So there I stood, frustrated and angry, looking at my child with my physical eyes, but looking at me-me-me with the eyes of my heart.  My feelings were quickly teetering towards the old familiar desperation, because of yet one more self-deception that we Pharisees labor under.  We stagger, crushed under the lie that we are to be our children's saviors.  We have to create ourselves into the religious image we believe is best, so that we can save our children.

No wonder we get so ugly and hateful and mean, when we're carrying such a heavy burden that we were never designed to carry, one we know we can't bear.  One that is crushing the very breath out of us.

There's only one way out of this kind of tailspin.

It's called Love.

And love, my friends, does not focus on self.  Not even with the best of intentions.

Pharisaism says, "What kind of parent do I need to be?"  It feels either arrogance, anger, or a terrified squeezing in the chest.  Because it's all about me.

Love says, "What kind of love and grace does this child need?  Father, what would you like to give him?  Savior, show Yourself to him."  Love may ask the child, "What do you need?  How can I help you?  How can I serve you?"  (Notice the "I" isn't gone...it's just not central.  It's not creator, savior, or controller.)

Love lives in a wide place, where the air flows freely and breathing is easier.  It throws off the claustrophobic self-absorption of Pharisaism, and the weight that we cannot bear.

Pharisaism seeks iron-clad control.  Love seeks to give itself away and, in the process, it hopes to influence in healthy ways.

The difference is profound.

Oh, love still hurts. Sometimes it hurts a lot. But it hurts in the right ways, ways that our Lord has promised to comfort. And because love knows that God stands supreme, that Christ has poured out His love in our hearts (both for our sake and for giving away to others), love can relax.  Love knows that it acts as a conduit rather than as a self-sufficient creator.

And love has the power to transform us in ways that are far deeper and more real than any of our attempts at self-creation.  Don't you think I was a different mother this morning, the moment I stopped critiquing my performance and started simply loving my child?  Of course I was...and yet that's not the best thing that happened this morning.

The best thing that happened was that my child and I experienced some of God's love and grace, in ways that honored the Lord.  My joy is not primarily that I became something I can feel good about, but that the Lord and my "neighbor" (in this case, my child) were loved as they should have been.  True, the "benefits to me" and the "benefits to others" may be two sides of the same coin, but if I focus on the "me" side, the love quickly disappears, and ugly things arise in short order.

It all boils down to this...are we trying to love primarily for our own sakes, or for others' sakes?  If it's primarily for our own sakes, it isn't really love at all, and those on the receiving end of our hypocrisy will see that fact with painful clarity.

A. W. Tozer said it well:

"While we are looking at God 

we do not see ourselves - 

blessed riddance!  

The man who has struggled to purify himself 

and has had nothing but repeated failures 

will experience real relief 

when he stops tinkering with his soul 

and looks away to the perfect One.  

While he looks at Christ, 

the very thing he has so long been trying to do 

will be be getting done within him."

Which is, in fact, what 2 Co. 3:18 is trying to teach us.  (If you're reading the blog in a feed reader, you might want to click through to the actual blog page, where Scripture references appear as live links so you can read them.)

Remember that Jesus said that all the law and the prophets can be summed up in the command to love the Lord our God with all our heart, and soul, and mind, and strength, and to love our neighbor as ourselves (see Matt 22:35-40).  And that kind of love is not something we can work up in our own strength, but as we walk with the Lord, we can rest assured that He will develop that love within us, so we need not be afraid to hope for it (see Rom 5:5).

Love the Lord, abide in His love, and love your neighbor.  As you do these things, the Lord will make you what He wants you to be.

Jonah, The "Whale," and Science - IOW Tuesday

As you probably know, I participate in a weekly writing activity called "Fiction Friday." I've recently discovered another such activity called, "In Other Words." Bloggers are given a prompt on Thursday, and are asked to write about it and post it on the following Tuesday. I don't know if I'll participate every week, but this one caught my eye.

This week's "In Other Words" is being hosted by Deborah at Chocolate & Coffee. Head over there after reading my entry to find links to all the other participants' entries.

This week's quote:

Tozer opened a can of worms with that one!

First of all, God didn't say a whale swallowed Jonah. That was a translator's take on it. The original Hebrew said, "a great fish." So the measurement of whale gullets is irrelevant. But the questions raised here are important ones anyway, especially considering the intellectual snobbery of atheism today.

"Christians are afraid of science! If you become a Christian, you have to check your brains at the door. Only Atheism is intellectually satisfying." That sneering sentiment is taught from college lecterns and speakers' podiums every day. But it is based on a number of faulty premises:

Faulty premise #1. Science is foolproof and can be trusted. Scientists are often wonderfully blind to the fact that theories which once seemed rock solid are constantly being revised or discarded altogether. Theories truly are a dime a dozen, and since evolutionary science is based almost entirely on untestable, unprovable ideas, it lacks a great deal of validity. Thomas Kuhn (who did not write from a Christian point of view) wrote a wonderful book called "The Structure of Scientific Revolutions." Amazon.com quotes scientist Steven Weinberg as saying that this book "has had a wider influence than any other book on the history of science." It provides wonderful insights into the way science really works, showing how new theories don't necessarily represent an advancement in understanding of the truth. Though it is far from "light reading," I highly recommend it.

Faulty premise #2. Christianity doesn't have any good science behind it. Christianity has plenty of good science behind it. But that science, along with those who teach it, is censored, censured, and persecuted into silence. Professors who espouse non-atheistic views simply aren't allowed to continue working. I haven't yet seen the movie, "Expelled," but I have heard that it does a good job of documenting the outrageous censorship and persecution of "outside the box" thinkers in academia today. I also recommend The Truth Project. I have seen only the first two installments, but am enjoying it tremendously. It is one of many proofs that there are great minds in Christendom. But I won't go to a lot of trouble to dig up more examples or arguments for this point. Why? Because of...

-The third and biggest false premise: that atheistic scientific inquiry is really about finding truth.

It's not.

Now there's a statement that's sure to raise hackles, but I firmly believe it. We humans search for and embrace anything that supports what we love. And at the deepest levels, we search for and embrace that which supports either our love for God, or our hatred of Him. There is nothing deeper motivating any of us. Jesus said, "This is the condemnation, that light has come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil" (John 3:19). Why do I believe that this is the deepest motivation behind atheistic science? Because the fact is, if an ardent atheist can't counter an argument by a Christian, he will not change his mind. He will search desperately for a different argument. And when he finds one, how will he feel? Relieved! Why? Because he once again has a rationalization for the godlessness that he loves. It's a heart thing, not a head thing. His love for godlessness will not change (barring a miraculous work of the Spirit), so he would rather go without "the best argument" than accept one which supports the God whose existence he despises.
An agnostic once told me, "I would be disappointed if I found out that all of this was created. It would ruin everything for me." Why? She went on to explain that, in her view, mankind was the center of everything, and to her, that was beautiful. It's all about what she loves (mankind, and herself in particular). But to the lover of God, nothing is more beautiful than seeing His glorious handiwork.
And think about this. If an atheist firmly believed that a whale had swallowed a man in the distant past, he would create a theory about ancient whales (and the absence of fossil evidence wouldn't faze him). He would resort to an endless list of "could haves" and "would haves" to make it all look pretty, and before long his theories would be presented in school textbooks as likely facts. Don't believe me? Just listen to any nature show on The Discovery Channel. Count all of the "could haves," "would haves," and unsubstantiated, untestable claims. Compare that to the number of provable claims. You might be surprised.
And of course the same works in reverse. Just as the godless scientist loves godlessness, so the godly scientist loves God. And each type of scientist brings his or her own bias to the table every time. There's no such thing as unbiased inquiry into the untestable.
Still not convinced? Think about this fact. Atheistic evolutionists really couldn't care less which evolutionary models you embrace, regardless of how the various models may contradict each other. They only care that you DON'T embrace Creationism. By all means, disagree in any way BUT THAT! It's bias, pure and simple.
If anyone truly changes camps, it will be because of a change of heart, not just mind. That's why trying to convince the mind of an atheist is often not the best route. What he needs is a heart change, and only the Spirit can do that. Talk to the atheist about sin, about righteousness, and about judgment. Jesus said that those are things which the Holy Spirit specializes in impressing on hearts (John 16:8). You never know. God could use you as a tool when He does a miracle in someone's heart.

Tozer was onto something!

One Way It's Not About Me (Or You)

There are lots of ways that it's not about us.

The world doesn't like that fact. The flesh hates it. The Devil rebels against it.

It must be a good thing.

One of the ways that "it's not about me" hit me tonight as I sat down for my devotions. I knew I hadn't had it all together today, and the enemy was trying very hard to discourage me. I wanted to approach devotions hard-heartedly, with all my defenses up against feelings of failure.

But it's not about me.

It's about Him.

God, the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Spirit. One God in three Persons. That's who it's about.

He is the one who has held me thus far. He holds me now. He will hold me forever.

Yes, I must repent of known sin and turn more fully to Him, endeavoring by His grace to "go and sin no more." But that's really all the attention I should give myself.

A. W. Tozer (1897-1963) said,
"Faith is the least self-regarding of the virtues. It is by its very nature scarcely conscious of its own existence. Like the eye which sees everything in front of it and never sees itself, faith is occupied with the Object upon which it rests and pays no attention to itself at all. While we are looking at God we do not see ourselves--blessed riddance. The man who has struggled to purify himself and has had nothing but repeated failures will experience real relief when he stops tinkering with his soul and looks away to the perfect One. While he looks at Christ the very things he has so long been trying to do will be getting done within him. It will be God working in him to will and to do."

I messed up today. Of course I messed up today! I'm going to mess up every day. I'm human.

On one hand, I must not take this lightly. Sin is deadly serious business (see the blog entry for July 29, 08 called, "How Seriously Does Heaven Take Our Sin?") Sin cost our Lord the agony of Calvary and more. It costs humans their eternal souls if not dealt with at the Cross. It must be hated and repented of wholeheartedly.

But if my sin and failure become the main focus of my life, I'm playing right into Satan's hand. And it's not mainly for the reasons you might think. It's not mostly because I'll get discouraged if I focus on sin, though of course that's true. It's not because it will damage my self-esteem (something I shouldn't be seeking anyway).

It is because:

1. Anything that holds our spiritual focus more than God becomes an idol...even our sin. We may not think of it as an idol, but it is. Strong's Concordance defines the Hebrew word for worship this way: "prostrate (especially reflexively in homage to royalty or God): - bow (self) down, crouch, fall down (flat), humbly beseech, do (make) obeisance, do reverence, make to stoop, worship." The Greek word for worship carries the same connotations. (It makes you wonder about what passes for "worship" in many churches these days, but that's going to have to wait for another day.) Who or what do we worship as an idol? It's anyone or anything besides God before whom we fall flat, overcome or overwhelmed. It is anyone or anything which we believe holds the power to determine our destiny. Our sin deserves no such obeisance from us. Only God does.
2. Anything that takes our focus away from God keeps us from enjoying Him. We cannot pursue obedience to the greatest commandment, "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength," if all that fills our vision is ourselves and our sin. We cannot enjoy all of His glorious attributes, or encourage others to glorify Him, if He is eclipsed by evil in our eyes. We cannot know His peace, His joy, His hope, or His comfort if all we know is self, self, self.
   

It's not about us. Thank God, it's not about us!

So how should I approach my devotions tonight? As one who is neither surprised nor discouraged by my own sinfulness. After all, it is only pride that is surprised by failure. Humility is not. And it's only pride that is discouraged by failure. Chambers says, "Discouragement is disillusioned self-love." He is so right!

How should I approach my devotions tonight?

• As one who has eaten only scantily today, and who is starving for more of what is good.
  
• As one who trusts the Giver implicitly, and does not look to herself to decide what her fate will be.
  
• As one who loves the Father and has no desire to waste her affections on anything less.

I'm so sad, so lonely, and so hungry whenever I think it's all about me! But when I remember Who everything really revolves around, then I'm ready to let my soul delight itself in abundance (Isa. 55:2).

Please click here if you would like to read a poem that I wrote about the emptiness of a self-focused life, and may God bless you with more of Himself!



(Photo by Betsy Markman, 4/96)