Scenes From the Spiritual Gym (A Farce That's All Too True)

Scenes from the Spiritual Gym

(Part 1 of a Series)

(Photo credit: jackiebese)

At one of thousands of branches of the American Church Gym:

"Good morning, sir (or ma'am).  What are your spiritual goals, and how can I help you achieve them?"

"Well, I haven't been having my quiet times regularly enough.  I looked in the mirror the other day, and my 'quiet times' abs aren't looking much like a six-pack anymore."

"Oh, well, we can't have that, now, can we?  So, to help us get to know you a little better, please tell us which coaching model you prefer:

• The legalistic accountability partner who motivates you by fear and guilt
• the warm-fuzzy, 'you're not so bad,' coach
• the highly-inspiring 'cheerleader' coach

"Um...well, I guess whichever one will help me reach my goals the fastest.  I really hate these flabby 'service' muscles in my arms, and this fat 'self-control' abdomen!"

"Oh boy, I sure do understand that!  Well here, let's try one kind of coaching approach, and if you find that that's not helping you reach your goals, we'll try a different one, okay?"

"Sounds good!"

"Now, to get us started, let's step in front of that spiritual mirror.  Let's chart what you see compared to what you hope to see, and then we'll know what goals you'll want to pursue."

"Makes sense.  But I'm a little uncomfortable with all the mirrors in here.  Doesn't that seem...I don't know...egotistical or something?  Aren't Christians supposed to be humble?"

Mirror (Photo credit: Chapendra)

The coach laughs and waves a dismissive hand.  "Oh, don't be silly. The Bible says we're to examine ourselves, right?  And how can you do that without a mirror, or goals, or other Christians to compare yourself to?"

"Well, I guess the Bible does say that.  But ugh, I HATE mirrors!"

"Oh, don't worry, we'll whip you into shape in no time, and pretty soon you'll be so spiritually buff that you'll LOVE mirrors!"

"But...but...what about humility?"

"Oh, don't worry about that, either.  We'll keep reminding you.  Humility is one of those spiritual goals, after all, right?  So you just remember to repeat to yourself every day as you look in the mirror, 'Yes, I've still got a ways to go, but by the grace of God I'll be more spiritually buff tomorrow, and then I'll have more to praise Him for!'  That's the key to humility, you know.  The more spiritually buff you become, the more humble it is to scoff and say, 'Oh, no, God did this for me.'  Your 'humility pecs' will pop for sure!"

"So it's a win-win, I guess.  I get to like what I see in the spiritual mirror, and I get to say things that give Jesus the glory!"

"Exactly!  Now you understand the Christian life!"  The coach gives you a wink and an elbow-nudge.  "Don't those 'Praise Jesus' T-shirts look better and more convincing on a hot bod?"

You laugh, and you have to admit that it's a convincing argument.  But there are still some things that you don't understand, so you keep asking questions.

"Okay, well, pardon my dumb question, but what exactly is 'sin?'"

"Oh, well, sin is forgetting your spiritual goals, and not working on them.  You know, not doing quiet times, not putting money in the Salvation Army bucket, that sort of thing."

"And repentance?"

"That's easy!  Repentance means recommitting yourself to your goals!"

"And what is faith?"

"Why, faith is believing that Jesus will help you reach your goals, of course!"

"What is worship, then?"

"Worship is praising God for helping you reach your goals.  And besides, he likes praise, right?  Who doesn't?  So worship helps motivate him to help you reach your goals!"

"Then who is Jesus in this whole process?"

"Well, think of him as your Invisible Fitness Coach.  When you're looking in the mirror, he's looking, too!  If you're getting more and more buff, he smiles more and more.  If you're being naughty, he starts to frown.  But don't worry."  Another dismissive wave of the hand.  "He's very forgiving.  Just say 'I'm sorry,' and promise to do better next time.  It's all good."

"Okay, I think I see it all now.  Let's get to work!"

"Whoo, I love that spirit!  Let's make you look like you want to look, and be what you want to be.  Let's make you LOVE that spiritual mirror!"

So, you begin what you hope will be a lifetime of buffing up under the eye of Jesus, the Invisible Fitness Coach.  But you dread his gaze, and you hope you can buff up quickly.

You look around yourself at the guys and gals who have bulging muscles everywhere.  It's obvious they've been doing targeted toning, so that they've reached a point of fashionably grotesque physiques. The kind of bodies that actual, productive physical labor never forms.  Their bodies are consciously-sculpted gym bodies.

You have to admit, they impress you, and you know that a "Praise Jesus" T-shirt looks a lot better on them than it does on you.

Come to think of it, they inspire you much more than your Invisible Jesus guy.  He's a mystery, but they're clear.  And you like them better...at least some of them...the ones who think you're worth their time, and who will notice you and encourage you.

After a while, the Invisible Coach makes you even more uncomfortable to think about than he used to. Why? Because not only is he judging your buff-ness, but you also have a sneaking suspicion that, if you could see Him, He wouldn't look anything like the pec-poppers around you.

And that means (HORRORS!) that you suspect He wouldn't look anything like what you're trying to become.  And that makes you vaguely angry.  What does he want from you anyway?  You're not sure, but you know what YOU want from yourself.  You know what YOUR spiritual goals are.  You know which part of you you want to sculpt next.  And you know that it has something to do with reading your Bible every day and doing good works (especially the specific types of good works that are most heavily promoted by your branch of the gym).  So you just keep going, following the coaches you can actually see.

Zulfiya Chinshanlo World Champion 2009  (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In the end, you'll love yourself, and either forget the Invisible Coach, or find that the highest praise you can give Him is, "Look at how awesome he made me!"

Or, you'll hate yourself and the coach, because it was all just too hard, and everybody in the gym is a hypocrite anyway.

Welcome to the Christian life.

Or not.

Stay tuned...

Next:  Scenes from the Sheepfold

Propping up Dagon

Image by allison hope nichols via Flickr

Those poor Philistines...

Their god was broken!

The trouble began after they defeated the Israelites and took away the Ark of Jehovah. What a coup that had been! And what more fitting thing could they have done than to bring the disgraced Ark into the temple of Dagon, their god, so that their god could enjoy looking at what he had conquered?

But things didn't turn out the way they'd hoped. The next morning, temple worshipers entered to find that their god had fallen down on its face before the Ark of Jehovah.

Well, that had proven embarrassing, but it had been a simple enough problem to resolve. Just get enough strong men to lift Dagon back up, and then the worship could go on, and all would be well, right?

Except the next morning, when the worshipers returned, they found Dagon prostrating himself before the Ark again, and this time his head and hands were broken off. Yet even after this, the Philistines still claimed Dagon as their deity.

We modern westerners shake our heads at the naiveté of our Philistine brothers of long ago (1 Sam 5:1-7). How could they be so foolish as to worship a statue, and to call something breakable "god?"

And yet God's Word tells us that we are guilty of all the things for which we judge others (Rom 2:1). And last night the Spirit brought the story of Dagon and the Ark to mind and convicted me with it.

I have no right to laugh at anyone. I have broken gods, and I have spent my life desperately trying to prop them up.

I'm willing to bet some of you have done the same.

"No," you may argue. "I don't worship anything that's broken in my life. I hate what's broken in my life!"

Really? Could it be that your hatred proves your worship? Why do you hate the broken things? Is it because you believe that their brokenness is the reason your life is unfulfilled? Doesn't that mean that you believe your fulfillment rests in the longed-for wholeness of those things?

If they were whole, life would be perfect.

Once you prop up Dagon, worship can go on, and all will be well, right? We can ignore the fragility and pretend it never happened.

Did it ever occur to you and me that, if something can be broken, it doesn't deserve the place of a god in our lives? It can't be the source of our soul's deepest needs.

What is my "Dagon?" What is yours? It is anything that we believe holds the key to our lives, our hopes, our dreams, our happiness, our fulfillment, our joy. It could be a certain person, a certain type of marriage or family situation, health for ourselves and our loved ones, a certain amount of money, or anything else.

For some of us, the idol hasn't been broken yet, and we choose to ignore the fact that it's fragile. Worship goes on unabated. But for others of us, the smashing has happened, and it hurts. Oh, how it hurts. We run frantically to pick up broken pieces, we search for the super glue, we sweat and strain and groan to put everything back together on its pedestal so life can go on again. It's our god, isn't it? We need it!

Even atheists have gods that they worship, though they would never call them by that name. But what is worship, if it is not the acknowledgment of the total worth of another, and our abject need of them? And what is a god, if it is not the person or thing that we worship?

Let's look back at the Biblical narrative. Not only had the Philistines' god been disgraced, but Jehovah had struck their city with terrible plagues. How did the Philistines handle their situation?

They acknowledged the superiority of Jehovah to Dagon (1 Sam 5:7), but did they bow before the True God? No, they decided to send Him away by sending away the Ark that represented His presence (1 Sam 5:11). And they created a new sacred ritual to worship the place where Dagon's broken body had landed (1 Sam 5:5).

Is anyone here going to argue that we do differently? What happens if we have to choose between obedient worship of God and whatever our idol might be? Which do we choose, especially in a knee-jerk moment?

How do we respond to God's call to rejoice in Him whatever our circumstances? Do we push Him away and tell Him we cannot possibly rejoice until we get all of the pieces glued back together? Do we resent Him for even implying that we should rejoice in Him when He hasn't fixed our idol for us?

Remember, the Ark of Jehovah sat there in the Temple while the worshipers of Dagon struggled to reassemble their god. The people ignored the Ark and did not worship Jehovah, and Jehovah did not help their repair efforts.

It would have been unloving for Him to have done so.

Last night, the Lord asked me to look at the broken, shattered pieces lying all around me, and He gently told me to stop trying to prop Dagon up.

Put down the shards. Turn around and look at Me. I am not broken, nor breakable. Your life might be easier with those pieces put together, but then you would worship them, and miss out on Me. Many unbelievers have the things you long for. Would you trade places with them? Do you really believe that these things you've spent your life longing for actually hold the key to life for you?

No, Lord. I had not realized that I was worshiping the image of a rebuilt idol. But I was, wasn't I? I believed everything depended on my fixing what was broken, or even on YOU fixing what was broken. Either way, my hope was in the wholeness of something other than You. But Your wholeness is eternal. I have been a fool. I do not need these things to be repaired. I only need you.

What does this mean in my life? Does it mean some sort of castle-in-the-sky spiritual aloofness? Do I tell others that they don't matter to me anymore, because I don't need them?

No, just the opposite. You see, worshipers are characterized by need. We need what our idols give us, whatever that may be. And when our idols prove to be less than infinitely rewarding (as idols inevitably do), we needy people tend to become demanding, self-centered, leechlike. The ugliness of our grasping may not be clear as long as we're getting what we want, but even so, we do not love as Christ loved. We love as the child loves the lollipop, as the addict loves the needle.

I love what you do for me. Period.

But what if I cease to have idols? What if I draw close enough to Christ to find my life in His infinite sufficiency? What if I no longer need to draw life from the people or things around me?

The closer I come to Christ, the less I will feel like hating the brokenness, or the broken people. They can't "let me down" if I am not demanding their wholeness to feed my soul. I will be patient with the brokenness, and will love the broken people, if I, in my own brokenness, find my life and my healing from Above. And ironically, when I cease demanding and start loving, God may use me to help heal the brokenness around me like never before, because my efforts will be acts of love, not attempts to rebuild an idol.

At least, that's what the Lord is showing me. Now to learn to live in the light of that truth…

I've got a long way to go.

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Yes, I've been gone a long time, and no, I didn't disappear off the planet. But life has happened, and life needs God's merciful intervention. Please pray for our family whenever you think of us. Thank you!

Love's Transforming Power

Image by Archie McPhee Seattle via Flickr

Does it matter what we love?

There are two ways that I can think of to address that question.  One is, "Do the objects of our love matter?"  And the other is, "Do the consequences of our love matter?"  Today I'd like to look at the second question, because I believe we are destined to become like what we love.

We live in a hedonistic culture which loves its entertainment, even the most depraved varieties.  And many, even within the church, will scoffingly ask, "What does it matter?  What's the harm in it?"

Does it matter what we love…what we focus on, what we commit our time and energies to, what we're devoted to?

Devotion…now there's an interesting word. Webster's Online Dictionary defines it as:

1 a : religious fervor : piety b : an act of prayer or private worship —usually used in plural c : a religious exercise or practice other than the regular corporate worship of a congregation
2 a : the act of devoting <devotion of time and energy> b : the fact or state of being ardently dedicated and loyal

Wow...love, devotion, and worship are very closely related, aren't they?

Does it matter what we love?

You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.

Deut 6:5-9

Those who love the Lord as commanded…aren't they really the only ones who are likely to teach His word diligently, to walk a life of integrity before their children, to pass on His legacy to the generations to come?

One of the things that love does is beholding…gazing at the object of its affection.  What effect does this have on us?

And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.

2 Co 3:18 

We are transformed according to our love.  There is no neutrality.  Should we really be surprised by that fact, when love, devotion, and worship are so closely tied together? 

So what happens to those who give their devotion to the idols of this world…gold, silver, the latest gadgets, the trendiest amusements?

Their idols are silver and gold, the work of human hands. They have mouths, but do not speak; eyes, but do not see. They have ears, but do not hear; noses, but do not smell.   They have hands, but do not feel; feet, but do not walk; and they do not make a sound in their throat. Those who make them become like them;
so do all who trust in them.

Psa 115:4-8

We find a similar "transformation" mentioned here:

Thus says the LORD: “What wrong did your fathers find in me that they went far from me, and went after  worthlessness, and became worthless?

Jer 2:5

Our idols, whatever they may be, are spiritually dead and worthless.  Do we really want to become like them?

Perhaps nowhere in Scripture is the dangerous aspect of love's transforming power spelled out more clearly than here:

They…became detestable like the thing they loved. Hos 9:10b

It would seem that we have serious choices to make.  Do we want to behold Him and be transformed from one degree of glory to another, or do we want to fix our hearts on sin and become detestable ourselves?  What affections will we encourage, feed, and finance in ourselves and our children?

Beloved, we are God's children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is. And everyone who thus hopes in him purifies himself as he is pure.

1 John 3:2-3

Love and Self-Denial

I haven't been able to write the follow-up for the previous post on bitterness...in fact, I haven't been able to write much of anything at all. Writer’s block happens. But I couldn’t let Valentine’s Day go by without posting something with a God-centered love theme. As usual, I found good stuff to chew on from G. H. Morrison this morning, and I wanted to share it with you. (All emphasis added by me. Some content edited out because of length.)

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Bring an offering, and come into his courts. Ps. 96:8

During worship there are certain demands made of every worshipper. There are certain elements which must be present if the worship is to be in spirit and in truth. There is, for instance, the attitude of thanksgiving for the goodness of God to us from day to day. There is the sense of spiritual need and the knowledge that none but God can meet that need. There is the sense of indebtedness to Christ who loved us and gave Himself for us, in whose death is our only hope and in whose Spirit is our only strength. All these attitudes must meet and mingle if our worship is to be really worship. Without them, a man may come to church and go away no better than he came.

But there is another attitude, not less important yet which is very frequently ignored, and that is the attitude of self-sacrifice. We all know that worship calls for praise, but we must remember it also calls for self-denial.

Love Offerings

To begin with, that element of sacrifice is seen in the matter of the money offerings. "Bring an offering, and come into his courts." No Jew came to his worship empty-handed. To give of his means was part of his devotions. Of the thirteen boxes in the Temple treasury, four were for the free-will offerings of the people. And this fine spirit of ancient worship passed over into the worship of the Church and was enormously deepened and intensified by the new thought of the sacrifice of Christ. "Thanks be unto God for His unspeakable gift"—that was the mainspring of Christian liberality. It was the glowing thought of all that Christ had given which motivated the poorest to be givers too.

Now while all such offerings were acceptable to God and while all brought a blessing to the giver, yet from earliest times it was felt by spiritual men that the true offertory must touch on self-denial. You remember the abhorrence of King David against offering to God that which had cost him nothing. And we have read of Jesus Christ and of His opinion of the widow's mite and of all the riches that He found in that because there was self-denial in her giving. Brethren, that is the mark of Christian giving. It reaches over into self-denial. I do not think we give in the spirit of Jesus until like Him we touch on self-denial, until His love constrains us to some sacrifice as it constrained Him to the sacrifice of all.

Let us then seriously ask ourselves—have we been giving to the point of sacrifice? Have we ever denied ourselves of anything that we might bring an offering and come into His courts? It is only thus that giving is a joy, only thus it brings us nearer Christ, only thus is it a means of grace as spiritual and as strengthening as prayer.

The Truest Offering Is in the Heart

Think in the first place of the case of David, a man who had been trained in ritual worship. You may be sure that from his earliest years he had never worshipped with that which cost him nothing. He had brought his offering, and he had paid for it, and he had denied himself that he might pay for it. The God whom he had found when he was shepherding was not a God to be worshipped cheaply. And then there came his kingship and his fall and the terrible havoc of his kingly character, and David found that all the blood of goats could not make him a true worshipper again. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit—a broken and a contrite heart. Let him give his kingdom for an offering, and he would not be an acceptable worshipper. He must give himself—he must deny his lusts—he must lay aside his pride and be repentant, or all his worship would be mockery and the sanctuary a barren place for him.

Christ's Teaching on Sacrifice

Now turn to David's greater Son, and listen to the words of Christ Himself. He is speaking in the Sermon on the Mount about bringing the offering to the altar: "Therefore, if thou bring thy gift to the altar and there rememberest that thy brother hath aught against thee, leave there thy gift before the altar and go thy way. First be reconciled to thy brother and then come and offer thy gift." Now note that Jesus is talking about worship. His theme is not the patching up of quarrels. He is teaching us what attitudes are needed if we are to worship God in spirit and in truth. And not only does He insist on giving—He takes that, we may say, for granted—but He insists that at the back of every gift there should be the self-denial of the heart. It is far easier to give up a coin than it is to give up a quarrel. It is easier to lay down a generous offering than to lay down a long-continued grudge. And Jesus Christ insists that if worship is to be acceptable to God, the worshipper must lay aside his pride and humble himself as a little child. That is not easy—it never can be easy. That is far from natural to man. It is hard to do and bitter and opposed to natural inclination. And it calls for patience and interior sacrifice and prayerful, if secret, self-denial; and only thus, according to the Master, can one hope to be an acceptable worshipper.

Who, then, is sufficient for these things? That is just what I want to impress upon you, that worship is not easy; it is hard. It is not just a comfortable hour on Sunday with beautiful music and a fluent preacher; it is an attitude of heart and soul that is impossible without self-denial. I thank God that in the purest worship there is little demand upon the intellect. The humblest saint who cannot write a word may experience all the blessings of the service. But there is a demand upon the soul; there is a call to sacrifice and cross-bearing, for the road to church is like the road to heaven—it lies past the shadow of the cross.

Worship and Fellowship

In public worship we are not simply hearers; we are a fellowship of Christian people. You may go to a lecture just to hear the lecturer or to the theater just to see a play. It doesn't matter who is there beside you. Not one of them would do a hand's turn for you or seek to help you if you were in difficulty or visit you if you were sick. At the theater there is an audience, but not so in the church. In any sanctuary that is blessed by the presence of the Lord, it is a fellowship of men and women bound together by their common faith and loving one another in Christ Jesus.

Now, in every fellowship must not there be a certain element of sacrifice? Isn't it so in the home, if home is to be more than a mockery? And it must also be so in the fellowship of worship… a constant willingness to forgo a little for the sake of others for whom Christ has died. The young have their rights, but they should not insist on them when they know it would vex and irritate the old. The old have their claims, but for the sake of the young, they will accept what may not appeal to them. And when a hymn is sung or the word is preached which seems to have no message for one worshipper, that worshipper will always bear in mind that for someone else that is the word in season. All that is of the essence of true worship and calls for a little sacrifice. A happy home is impossible without it, and so also a happy congregation. A tender regard for others by our side, with the denial that is involved in that, is an integral part of public worship.

Our Approach to God

The same truth is still more evident when we think of worship as our approach to God by the new and living way of Jesus Christ. Now it is true that we were made for God and that in Him we live and move and have our being. Yet such is the immersion in the world even of the most prayerful and most watchful that the approach to God with the whole heart demands a concentrated effort. Of course, we may come to church and be in church and never know the reality of worship. We may think our thoughts and dream our dreams and in spirit be a thousand miles away. But to quietly reject intruding thoughts and give ourselves to prayer and praise and reading is not always easy, and for some it is incredibly hard. If there were anything to rivet our attention, that would make all the difference in the world. In a theater we can forget ourselves, absorbed in the excitement of the play. But the church of the living God is not a theater, and in the day when it becomes theatrical, in that day its worship will be gone. If we want to wander, we can always wander. There is nothing here to rivet our attention. There are only a few hymns and a quiet prayer and the simple reading and expounding of Scripture. And it is for each one of us to make the needed effort and shut the gates and withdraw ourselves, and through that very effort comes the blessedness of the public worship of God in Jesus Christ. It is thus that worship becomes a heavenly feast—when we discipline our will to it. It is thus that worship becomes a means of grace in a hard-driven and hectic week. If it is to be a blessing, we must deny ourselves and take up our cross; we must bring an offering of sacrifice and come into His courts.

G.H. Morrison

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On this day when we celebrate love, let’s remember to love our Lord as He deserves. Then love for others will naturally overflow.

Why Should Everything Revolve Around God?

We naturally hate self-centeredness...in others.

We find it easy to despise those who arrange their lives around demanding attention, admiration, and praise (especially since they're pulling away some of the attention that we're sure is rightfully ours)!

We pity those whose souls are so full of leaks that they require constant re-inflation by everyone around them (especially since we flatter ourselves that we can stand on our own merits without anyone propping us up).

And yet we read in our Bibles about a God who demands worship.

Is God's soul full of leaks? The omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent, all-glorious, eternal Holy One...does He need His ego propped up by measly little creatures like us?

Of course not! God forbid that we should think of Him that way!

Many would argue that God's self-sufficiency makes it impossible for Him to be God-centered, or for Him to want us to revolve around Him. And to the extent that we hold this view, we will bristle at what seems to be brazen egotism in some of God's statements (see, for example, Ex. 20:3, Ps. 2:12, Isa. 66:23, Rom. 9:17).

Those who make no pretense of loving Him will openly despise such statements. Those who pretend to love Him will either avoid such statements, or apologetically explain them away. Much of the modern Western "church" does precisely that. "Let's protect God from His embarrassing egotism, and protect people from being offended by it. Don't preach those passages. Make services man-centered, because nothing else is truly 'relevant.'"

How tragic! In the eyes of such people, the Emperor truly has no clothes. He parades around the universe, embarrassing Himself with His delusions and demanding admiration from others. The church's job is to cover up His shameful nakedness with a cloak of decent man-centeredness. How else could He possibly be acceptable?

Ironically, those who claim that they defend God's honor by protecting Him from His own God-centeredness find themselves in the unenviable position of dishonoring Him. They say that they reject God-centeredness because it is insulting to Him to "prop Him up with human ego strokes." But they end up insulting Him by holding up human-stitched figleaf garments in front of Him so He won't shame Himself with his embarrassing Napoleon complex, His pompous nakedness (as they see it).

They avoid those Bible verses at all costs!

God, have mercy!

Why is our self-centeredness a weakness? Because we aren't anything special, and we delude ourselves if we think we are.

Why is God's God-centeredness a weakness in our eyes? Go on...fill in the blanks. If we believe that it's wrong for God to be God-centered, then we really believe that He isn't worth the honor. He's just deluding Himself. There's really something greater He ought to bow to. (And what, may I ask, do we think that might be?)

"But wait," you may protest. "Even greatness should be humble. Just because someone is great at what they do, it doesn't mean they should lord it over others."

I couldn't agree more! Behind every great man are the parts he doesn't want seen. The great athlete may have a drug problem. The great preacher may hire prostitutes in the dark of the night. The great king may commit adultery and murder. Great accomplishments are not the same as greatness. No matter what we do, it doesn't change what we are. We are mere mortals. We are walking dirt, given life by the breath of God, and we will collapse back into dust the moment His breath is called back to Him. This is the basis of our humility. To the extent that we lack humility, to that same extent we have forgotten what we're made of.

"Jesus was humble," you remind me. Oh indeed He was (and is)! But I must ask you, what is the basis of His humility?

Go back and ponder that question. What is the basis of Jesus' humility?

Is He humble for the same reasons that we are? Behind all of His great accomplishments, is there some hidden shame? Is there some lack of greatness anywhere in Him?

Listen to the testimony of Job, who spoke to God face-to-face, hearing an impressive litany of God's accomplishments. Did Job see any lack in who God is compared to what God has done?

"I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear,
but now my eye sees You.
Therefore I abhor myself,
and repent in dust and ashes."
(Job 42:5-6)

What he heard impressed him, but it was what he saw that humbled him. God's essence overwhelmed him.

And yet, in Christ, God proved Himself humble. His humility has a perfection that we will never fathom, precisely because His humility springs from flawlessness.

In the same way, His God-centeredness has perfections that we cannot fathom. Do not pollute His God-centeredness by comparing it with human ego! There is no comparison.

God is perfect in all His being, and that includes perfection in the truth. He cannot lie. He hates lies. And therefore, He cannot deny Himself. If He is the greatest, He will not lie about it. If He is worthy of an eternity of worship, He will not pretend otherwise.

Oh you who object to His God-centeredness, examine your heart! Is there not something in you which cries, "Why should everything revolve around Him...instead of me!"

Who is proud...the Perfect One who recognizes the truth about His own perfection, or the sinful wretch who wants to usurp glory for himself?

Why should everything revolve around Him instead of us? It would take an eternity to list the reasons. And there is no greater blessing He could offer us than an eternity spent enjoying those perfections as we praise Him. Yes, he demands worship, because it is utterly right that we should worship Him, and God demands what is right. But He has designed us to enjoy that worship...to find pleasure in it beyond anything we can fathom, so that His glory is our endless delight. He will not spend eternity yanking unwilling praise from unappreciative lips! He will find great pleasure in giving us the greatest gift he ever could give us, just as any loving parent enjoys seeing his children appreciating what he has given. And if the greatest gift He can give us is Himself, is it anything but kindness on His part that He gives it? Is it wrong of Him to enjoy our enjoyment of Him?

And yet He is humble. Look at Him, taking on human flesh, submitting to human spittle on his beard, to human insults and beatings, to the cross. If it is humility you long for, can you see that His is a humility greater than any human can ever show...and it is greater because it springs from One who has no imperfections? Can you see that His humility will satisfy your soul, as will all of His other perfections, in a way that no human humility ever will?

Is not His humility made far more glorious than ours, simply by virtue of the fact that He alone has the right to be proud?

What do you think He should do, if not giving us Himself as our greatest treasure? Would you have him substitute some other pleasure and give that lesser thing to us forever? What would you prefer to worship in the ages to come? If you reject Him as worthy of it, you must plan to put something...or someone...in His place. What would that be? Who would that be? Be honest.

Let us always be ashamed of our own pride, because it is undeserved. But if we are ever ashamed of His honest assessment of His own perfection, then it is because we believe it to be undeserved as well, and because we have forgotten His humility.

But without faith it is impossible to please Him,
for he who comes to God must believe that He is,
and that He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him.
Heb 11:6

He who comes to God must believe that He is...that He is what? My friend, is it not required of us that we believe Him to be what He says He is?

Only those who diligently seek Him will be rewarded. And why would we diligently seek Him, if we did not believe Him to be the greatest thing we could ever find?

In short, isn't God-centered faith required?

If your soul protests, why does it do so? What sort of faith do you think is better? Why is it better?

He does not need our measly praise. Nor does He need our measly protection. He needs nothing from us at all. And yet, because of a love that surpasses our comprehension, He has created us to enjoy Him ecstatically forever. Those who want to do so are welcome to do so. Those whose pride recoils in horror from such a prospect will not be required to do so. They will instead be granted an eternity of His absence, and they will find His absence to be Hell. Literally.

Do not fear being God-centered. Do not despise God's God-centeredness.

He is clothed, not with removable rags, but with His own unimpeachable glory. Throw away those fig leaves you've sewn together for Him.

The Emperor has more clothes than we can possibly imagine.

Do you look forward to gazing upon Him forever?

(Photo from Stock.xchng by Brunatka)

Praising with the Emptiness

In an earlier post I promised to share how God moved me to deal with a problem...the problem of feeling empty in the middle of a worship service.

This past Sunday I was settling into my usual way of handling such things; just going through the motions, and not admitting to myself that anything was wrong. But then I felt an unexpected nudge from the Spirit. It wasn't the emotional boost I might have hoped for. In fact, it was something better.

Can you worship Me with the fact that it's all empty without Me?

What? I felt a bit of delight creeping into my soul as the idea sank in. Even perhaps a touch of relief.

Yes, Lord. I certainly can.

So while my mouth sang words that my heart didn't feel, I offered this praise to my Father.

See, Lord? It's all empty without You. When I can't feel You, I can't be satisfied. That's because You're what I really want. You're what I really need.

Yes, Lord, what wonderful praise!

I won't insult You by trying to create my own emotions like any non-believer can do at a rock concert. I want Your joy, not man-made feelings! And if Your joy is lacking in my heart today, I will do You the honor of missing it!

I will do You the honor of missing You.

Yes, Lord! You can't be replaced by hype! You're too wonderful to be traded in for any substitute! I would rather hunger and thirst while waiting for you, than fill up on my own artificially-sweetened snacks.

This is a whole new kind of praise for me, and I like it. I like it because:

• It's real
• It's God-centered
• It's not demanding what I want to get out of a praise service, but rather praising Him as He deserves, to the best of my ability at that time
  
• It stands to receive all of the blessings He has promised to those who wait for Him.

Can I extend this principle to other areas of my life?

One of the things I absolutely despise about housework is the emptiness of it. It lacks so much that my heart craves.

Can I offer that emptiness to God? Can I refuse to fill my soul with substitutes? Can I actively cultivate a hunger and thirst for my Creator?

If I can do that, then the emptiness itself can become a blessing. What if I wait for His blessing instead of manufacturing my own, believing that His will be infinitely better?

It is impossible to cultivate hunger while constantly munching. So tomorrow, when housework threatens me with its seemingly life-sapping demands, and the computer beckons with all of its delights, can I willingly shoulder the drudgery and offer it to God as praise?

Lord, I know that You have given rich meaning to housework, but I can't feel it. Never have been able to. I've always resented it, always hated it. But now I want to lift this emptiness to You. I admit that it seems lifeless to me because I can't feel You in it. I confess that there must be sin in me that's blocking our fellowship. In the past I have always "dealt" with this by avoiding the work, or doing it grudgingly, or at best doing it in the power of my flesh for as long as I could stand to (which was never very long). I always thought I hungered for more computer time, more writing time, more amusement time, more ANYTHING time. That's where I have had it all wrong.

What I really hunger for is You.

This emptiness is really praise, because I refuse to fill it with idols. I praise You by believing that this soul-void really CANNOT be filled with anything but You. If You tarry, I will wait patiently while continuing to obey. I will do this because I believe that You only feed hungry hearts. I want to stop glutting on the world's Twinkies so I can be hungry enough to feed on You.

When sin (laziness, wrong priorities) beckons, please God help me to remember You in Your ways, and to rejoice in doing righteousness (Isa. 64:5). And then feed me. Oh Father, please feed me!

But until You do, give me the courage, the hope, and the faith to wait on You, as Your Word so clearly tells me to do.

I write this with some fear. Hunger hurts, and I've never been able to avoid spiritual junk food for very long. In fact, as I was writing that prayer, I realized that it bore a pretty strong resemblance to something I wrote back in August. God's been trying to get this through my head for a while, and I haven't come very far with it.

But I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Even hungering.

Yes, Lord, by Your grace, even hungering.

The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the soul who seeks Him. (Lam. 3:25)
Blessed are those who hunger.... (Matt. 5:6)

(Photo from Stock.xchng by scol22)

Emptiness on Sunday Morning

I had an "empty" time this morning.

It was Sunday morning, and I stood in church with everyone else. We all sang, and I liked the songs well enough.

But I felt nothing.

Don't you just hate that?

I wish I could say that that was the first time I'd ever felt nothing during a worship service. But of course it wasn't. And when that sort of thing happens, I'm left with some choices.

• I can face the deadness, refuse to participate, and decide there's nothing to Christianity, OR
• I can face the deadness and put on a good front for the other churchgoers, OR
• I can refuse to face the deadness and ignore the fact that I'm merely going through the motions, OR
  
• I can feel panicked about the deadness and reach deep into my flesh for the feelings I want to achieve, trying to pump up emotions from the rhythm of the music, or from some other human-powered thing, just like any non-believer can do at a rock concert, OR
• I can pray for God to give me the emotional experience I crave, OR...
  

Or what? Is there another option?

What do you do under such circumstances? I'd love to read your comments.

Monday's entry will be taken up by "Monday Manna," and Tuesday's entry by "In Other Words," but on Wednesday I'll share what the Lord encouraged me to do with my emptiness this morning. Perhaps it might bless someone as it blessed me.

In the meantime, please share your thoughts

(Photo from Stock.xchng by Zoostory)