Don't Look Down

There are lots of analogies to describe how the Christian fits into society, whether it involves being light or being salt or being fishermen or whatever. However, I think there’s room for another analogy in the mix: a bridge. After all, the Christian has to exist in two worlds: the spiritual world and the physical world. And, as I’m sure all of you know, those two worlds don’t really move in the same direction.

I liked the topic of plate tectonics in middle school, and it totally comes in handy here, because if a bridge spans two tectonic plates (i.e. the spiritual world and the physical world), it’s gonna find itself under a great amount of stress.

Ah, stress! The much-maligned companion of our lives! And, what do we try to do with much-maligned companions? We try to get rid of them! A very understandable human response!

And, that’s the temptation in this case. We try to retreat, to hedge our bets on one side of the bridge or the other.

The Spiritual Side of the Bridge - If you retreat to this side of the bridge, you’ll find yourself immersed in God. Not a bad thing, right? Well, seemingly not, but then you find yourself not doing anything with all that God-saturated energy. You stay buried in that blanket of spirituality, and you end up turning down opportunities to serve. It’s a place of piety. It’s also a place of fear (the fear of saying what you have to say) and, ultimately, a place of selfishness.

The Physical Side of the Bridge - If you retreat to this side of the bridge, you’ll find yourself with the perfect opportunity to be a beacon, dwelling amongst those most in need of hearing what God might have to say. And, that’s exactly what Jesus did, right? Well, the bad part is that you aren’t connected enough to God to be able to share what you need to share, and so you avoid speaking up. In the process, you get to enjoy some of those enticing earthly joys. It’s a place of indulgence. It’s also a place of fear (the fear of having something to say) and, ultimately, a place of selfishness.

Oh, but there’s another way to cop out, and it’s a technique I like to use. I like to run quickly from one side of the bridge to the other. Five minutes on the spiritual side, then five minutes on the physical side, and back again. And, by enjoying equal amounts of both extremes, they cancel each other out, right? If I move fast enough, it seems like I’m just standing still in the middle, right? Yeah, how convenient that would be. But, did you notice that retreating to EITHER side of the bridge results in fear and selfishness; it doesn’t matter which. So, playing the back-and-forth game leaves you and me with the same amount of ineffectiveness.

So, where are we supposed to be? Right in the middle…all the time. By being that bridge between the two tectonic plates, we are signing up for being in the place with the MAXIMUM amount of stress. Think about straddling the San Andreas Fault. That’s where God calls us to be - standing directly over the crevasse between Heaven and Earth.

It’s not for the fainthearted, and it’s not for the pious, and it’s not for the indulgent. And, here’s the odd (and a bit painful) irony of the situation: if you find yourself at your maximum threshold for stress, that’s perhaps an indication that you’re on the right track. As I said, not for the fainthearted…

Doubting Thomas

I didn't expect to post again tonight, but I came across this absolutely fantastic Nickel Creek song. Many Christians put up a brave front, but truthfully (at least based on those I've talked to), faith isn't always as strong as we'd like it to be. Frequently, it's because we try to grasp spirituality from an intellectual perspective (a plug for my other post of the day...feel free to read it below this post). And, this song perfectly captures those moments of questioning.

Enjoy the words...and go listen at www.myspace.com/nickelcreek.

"Doubting Thomas"

What will be left when I've drawn my last breath
Besides the folks I've met and the folks who've known me
Will I discover a soul-saving love
Or just the dirt above and below me

I'm a doubting Thomas
I took a promise
But I do not feel safe
Oh me of little faith

Sometimes I pray for a slap in the face
Then I beg to be spared cause I'm a coward
If there's a master of death
I bet he's holding his breath
As I show the blind and tell the deaf about his power

I'm a doubting Thomas
I can't keep my promises
Cause I don't know what's safe
Oh me of little faith

Can I be used to help others find truth
When I'm scared I'll find proof that it's a lie
Can I be led down a trail dropping bread crumbs
That prove I'm not ready to die

Please give me time to decipher the signs
Please forgive me for time that I've wasted

I'm a doubting Thomas
I'll take your promise
Though I know nothin's safe
Oh me of little faith

Not a Thinking Man's Game

Some excerpts from a Tozer sermon I read today. They're good enough on their own...

"The realm of the Spirit is closed to the intellect."

"Look at this passage. 'For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord, for as the heavens are higher than the earth so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.' (Isaiah 55:8)".

"Now that is the problem with the church in our day. We forget that there is something you cannot get a hold of with your head. We run around with our heads always trying to lay hold of things with our minds. Now the mind is good. God put it there. He gave you a head and He did not give it to you so your glasses could be on it, or your hat. He gave it to you and He put brains in your head; and the organ we call the intellect has a work to do, but that work is not comprehending divine things. That is of the Holy Spirit."

''But we imagine we can handle it by the flesh and so we try to handle it by the flesh, and the Lord lets us do it."

"If you are reasoned into Christianity, some wise fellow can reason you out of it."

Senseless Chatter, For Sure

I'm pretty sure that most Christians want to commune with God; I know I sure do. But, I'm not very good at encouraging intimacy. This notion popped into my head (again) when I started considering how my conversations with God go.

Think about it...well, wait. First, think about the person to which you're closest. Think about the conversations you have with that person. Think about the time you spend with that person. What are the characteristics of those moments?

For me, there's a great amount of ease. I can be upfront and honest. Conversations can get intense, but there's always an underlying groundedness, hinting at the aforementioned ease. At the same time, words aren't always a necessity. I don't harbor concern when there's silence. All in all, it's just a setting of comfortability.

By contrast, how I approach conversations with God is completely different. I'm usually okay with honesty, since it's hard to deny the fact that God always knows what's really going on. ;) However, I don't take a comfortable tone. My tone can sometimes be frantic, such as when I'm pleading with God for some specific outcome to a situation...similar to a defendent pleading with a judge. Other times, it's just rote...similar to an adolescent that is forced to converse with his parents over dinner. But, it always oscillates between one extreme and another...both attributed to an improper state of mind on my part.

And, in both cases I overdose on words. In the rote case, I barrel on through the words so I can rapidly reach the finish line and be done with the chore. In the frantic case, I'll emotionally repeat my requests over and over, as if God doesn't hear them the first time. I try to convince myself that God may honor my "fervor," but it's such a ploy for me to internally feel like I've done a thorough job of carrying my woes to God. After all, if I do my part, I can't be blamed for a less than optimal outcome, right? Ugh.

There's much improvement to be had in the way I approach God.

A Close Companion That I Barely Know

Apart from basic tenets of Christianity, I think of myself as an open-minded Christian. I like hearing diverse viewpoints from within the Christian community, because I find that so much of the "infrastructure," for lack of a better term, within churches is based solely on social norms or pre-existing conventions. It seems beneficial to see how other Christians may see things differently.

However, because of that search for new perspectives, I sometimes miss out on perspectives that are more traditionalistic. I try to convince myself that I got enough "old school" evangelicalism while growing up, but the truth is that real Christian wisdom is real Christian wisdom, no matter whether it's categorized as "progressive" or "fundamentalistic" or whatever.

So, all of that was a preface for the collection of sermons I'm reading by Dr. A.W. Tozer. Dr. Tozer was a very direct preacher, as can be clearly seen from his sermons. He doesn't speak from some sort of nouveau vantage point; he's just a hard-hitting source of Biblical truth. He lived in the early- to mid-20th century, but his words really do resonate powerfully today. This collection of sermons is on the Holy Spirit, and Dr. Tozer makes a very compelling argument that the Church's neglect of the Holy Spirit (which in turn limits God's presence within the Church) is the greatest shortcoming of the modern-day church.

In the sermons, the first thing that hit me hard was what the Holy Spirit is not. Here's a quote:

"The Holy Spirit is not enthusiasm. Some people get enthusiasm and imagine it is the Holy Spirit. They become worked up over a song thinking it is Spirit-anointed worship. And they imagine that is the Spirit. Enthusiasm is not the Holy Spirit, because those same people go out and live just like the world. The Holy Spirit never enters a man and then lets him live like the world. You can be sure of that."

You know, when I get those warm & fuzzy feelings when something spiritually exciting happens, I mentally categorize that as the Holy Spirit moving. However, Tozer's quote points out that that's not the case, which makes sense. The Holy Spirit would not be a fleeting presence (as those warm & fuzzies are very temporary); why would the Holy Spirit be so fickle? Sure, those fun emotions might be used by God as encouragement, but it's not proof of the indwelling of the Holy Spirit.

(Sidebar: Let's not get confused about the Holy Spirit vs. Salvation. Being a Believer does not equate with the Holy Spirit filling your body; after all, the apostles' belief happened clearly before the coming down of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost.)

So, to sum it all up, I was thinking that one thing was "the Holy Spirit," when actually something (someone) else is "the Holy Spirit"...a being with real sustenance and real power...so much power that I must release control, and I'm talking really release control, not simply use God as an advisor in my own decision-making. Tozer's latter sermons really hit on that point. And, I'll be honest; that's a scary prospect.

I really don't want to not be in control; I don't even know if I know how not to be in control. And, I certainly don't mean to presume, but a lot of y'all that read my blog are fairly put-together folks as well. I would guess that many of you don't know how not to be in control either.

How much of your life was orchestrated because of things you came up with on your own (even if you feel that God wouldn't necessarily object)? How much of mine? Too much.

And I wonder why it's sometimes hard to feel God's presence.