The Thunderstorm and the Sleepless Night

Sleep will evade me tonight; as the thunderous sounds of the storm startle me awake, only moments after I have fallen asleep. 

So now I sit here, fearful of starting another week. Every avenue through which I have sought relief from these realities has been fleeting. Every way in which I have sought to alleviate that which overwhelms me, I have become the toaster at my own wake. Every tree under which I have sat for shade, you oh God, have caused to wither and die. I am like a wolf pup that you have forced on its back. Gnawing and clawing at your hands I struggle for freedom, yet you persist in my submission. My will is not easily broken, and I have fought you for years.

Tonight oh God, I raise a white flag. Yet even as I write these words I know that my heart remains far from you. What good are my words should I forsake all of my desires, rendering myself defenseless in times of great trial and doubt, while knowing that I will only fall to the whims of the flesh which beckons me in such time? How I long to be rid of all distractions… my television, my laptop, my cell phone; things which amuse me and keep me from thinking about harsh realities such as destruction, imminent death and decay, loneliness, hostility. I could live without these distractions, yet even as I write these words I know full well that I cannot. 

If I might only catch a glimpse of your purposes; if I may only catch a glimpse of your intention, your hopes for your sons and daughters, your ambitions for all that you have created, than I might live in accordance with those purposes. Perhaps I could be delivered from the absurdities of excess and the vanity of life. Perhaps I could be delivered from myself, my own narcissistic egocentrisms which enslave me to myself. 

When therefore, I cross myself, I will remember that I have been crucified with Christ, and have now crucified the flesh with all of its passions and desires. The life I will then live will not be unto myself oh God, but unto you.

Father, may it ever be so… may you forgive me for you have blessed me abundantly yet my existence is self serving. It would be easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for me to forsake my earthly riches. May you show me the cost of my worldly choice… gently.  

A Dialogue with Thomas A' Kempis: Journal 2/21/2011

I find an answer to the question I have recently posed. That question is: Is intellectual ascent necessary for salvation, or even sanctification? That is, is it because I can understand certain concepts that I am now acceptable and pleasing to God? Is my sanctification contingent upon my continued acquiring of knowledge?

A’ Kempis resolves this issue for me but while resolving one issue he creates an even bigger one. For he says: “What avail is it to a man to reason about the high, secret mysteries of the Trinity if he lack humility and so displeases the Holy Trinity? Truly, it avails nothing. Deeply inquisitive reasoning does not make a man holy or righteous, but a good life makes him beloved by God. I would rather feel compunction of heart for my sins than merely know the definition of compunction.”

A’ Kempis gives credence to my dilemma, but beams a bright light into a very dark corner of my being. Perhaps it is not fair to call it a corner, but rather the totality of the condition of my soul. So, in my academic ambitions, I find that it is only for worldly accolades that I labor toward higher learning, and of this higher learning I will only be more severely judged for the knowledge I have acquired yet have never implemented (“ The more knowledge you have, the more grievously will you be judged for its misuse, if you do not live according to it.” p. 5).

Even as I read on, A’ Kempis throws my soul into a tantrum, because he is demanding of his readers the self sacrifice that I believe is so often fashionably spoken of in churches, yet is scorned in its application. I know this because I know that it is true of me. There are some things that I have given up as sins that were obvious, and which most Christian authority rallies against to hold individuals accountable. As for a lifestyle of sacrifice, I do not desire what it truly mandates.

 I measure everything in terms of profit, though I do this unknowingly, it is all the same. Every job I have taken has not been weighed in terms of the service that I could provide, but rather the honor that would be bestowed upon me for that service. Every friend I make or currently have is seen only in light of what that relationship can provide in terms of affirmation, confirmation, comfort, enjoyment, and further learning.  Every good deed is robbed of sacrifice and nobility: “Oh, where may any be found who will serve God freely and purely, without looking for some reward in return? And where may any be found so spiritual that he is clearly delivered and freed from love of himself, truly poor in spirit, and wholly separated from love of creatures?"

 I am but a man clothed in an honorary religious cloak, yet underneath I am just as self centered as the world I presume to rebuke. 

I feel a great tension as I want to reply to A’ Kempis’ words with a “but”, yet I hear the words of a man who says “This is a book that will feed your soul. It will feed your soul if you are willing to listen…” In listening I feel both liberated and bound. I have long desired to die to myself. I have long desired to be dead to the passions and desires and quests for affirmation. I have long desired to mortify the will which may be “free” but will conform to the desires of the flesh at the faintest whispers of its calling.All of this A' Kempis has called his readers into conformity, and all of this in one sense finds reception in my heart. 

But the tension is this: I must ask of A’ Kempis, why is it that you despise so much that which God has created, and I may make the argument, has created for our pleasure? Why is it that you deny and deprive yourself from the comfort that can be yours when you seek to nurture your soul rather than forsake it, and others?  You say: “If you seek your Lord Jesus in all things you will truly find Him, but if you seek yourself you will find yourself, and that will be to your own great loss (54).” I understand what you are saying here. Much of what I know of myself is but loss, but Christ is not outside of me (at least I do not believe him to be). It has been the journey inward, seeking to understand the depths by which I was created and the pains that have in turn created my undesired external faculties, that I have found more of Christ and less of myself.

My problem A’kempis, is not a lack of self hatred, for if self hatred is the measure of discipleship, than I would be hard pressed to find fault in my pursuit of Christ (though you have not used such terms, I hear it in your words). It is the despising of myself that has caused me to seek relief, and this relief is the weaknesses of the flesh alleviated by sin.

 It has been in introspection that I have found the depths of Christ’s affection for me, and in that moment I have freedom from the hatred that does not allow for self denial, which you have challenged of your reader. 

Is there then any reason for me to assume that preservation from sin then, is solely an act of Christ’s benevolence? We are then in agreement that this cannot be the case, for if this is so than it is Christ who has failed when I surrender to the whims of the flesh. So then “What a man is inwardly in his conscience, that he shows himself to be by his outward deportment. If there is any true joy in this world, a man of clean conscience has it; if there is tribulation or anguish anywhere, an evil conscience knows it best (50).”

 It is then my deeds which have brought about the grievances and heaviness of heart and conscience that I now feel. If my conscience is consumed because it has grieved Christ, than outwardly it will show itself to be so. If then I am to have peace with Christ, I must cleanse my conscience, and in order to cleanse my conscience I must then abstain from that which displeases my Lord. But I must not simply abstain, but also adhere to that which has been asked of me as one follows after Him. That which has been asked of me is to deny myself and take up my cross. For this gift A' Kempis, I am thankful to you.

“Jesus has many lovers of His kingdom of heaven, but He has few bearers of his Cross. Many desire His consolation, but few desire His tribulation. He finds many comrades in eating and drinking, but He finds few who will be with Him in His abstinence and fasting. All men would joy with Christ, but few will suffer anything for Christ…(60)”

Why Most Christians Would Prefer the Koran over the Bible.

This video would make most of us uncomfortable. For me, it only confirmed many of the things that I have been thinking about lately. I was taught to think in terms of great blanket statements like “inerrant” and “infallible” when it came to the bible. I was to listen for these concepts while discussing issues with other people, and when I caught the scent that someone had a weak view of scripture, my predatory senses were aroused to attack mode. We were taught that the bible didn’t contradict itself, and we were taught pithy explanations for the “supposed” contradictions in the narratival discrepancies, but we were never taught to take a closer look at these discrepancy, which would have honored a great deal more the bible that we were attempting to hold in high esteem all the while willfully ignoring the parts that make us uncomfortable.

It is at this point that I would suggest that most Evangelical Christians, if we follow our logic and then can be honest with ourselves, would prefer the Koran over the Bible.

The Koran is a “book from heaven.” It is at every point the “very words of God.” The words later written down by “God’s profit, Muhammad” do not sound like Muhammad. In fact, Muhammad was illiterate, thus verifying that it was in fact a message from God. The Koran does not “contradict itself.”

These are the same terms we use to describe our bibles. We would like to think that our Holy book is a book that descended to us from heaven. Because it is the very words of God, we must seek to protect Gods character by saying that it is infallible or inerrant. What we say is that, having more than 30 authors, spanning centuries of time and various cultures, our book was assembled together without contradiction. I am afraid this does a great disservice to our Bible.

 As B.B. Warfield pointed out (which almost cost him his career at the time), the bible is at every point the word of God, and the word of man. Have you ever noticed that it is difficult to distinguish in the book of Jeremiah who is talking at times? Jeremiah sounds like the Lord, and the Lord sounds like Jeremiah. The same is true for many of the other prophets. We must at every point acknowledge the humanity of our bibles.

Some of the early church fathers were not happy with having four gospels. It made them uncomfortable, because they could clearly see the distinctions between them. They wanted to harmonize the gospels into one account. While there are clear discrepancies at times, there is a clear coherence to the accounts. If we truly paid attention to this, if we truly gave it some study without being committed to a predetermined outcome, we would have to be honest about this fact. When we see the distinctions, we gain insight however into the authors understanding of their Lord. Have we become so insecure in our faith that we must engage the modern world using its criteria on its terms, rather than reading the scriptures that point to the Lord we love and serve on terms of its own?

I love the Bible, but I am seeking to point out that our understanding of it has been one of the greatest battle grounds which has divided us (and this is a relatively new development, at least in its present form among American evangelicals). We speak in absolute terms to preserve us from having to do any serious thinking or scholarship. We just adhere to the broad categories so that we can, in some oppressive authoritative fashion, point out who is woefully ignorant and who is towing the line. This adherence does the opposite of our intent, it renders us woefully ignorant and causes us to dishonor that which we seek to glorify.

Disinherited

Many a young pastor/church leader begins their vocation with strong convictions and good intentions. Shortly after beginning their training or ministry they are absorbed into that which they have sought to correct. We attend institutions that supply us with their legacy, and inherit battles that we did not know were in existence, and forms which we could see were ineffective yet we had not the voice to articulate why.

The solution to the dilemma is seemingly impossible for those who have been fully absorbed into the statues quo. But if we can take a step back and look at the absurdity of our practices a change may not be impossible.
Some examples: 

• We often say that the church consists of people not buildings: yet we spend 10's and 100's of thousands, even millions of dollars to try and keep our buildings from becoming dilapidated.

While I love aesthetics as much if not more than most people, if a building is costing thousands of dollars just to keep open for use one day a week, then I say tear down that building and do something useful with it. It's like one of my close friends said (I won't mention his name, I don't want him to get in any trouble), "I wish they would just tare my church down and build a parking lot. At least that way the community could have that space for something useful. At least that way they would have a spot to park their cars."

This is just a portion of the divide between what we value as Christians. It communicates to our communities that we value our Sunday morning gatherings far more than we do the community itself. This is of course not to diminish the time of worship that Christians do have, but I just have to wonder how acceptable that worship is to God when all of that money going into the collection plate gets fed right back into a building that sits empty six days a week; instead of (as my same friend mentioned earlier pointed out to me) to the poor and those in need. This just seems so bizarre to me.

Secondly:

• That which is sacred to many is the same inflexibility of the previous generation, in that we exchange one system or one way of doing things for another.

Much of what I am communicating on this blog is sacred to me. Much of what  I write and express is all very important to me. One day, a generation will come that no longer has a need for my convictions. One day, a generation will come that will not understand (nor need to understand) what it is that I, and people like me, are now communicating. When that day comes, I hope that I will be able to hear and learn from the prophetic voice of a younger generation who sees the holes in my gospel and biblical understanding.

But it's so interesting. I can already see an insistence in those who are just a bit older than I am, who have inherited the battle or the form of their traditions or institutions, who are not willing to see nor deviate from that inheritance no matter how compelling the realities are that surround them. At one time, their convictions were fresh and needed and sacred to them... it will not be long before those convictions, having been cemented in our minds, will soon become stumbling blocks and battle grounds to the subsequent generations.

We must continuously live with our eyes and ears open as to the ways in which God is communicating and interacting with his world. In so doing we grow wiser, and open our eyes instead of closing them.

I believe this is an inheritance and a legacy: to be honest, I'm not sure that I fully understand the wars that we wage with other Christians across denominational lines (I mean, I understand them historically... I just do not understand them as one who follows Christ), but somehow I learned to continue those wars as a part of my inheritance.

Perhaps the divisions were necessary for a time, but we have an opportunity to demonstrate the greatest defense for our faith... that by the love we share for one another, we show the world the love of God. In so doing we, with the help of God, could restore what has been broken for centuries and mellennia. That could be our legacy... and this is a legacy that can and should be universally applied throughout the generations.

A Prayer of our Lord, Jesus Christ:
     “My prayer is not for them alone. I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message, that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me. I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one—  I in them and you in me—so that they may be brought to complete unity. Then the world will know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me."

I Have Enemies

I have enemies. 
My biggest enemy is myself. 
My other enemies make me an enemy of myself. 
Those enemies strive to make me question, doubt, fear, and hate myself. 
When I do these things I question, doubt, fear, and hate those that are around me.

Therefore, it is not me that I hate, but rather he who hates me and desires of me to hate myself. 
I cannot destroy this enemy anymore than I could destroy myself. 
I confront the accuser: That while his accusations may have merit they matter not in that I have an advocate with the Father.


"So when the devil throws your sins in your face and declares that you deserve death and hell, tell him this: "I admit that I deserve death and hell, what of it? For I know One who suffered and made satisfaction on my behalf. His name is Jesus Christ, Son of God, and where He is there I shall be also!"
— Martin Luther

I love it when a plan comes together

I've had a lot of lofty goals recently, and most of them I was convinced would not be realized. Today, I get the impression that those ambitions are not as far off as I once thought. Those ambitions were to...

1. Go to Oxford University to get my PhD
2. Come back to Lancaster and start an ecumenical seminary whereby students who otherwise would not have the opportunity (i.e. monetary funding) to receive a good theological education could attend this school and be trained up in a fashion that would permit them to enter leadership from whatever tradition they have come.

Here's what happened today that tells me these things might soon be a reality:

1. I have recently cultivated a freindship with a man by the name of Father David. Father David spent a little bit of time studying at Cambridge, and has a slight English accent himself. I had the opportunity to share with him this vision within this small microcosm known as Lancaster city.
2. This morning, I received a hand written letter from one of my favorite authors, John H. Armstrong, which stated that he remembered me, that he was praying for me, and that he wanted me to write something for his next book. This man has had a tremendous journey which began with him being friends with the likes of John MacArthur, to being invited to the Vatican for ecumenical collaboration with Evangelicals (needless to say, MacArthur dubbed this man a wolf in sheep's clothing). J.I. Packer is strong advocate of John's. John wants to Skype with me to further discuss some of the things he and I had briefly chatted about when we met in the classroom at Biblical Seminary a few weeks ago.
3. Later in the day, I spoke with Father David once more. He said that he was so intrigued by my love of education that he spoke with several of his colleagues who were also enthused about the idea. Father David said that in two-five- or ten years, whenever I return to the area after leaving for my PhD, he would love to be a part of such an adventure. 
4. Making ties with an English Priest, in an English church, will probably prove to be most helpful in the future for Amanda and I to make our way across the pond!

It is amazing how God can work a plan together. It's amazing how one day you can be so low and discouraged and overwhelmed, and the very next day see all of your hopes and aspirations begin to be realized. I hope that God is glorified in these details, and that the fruit of this labor might be all for his fame. He has given me a great deal of strength on this day. I sat in bed this morning for 45 minutes asking him to, and he has delivered.

"I praise Thee, O God of our Fathers, I hymn Thee, I bless Thee, I give thanks unto thee for Thy great and tender mercy. To Thee I flee, O merciful and mighty God."

"I am just a worthless liar, I am just an imbecile, I will only complicate you, Trust in me and fall as well"

On my way home from work today I heard a song that always grips me by the soul and demands my attention. That song was Tool’s “Sober” (one of the coolest videos ever made!). 

This band has always meant a lot to me, but in the past five years or so they took on some deeper importance as I cultivated a friendship with a cancer laden man named Isaac. Isaac and I began our friendship when he joined the life group I was leading while at LBC. We quickly came to discover that we had similar taste in music when it came to the band Tool. 

Isaac was fascinated with them for reasons that would be obvious had you known my friend. Tool has been referred to as “the thinking man’s metal.” Their deep philosophical lyrics would grab a hold of the dark night in your soul and keep you there for the duration of your listening experience. 

The subject matter of their songs was intriguing to Isaac as well. The lead singer, Maynard Keenan, Isaac and I suspected, had lost either his wife or his mother to cancer. We also suspected that Maynard came from a religious Christian home, hence the disillusionment with the unfulfilled promises of Christendom that flavored Maynard’s lyrics. 

We would discuss the legitimacy of Keenan’s observations about our faith. We wouldn’t judge Maynard, nor would we dismiss him. I remember sitting in Isaac’s car soaking in the raw angst and grief Maynard spilled into the microphone and subsequently into our ears and hearts. In all of the “blasphemy”, in all of the calling out of the God that Isaac and I shared faith in, there was an unspoken “blessed are those that mourn” applied to Maynard’s account when we listened to his naked vulnerabilities.  

The Christ that Isaac and I shared wept with Maynard in his wounded plea, and we wept with Maynard knowing that it was more than likely that cancer would devour my friends body. 

So I found myself weeping on my way home when I sang these lyrics with Maynard:

There's a shadow just behind me
Shrouding every step I take
Making every promise empty
Pointing every finger at me

Waiting like the stalking butler
Whom upon the finger rests
Murder now the path called "must we"
Just because the Son has come

Jesus, won't you fucking whistle
Something but what's past and done?
Jesus, won't you fucking whistle
Something but what's past and done?

Why can't we not be sober?
I just want to start this over
Why can't we drink forever?
I just want to start this over

I am just a worthless liar
I am just an imbecile
I will only complicate you
Trust in me and fall as well

I will find a center in you
I will chew it up and leave
I will work to elevate you
Just enough to bring you down

Mother Mary, won't you whisper
Something but what's past and done?
Mother Mary, won't you whisper
Something but what's past and done?

Why can't we not be sober?
I just want to start this over
Why can't we sleep forever?
I just want to start this over

I am just a worthless liar
I am just an imbecile
I will only complicate you
Trust in me and fall as well
I will find a center in you
I will chew it up and leave

Trust me
Trust me
Trust me
Trust me
Trust me

Why can't we not be sober?
I just want to start this over
Why can't we sleep forever?
I just want to start this over

I want what I want
I want what I want
I want what I want
I want what I want

I don’t find myself in the place from which Maynard wrote these lyrics, but I also do not find it hard to imagine myself there. I know what it is to feel as though “the promises have been made empty.” I know what it is to feel that this Christ has “found a center in me just long enough to chew me up and leave."

Isaac and I discussed the mystery that, in a way, Maynard’s lyrics affirm our faith. I’m not quite sure if I can fully express it here but I will try:

We understood the deep grief from which he wrote. Myself coming into a relationship with Jesus from a position of hostility to all things resembling religion, especially the Christian religion; and Isaac, who dedicated his life to following Christ yet was stricken with Cancer. When Maynard wept in song, we understood his loss.

By entering into Maynard’s grief, by weeping for ourselves from which we came and to which we were going, we did not weep as those who were without hope. Though we understood what it was to desire to “sleep forever,” to close our eyes and drift into nothingness where the dark realities of this world do not exist, we knew the joy that remained in the middle of grief this world brought us. We knew this joy because we knew of the Christ who would suffer in our place, the Christ who would restore that to which we desire to fall asleep; and the Christ who would call us to partake in the traumatic joy of bringing and being the good news that the way of death and despair will soon pass away.

Legacy

“Each generation stands on the shoulders of its predecessors like acrobats in a vast human pyramid. Thus, to tell the story of those who heirs we are is to write a long preface to our own life stories.”

These words and others strike me in a way that is both profound and personal. I have in recent times longed for and sought to understand what legacy I have inherited. I believe that we have all been created and exist in and under circumstances that are oft times beyond our scope of understanding. I believe that the way I think, who I am, conclusions I draw, failures I experience, and so on have all had their foundations laid by the progression and cycle of history.

I have feared as a husband, and Lord willing someday as a father what I might be/become. I have feared in my career that success might evade me and that I would be a disappointment to my family and to myself. I have often thought about what successive generations will report about this man.

Tonight, as I prepare for my studies on church history, I realize that I have a great legacy. I am a Christian; and the testimony of those who have gone before me, however glorious or perplexing, is all a part of my legacy.

I was perplexed by Bunyan’s remarks concerning the character “Christian” at the beginning of Pilgrims Progress:

“Now, he had not run far from his own door, but his wife and children, perceiving it, began to cry after him to return; but the man put his fingers in his ears, and ran on, crying, Life! Life! Eternal life! So he looked not behind him but fled towards the middle plain.”

I understand now. The vanity of our earthly legacy is fleeting, but we are not doomed to perpetuate the absurdity of those that have gone before us. I understand my past well enough, but as Justo L. Gonzalez tells the Christian seeking to understand their new identity inherited by becoming an heir with Christ:

“Without understanding that past, we are unable to understand ourselves, for in a sense the past still lives in us and influences who we are and how we understand the Christian message.”