Love Can Cause Pain

Growing up, one of the main methods of discipline my parents practiced was spanking. Every time I got my backside warmed, I would get angry at whichever parent just doled out that punishment. I didn’t really think about why that was until yesterday in the Prayer Room. I was thinking about how I just hate getting in trouble, but if someone is in trouble with me, they’ll know at the very least. I was struck by the hypocrisy of it all. I am so quick to come down on someone under me if they don’t follow my instruction, but when it happens to me, I am hurt and offended. That’s when another thing struck me. I never made any connection between causing pain and love; I’ve always thought of them as two separate things. When my parents spanked me, I took it as a sign they didn’t love me. When friends would point out a fault (out of love of course), I trusted them less. On the outside, I may have seemed to understand and all that, but inside I would be feeling betrayed and feel awkward around them until they did/said something positive to me. Of course God was no different.

I don’t believe that every negative thing is God punishing us for sin or whatever (but it happens); rather, I believe that God allows negative things to happen to cause us to lean on Him, to learn life skills, and/or show us a different aspect of His personality. While I’ve always said that I believe that everything God does He does out of love, there’s always been a feeling that that is not the case. I suppose that could have come from my parents becoming enraged before the switch ever came out, and children base their view of God on their parents (specifically their father). So if I base my perception of God on my perception of my parents, I see a God who is quick to anger, one with speedy and harsh consequences for breaking His rules, and otherwise isn’t like He says He is. My parents (well, my mom at least, I can’t recall my dad ever doing this) would tell me that they love me after a spanking, and hold me for a bit while I cried. Somehow, that didn’t really connect it my mind.

God does discipline those He loves, and is slow to anger. This true. I just have to believe it, and renew my mind (probably on a daily basis) to remove the lies the enemy loves to plant about God and who He is.

Context. It’s Important.

In John 17, Jesus prays for us and all those who believe(d) in Him. Usually, I’m not a fan of preaching prayers, where the person praying gives a sermon on a topic mid-prayer, but in this case, I’m totally okay with it. It’s Jesus, He can pray what He wants, no complaints from me. The third sentence of the prayer is interesting:

I glorified you on earth, having accomplished the work that you gave me to do.
John 17:4

What makes this interesting to me is that He hasn’t gone to the cross yet, this prayer was given at the Last Supper. It’s assumed by commentators, and I believe they’re correct, that the plans of His death were already in motion (at the beginning of the sermon that precedes the prayer, it’s revealed that Judas had already gotten the idea to betray Jesus), and so He was including it in the “work you gave me to do”. Is this verse saying that all that Jesus did up to His death was Him glorifying the Father, but nothing afterward? I don’t think so. If you look at what all He said at the Supper before the prayer, He hit many different subjects. He:

• Showed His humility and servant-leadership (John 13:5-20)
• Gave the love commandment (John 13:34)
• Tells them He’s leaving to prepare a place for them, and promises the Holy Spirit (John 14:1-31)
• Tells them He’s coming back (John 14:18)
• Directs them to abide in love and how to do that (John 15:1-17)
• Prepares them for the coming persecution (John 15:18-16:11)
• Prepares them for His death, and hints at His resurrection. (John 16:20-33)

With all that being said, it seems that John 17:4 is more like, “Okay Father, I told them all about it and there’s no turning back now. You might as well say I’ve done it all already!”

When I started writing this post, I hadn’t really looked closely at that line, which brings me to another point. In actually considering and pondering the line, I actually went back and read the monologue leading up to it. It happens all the time; I’ll read something in the Bible, think it’s confusing, and simply move on. That rarely pays off (and by rarely I mean practically never). What does pay off is taking a minute, and searching the verses around it. Most of the time it’s more than a minute, and sometimes I’m still confused afterward, but in my searching, I usually come across something pretty cool anyway, so it all works out in the end.

The Greatest Paradox

All my life I’ve been taught the doctrine of the Trinity, and I’ve heard many teachers and preachers attempt to explain how it works, but there’s a problem. I still don’t get it. The other day I was leading a meditation team with some coworkers, and I decided that we should meditate on John 1:1:

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. (ESV)

When I say meditate, I mean writing a verse from the Bible on a sheet of paper, sitting in the place of prayer (for me, it’s the Prayer Room), talking to God about that verse, and writing down whatever comes to mind, checking it against the Bible later. Anyway, when we came back together after half an hour to discuss what we felt God had told us about that verse, we found that we all had  boggled minds. My thoughts were something like this:

“In the beginning was the Word…”
It seems that John is reaching back to Genesis 1, making his Jewish readers a little curious as to where he’s going. Yes, in the beginning, God created the heavens and the Earth by speaking them into existence. Both Jews and believers in Jesus agree on that.

“…and the Word was with God…”
This is probably where most of his readers start arguing. Is he saying that the Word is separate from God? Is He implying that God is not one being?

“…and the Word was God.”
Wait a minute, didn’t you just say it was separate? John, you aren’t making any sense! How can something be with God and be God simultaneously? By now, at least some of his Jewish readers have figured out exactly where he’s going.  But not all. In my amateur opinion, many would continue reading, trying to figure out what the old apostle is talking about. Throughout the Gospel, they would run into John pointing to Christ’s deity again and again, starting later in John 1.

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us…John bore witness about him…”Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” (ESV)

In my mind, John is an old man, having experienced a full life with Jesus; Jesus in the flesh, Jesus transfigured, Jesus after resurrection, and Jesus ascended. John could’ve written a lengthy introduction explaining the deity of Jesus and how it all works, but he chose instead to make it a simple and concise as he could. It’s like he knew that his readers would be intrigued and a maybe a little offended, but he chose to keep it that way, letting the life of Christ explain it all.

So I guess where all this is going is something like this. The life of Christ does much to explain the Trinity. Somehow. I’ve really just realized this in the midst of writing this, so I don’t know how it all works. What I do know is this: God is God, Jesus is God, the Holy Spirit is God, but they are all separate as well. I’ve heard it explained like this, water can be in different forms: ice, steam, and liquid; likewise, God is a being, human, and spirit. But I don’t know how much I like that analogy. In fact, I think the doctrine of the Trinity is the greatest paradox, so I’m pretty certain that any analogy will fall short. And I’m pretty certain I’ll be wondering how it all works for billions upon billions of years in the afterlife. This is only the beginning.

I’m not going Catholic, but…

The heavy wooden door eases open, closing soundlessly behind me. The basilica is still empty, and so I hoped it would be. It’s 5:40 a.m., and I need to have some conversation. I bow toward the crucifix, my hand moves across my torso and head in the sign of the cross. Or what I hope is the sign of the cross. You see, I’m not actually Catholic, I’m as Protestant as they come, but my policy is: when in Rome, do as the Romans. There is a certain peace that comes with the tradition, the reverence. It makes me think of the holiness of Him who I call God. Quiet and solemn as it is, I feel a passion burning in the midst of it; it’s worship to a level that’s new to me. Simply put, worship at my home church celebrates the personal relationship between God and us, but worship here celebrates God’s authority over us. Both are real, and absolutely legitimate.

You see, I grew up thinking Protestants, specifically Non-Denominational Charismatics, had the truth, and every other denomination had  maybe some of the truth, but certainly not all of it. When I moved from my small hometown to a large city after high school, and began working at the interdenominational prayer ministry that I currently work for, my mindset began to change. No church is perfect, but I don’t subscribe to the notion that most have fallen away from the truth anymore.

The one denomination I didn’t trust was the Roman Catholic Church. I thought all Catholics worship Mary and the Saints, believed the Pope to be completely infallible, and acted like Kennedys (with no apparent morals besides going to Mass). But then I had a roommate that is Catholic. I won’t go in to all I learned from him, but basically, he completely shattered all my preconceptions of the RCC. Fast forward two years, and I’m in a different house with different roommates. One of my roommates piqued my interest by telling me he was planning a trip to a monastery for the weekend. I couldn’t go that time, but said that I would like to join him next time. The next time happened several months later, and that is when I found myself in the basilica at 5:40 a.m. That trip (which where that first paragraph is from) was about six months ago, and I still talk about it.

I don’t intend on converting to Catholicism, but I’ve definitely come a long way from the ignorance I once had. I still believe that Mary and the saints were mere humans and not even close to divine. I believe that asking Mary or the saints to pray on our behalf is pointless and probably idolatry, as God loves us and wants to talk to us and has never wanted us to pray to anyone else. I believe that the wafer and wine stay a wafer and wine, and that they have no mystical properties (that being said, I believe taking communion is a holy thing that should be treated with reverence). I believe the Pope does not have the last say, but I do respect him greatly.  I believe Protestants can learn much from Catholicism, and I believe Catholics can learn much from Protestants.

What I do intend to do is this: to continue to walk in the ways of God, to seek Him, and to give Him the preeminence in my life. The ways I do that have changed greatly over the years, and will probably continue to do so. Just don’t be surprised to see me in a pew looking at a crucifix every once in a while.

The Exchange Rate of Love

What does delighting oneself in someone look like? That’s the question rolling around in my head tonight. I was reading Psalm 37:4, one of those verses found on calendars, coffee mugs, and Thomas Kinkade paintings:

“Delight yourself in the LORD, and He will give you the desires of your heart.”
(ESV)

Well, you better believe my heart has desires. There are things I really, really, really want, and if there’s surefire way to get them, I’m interested. So what exactly does “delight yourself in the LORD” look like? I have ideas, but nothing too concrete just yet.

When I was first considering it, I thought about human relationships. I thought about those couples that are totally enamored with each other, and what it takes to get to that level of love. It’s time together. It’s trust and openness. It’s forgiveness and understanding. It’s love and respect. It’s discovering just who that other person is. With humans, it’s entirely possible to start to get to know someone, just find out that they actually aren’t as amazing as you imagined; we’ve all experienced that. But God isn’t imperfect. At all. He’s the most amazing, intriguing, fascinating, awe-inspiring, loving, understanding, smart, compassionate, witty, humorous, caring, and otherwise good, being there is. There is simply none like Him. If you spend time with Him, He’ll spend time with you. If you trust Him, He’ll be open with you. If you forgive, He’ll forgive. He wants relationship with us.

Now, you may have read somewhere, or thought it yourself, “Why doesn’t God just make me love Him? He’s all powerful, He could do it.” I think that while God is indeed powerful, He put in us a power over our love, generally called free will. We have no material thing to give God; He’s not moved by that. He’s moved by the giving of our love to Him. That may include giving up some material possessions, but it’s different for each of us.

Sometimes, I think that my love isn’t very much. Why would God want the love of a broken young man that has done (and still does) so much wrong. But I’m reminded of the widow that Jesus and the Disciples saw giving her all in the temple. Her all was about 2 cents, but it was her all, and Jesus said that it was honored more than the ten percent given by the wealthier. God’s exchange rate is is way more unbalanced then of that between the Euro and the Iranian Rial (about 1 to 16,000, by the way). Our little offering of love is met with a flood of love from Him in various ways. Sometimes He simply speaks of his love to our hearts. Sometimes it’s physical things. Extra measures of spiritual gifts are entirely possible. He will give what you need to feel loved, and He knows you better than you do, so it might not be what you were thinking you need.

He has such love for us, and all we need is to give Him our love. If only it weren’t so terrifying.

I Have No Grid

Often I’ll hear someone say that God is the perfect Father, and I believe that most of the time. But I still question His love sometimes. Okay, most times. It’s mostly when I try to think of how He loves me when I get lost. The other day, I was in a meditation group with some coworkers, and we were meditating on John 15:9:

“As the Father has loved Me, so I have loved you. Abide in My love.”
(ESV)

Meditation that day looked like writing out the verse in a notebook, and sitting in the Prayer Room (which has worship & prayer going 24/7) for half an hour writing whatever we felt the Holy Spirit was telling us about the verse. And that’s precisely what I did.

I sat there with my leather-bound journal, staring at the verse written across the top. A question popped up within me. “Father, how do you love Jesus?” Then I felt a response. “More than anyone ever can. Beyond anyone or anything.” I thought about how in the verse, Jesus says He loves us just like the Father loves Him. And then this bomb dropped in my spirit, “To encounter the father’s heart of God is to encounter the love Jesus has for you. To abide in His love is to live as a Son of God.” I stared at that sentence, attempting to work my brain around it. I knew it was true, but what exactly it looked like applied practically to my life, I had not a clue. I still really don’t have all that much understanding about it, but I think I’ve made at least a little progress.

When I think about how Jesus showed love, I think of His death, because that’s what’s taught in Sunday School: Jesus loved us so much, He died for you and I. And it’s absolutely correct, but Jesus lived His earthly life was lived in love toward us. I think of the woman accused of adultery that He spared, I think of the parables that He told to teach of God the Father and their ways. I think of the patience He had with the disciples. I think of Him healing the sick. I think of the humility He walked with. I think of Him washing the feet of His disciples. If Jesus is a perfect picture of God, then I’ve gone wrong at some point.

But I go back to another thing the Holy Spirit told me that night, “Trying to figure God out on your own isn’t it.” It being abiding in His love. Standing back and trying to figure someone out just by observation is generally a terrible way to get to know someone. A son will not actually know his father by avoiding conversation, and just watching him. Spending time in conversation, letting him teach a skill, and asking him for help is a much more effective method. If you’re like me, you didn’t really have a relationship with your father. He might have been physically present, but distant. He might not have been there at all. So I have no grid for hanging out with a father. I have no grid for an affectionate father. I have no grid for a father who loves his children intensely. To allow God to teach me about Himself takes a ton of faith for me, but I know that it’s the best thing for me. I’m still at the beginning of this journey, and I continually stumble or turn away from Him; but, that doesn’t disqualify me, somehow.

Here’s to pushing on. Here’s to trusting the perfect Father.

 

The Holy Day Off

The other day, I was thinking about rebellion and passive-aggressiveness, and the combination of the two, mostly because I had just been called out about it. I was thinking about how God dealt with rebellion in the Bible, and I could only think of a few times where  it was mentioned.

The first I thought of was in Genesis, when a guy (Koresh, I think), decided he would make a better leader for the people of Israel than Moses. If I recall correctly, he had several thousand on his side, but it doesn’t matter much because he and all that sided with him were quickly killed by God.  Then, in Acts you have Ananias & Sapphira who decided make their offering to God sound more intense than it was. God struck them dead too. All throughout the prophets, you read of the stiff necks of Israel and others, and then you read how God will either, let them go into captivity, turn away from them, let their land become like a wasteland, or straight up kill them.

One particular thing I’ve noticed that gets mentioned many times is condemnation for not keeping the Sabbath. To me, that seems like a strange thing to be so angry about, but the more I read about God’s feeling toward the Sabbath, it makes sense. God didn’t only mean for Israel to take Saturday off to relax and regain strength (I do believe that was part of it though); He intended them to take a day to fully focus on Him, and remember who He was. He knows the frailty of the human memory when it comes to who is actually in charge. He knows the power that freewill and the desire for independence wields over the hearts of men.

In defiling the Sabbath, the man is saying that he wishes to live his life the way he wants, without any guidance that doesn’t make him comfortable. It can be passively saying that one knows how to better refresh himself than God does. You could quietly be saying that you don’t trust God (which is really the basis for most all intentional sin, if you think about it).

What does keeping the Sabbath look like? I think it looks different for everyone. I think it looks like taking a day to do that which brings restoration to the soul and body. For some, that can look like doing something related to a hobby, for others it can be cleaning their house or room. Whatever one does, the person should also be reminding themselves of who God is in someway, be it musing about the attributes of God the Creator as you build a model, or asking for forgiveness of sins as you clean. My point is, it doesn’t have to look like going to church and then locking yourself in an empty room and reading the Bible all day, no matter how bored you get. It doesn’t even have to be Sunday (Romans 14). Take a day and do it. You don’t even have to refer to it as a “Sabbath”, call it a day off, whatever; it’s no sin to call it what it is to you.

As for if Jewish believers in Jesus have to observe the Sabbath on Saturday, I have no wisdom on that. I’m speaking from a non-Jewish perspective.

Despite the fact I’ve written about 500 words about it, I can’t say that I personally keep a Sabbath. Yes, I have a day off, but is it holy and refreshing to my soul? Rarely. Do I want to have an actual Sabbath? Yes. From what I know of the ways of God, that is a big first step. May God give me grace to accomplish this, week after week.

 

EDIT: I don’t want to come across as having anything close to the last word about the Sabbath or its necessity. I just feel led to start actually doing it and I was mostly talking to myself about it all. Pray about what God would have you do with what you just read.