What If God Didn't Show?

I know all the theology, so you don't need to correct it. I know God is with believers, etc., but the question the title asks is a challenge none-the-less. Let me explain . . .

I remember hearing a question once that asked, "How many ministries [in a given church] would continue to operate without a hitch if the Holy Spirit departed?" This question comes back to me now and then as a challenge. How much of my life? How many of our ministries at True Life Christian Fellowship? How much of what we do and try? How much depends on the Holy Spirit . . . and how much is simply our good intentions and our resources and would continue without a hitch if God simply didn't show up? How much is just "church" . . . and how much is actually the living God, poured out Spirit, at work in and through us?

How much of my life, and how much of our fellowship, operate dependent on God? I know ultimately we are, of course, but the point being made is one to ponder for each of us, and for each fellowship of believers. I think it is very easy to simply do things because we've always done them, or to convince ourselves it isn't God talking to us when the thought comes to do something radical or that stretches us. How much of what we are doing, saying, etc., requires God to bring it to completion?

For example, ultimately salvation is something that must happen between a believer and God. But I wonder how many people have been pressured or emotionally hyped into saying some "magic" prayer. I know, as a fire department chaplain, that many, many times when I've asked about someone's faith who has died, the answer from loved ones has been something like, "Well, they prayed a prayer when they were eight" . . . and now in their middle ages there has not been any fruit of any true interaction between them and God. (I know it isn't our place to judge the salvation of someone, but we are given discernment, and I do believe it fair to comment on what I've observed, not drawing any ultimate conclusions about a person.)

I know when I am in a place where I am really following Jesus—submitted, allowing myself to be the sail that rather than tacking against the wind of the Holy Spirit is running with it steering me at full strength—it is actually unusual for Him to not lead me into very uncomfortable places or discussions or attempts at something . . . things that take me way out of my comfort zone and absolutely require Him to bring them to completion. I also know that when I am struggling, or in a rut, or hurt and withdrawing, I find it too easy to "turn off" the dial to His still, quiet whisper and to remain in my "safe" shell.

One of the first acts of Jesus recorded in Mark 1:21–28 is His casting out of a demon in a synagogue. I have a penciled in note next to that account that causes me to pause each time I read it. It says, basically, "The demon was comfortable in church until Jesus showed up!" Wow. May my life, and my fellowship, never be so devoid of the Spirit's anointing and power that a demon is quite OK around me. May I never quench the Holy Spirit.

A passage that is a strong warning to me is in Acts 19:11–20. Paul is casting out demons, healing the sick, etc. Then the seven sons of Sceva try the same thing, using Jesus' name like some magic word, and they get jumped on and beaten up and driven out of the house naked by one demonized man. What a strong reminder that Jesus isn't just some magic "open sesame"—He is the living God and when I am submitted to His authority I then walk in the authority He has delegated to me. Demons aren't afraid of me . . . they obey the authority and name of Jesus when Jesus has given it to me to use, and I am under His authority.

May my life, and the fellowship I pastor, live in a place where we are operating completely dependent on the Holy Spirit's anointing. If we aren't, if we only stay in the realm of what we are comfortable doing on our own (comfortable, because we know WE can do it so we don't have to live in a place of faith, knowing that if He doesn't finish it then it won't happen), then we will not experience the edge of what He is doing. Of course "church" will be really comfortable then . . . but is that what any of us really want?

I know for me, I have to repeatedly ask about different ministries, events, youth group activities, etc., if God still wants us doing something. It is very comfortable to do something you've done over and over, and if we aren't careful we can assume God wants us to do something just because He has in the past. I don't think it is a mistake, however, that the Old Testament records God delivering His people in almost every instance in a different way—each time they had to hear from Him His plan for that specific moment. In the New Testament we see Jesus healing people, and in instance after instance He does it one way one time, then another way another time.

If we get to that place where we just kind of do what we've always done, we stop listening for the whisper that says, "This time, spit in the mud and wipe it in the eyes . . ." This doesn't mean He won't guide us to do something the same way we have before, but how affirming and faith building to have heard His fresh voice on that and to know we are living/acting in the freshness of His life and power and leading, and not simply in some comfortable religious tradition. He is life, He is breath, He is living water. The Holy Spirit is living water, fire, a wind. These are words of life, of movement, of dynamic relationship. And asking and living in dependence keeps us in relationship and not just in some religious "mode."

It is not comfortable to live in complete dependence on God, but the alternative . . . to live so comfortable in doing it like you've always done it, because you've always done it, runs the risk of living within your self and your means . . . and I don't ever want to do it. I do it too many times. It is safe . . . but I don't want safe—not really—I want to see miracles, I want to see His power poured out, I want to see addictions broken, marriages restored, fathers and prodigals returned, bodies healed, depression crushed, demons fleeing in terror, the lost saved . . . and I can't do any of those things. Only He can.

From Milk to Solid Food

The more I read the Old Testament through the lens of Christmas and the Cross (meaning it all pointed to, and aimed at, and passed through the life and ministry and death and resurrection of Christ) the more I am rocked by the foreshadows and physical pictures it contains of spiritual truths and realities to come after the cross, in the New Covenant. Like an hourglass turned on its side, all the sand (events, pictures, signs, hopes) of time before the life and death of Jesus on earth pointed to, and narrowed to, and passed through that narrow neck of the hourglass of time from His birth to death and resurrection. Likewise, on the other side (our side) of those events, all of the sand that spreads out from the neck passed through, and finds its origin and source and meaning in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ.

It is a fascinating reality—everything before that first Christmas (and ultimately the cross and empty tomb) looked to those moments, foreshadowed those moments, and awaited those moments. And everything after those moments—the spreading church, our position as believers, the power and authority we walk in, and our purpose and mission in life—find their origin and source by looking back to those moments. That first Christmas, leading to the death and resurrection, truly was, as Paul said twice, "the fullness of time" . . . the moment all history prior looked and pointed to and awaited, and the moment all history since finds its explanation, purpose, and origin in.

With that said, I am most of the way through Leviticus in my reading through the Bible, and I am struck by an interesting idea I'd love your thoughts on. We have, in Genesis and Exodus, a people in slavery and bondage in Egypt, as well as a line of redemption chosen and being prepared (Abraham's line). Then we have, in Moses, a man coming in, confronting the powers of darkness, defeating them, and setting the people free from bondage and slavery. Then, in the wilderness, before coming to the land they are to occupy, the people are given the Law and taught how to worship God and how to live. Ahead, they will be brought to the land they are expected to conquer—a calling most will turn from and remain in the wilderness, provided for, with God present, but in no victory and no threat to the enemy who occupies the land. Later a new generation will, in faith, take up the mantle and cross the Jordan and see the strongholds of the enemy fall and capture the land.

I was struck, reflecting on this, that it is quite a picture of the New Testament call. We are in darkness, bondage, slavery. Jesus comes in, confronts the darkness, and the power of God sets us free from that (we are born again, saved). We then, as infants in Christ, are taught God's heart, how to worship Him, how to live as His free people, how to be His people who are set apart from the rest. But then we are called to move past that, to a maturity if you will. We are called to confront the giants, to stand and step out in faith on God's character and promises, and to see the strongholds of the enemy toppled and to occupy the land (to be His hands and feet, His body, and to go in His authority). We are not supposed to remain wandering infants, happy and content in remaining provided for and knowing God is real and there, but not moving in any threat to the enemy or seeing the enemy knocked back or strongholds demolished. At some point we are to be God's people who in faith, and with His leading, start to go against the enemy who is holding families and marriages in bondage, people in addiction, people lost and blinded to the Gospel, etc. It is our calling, I believe, I had just not seen the Old Testament parallel or picture of it in that way before.

I'd love your thoughts. I hope that this has been a wonderful week for you and that it will be an amazing weekend in His presence. Thanks for being a part of my life.   —Erick

Scripture or Experience?

In Luke, Chapter 10, Jesus sends out the disciples ahead of Him, telling them to go into the homes and villages, heal the sick, and proclaim the nearness of the Kingdom of God. Then, Luke 10:17-20 tells us: The seventy-two returned with joy, saying, "Lord, even the demons are subject to us in your name!" And he [Jesus] said to them, "I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven. Behold, I have given you authority to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy, and nothing shall hurt you. Nevertheless, do not rejoice in this, that the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven."

Why were these guys so excited? I think it is because they had never done that before! I can't visualize them returning with joy and proclaiming what they did so exuberantly if that had been the routine practice of their life for the last decade or two. Deliverance, authority over demons, and healing were a new experience to them, and they were stoked at it!

I bring this point up for a reason. I am fully convinced that deliverance, healing, authority over darkness, and the exercise of spiritual gifts are supposed to be a "normal" part of a believer's life. I believe that Scripture—when studied without a preconception or bias—makes this almost irrefutably clear. However, when we examine many of the arguments for the cessation of the gifts, or for them only being for the Apostles, we find the heart of the argument ending up being a lack of experience in/with these things (personally, and even in their denominational tradition). Hence, experience (or in this case, lack of experience) becomes the true, core argument, rather than Scripture.

Jack Deere, in his book Surprised by the Power of the Spirit, writes extensively about this as a man who was raised and schooled (Dallas Theological Seminary) in the belief the gifts of the Spirit ended, but who, after conversations and experiences that led him to reexamine the issue from a non-biased perspective, came to the conclusion that the miraculous is absolutely for us today. He writes, from personal experience and from study and observation, on pg. 55, "There is one basic reason why Bible-believing Christians do not believe in the miraculous gifts of the Spirit today. It is simply this: they have not seen them. Their tradition, of course, supports their lack of belief, but their tradition would have no chance of success if it were not coupled with their lack of experience of the miraculous." (In his context, "tradition" is teaching and upbringing people have been a part of.)

While it is a natural temptation, I think that we have to be very careful not to water down our expectations to match (or self justify) our experience (or lack of it). Rather, our expectations, to be Biblical, should be rooted in Scripture's promises and testimony, and not in our experience. We should have great expectations because we have a great God, and He has given us great promises as we walk in His authority and carry forth His Kingdom battle against darkness.

When I allow myself to water down Scripture's descriptions (hence my expectations) to match my experience (or lack of experience) I am giving the devil more credit than God. I need to, rather, elevate my expectations and goals to Scripture, and contend until I see the breakthrough to that level. It is a war. It won't go unopposed. But, I give the enemy all the good weapons when I allow Scripture to be watered down to something less than it is. Experience can validate the lofty call of Scripture, but lack of experience should never water down the lofty call of Scripture.

If the disciples had allowed their prior experience to define their expectations and efforts when they went out they would not have had room for what they experienced, or they might not of even tried it. They certainly would have had no faith for it, and we know that faith plays a powerful role in bringing God's Word to pass. Instead, the disciples took Jesus at His Word and went out and did what He said to do. As a result they came back stoked—fired up—joyful—pumped—at what they experienced . . . likely, for the first time! They were so fired up that Jesus had to remind them, "Hey, seeing people healed and demons tucking in their tail and running is great, but that is basic stuff. Never forget the true source of joy, which is the greatest miracle—your restored, eternal relationship with your Father in Heaven."

What, in Scripture, do you know at your most childlike faith to be true, but you have become jaded toward believing because you have not yet experienced it? Healing? Deliverance? Joy? Freedom? The promises of what faith can do? Spiritual authority? The promises of great freedom from sin?

Be careful—very careful—to not allow a lack of experience with a promise's fruit to cause you to water down, and let go of, a lofty and childlike belief in a promise's truth. I encourage you with all of my heart (with an encouragement I need someone to tell me so badly myself too many times)—contend for the promise's truth in your life—don't water down the promise from a place of hurt and pain and discouragement.