"Yes, but . . ."

I think a fair question to ask ourselves as Christians is, "Where does the true emphasis of our thoughts, hope, and expectancy lie?" As one person recently shared at a men's gathering I was at, "You can tell a Marine!" talking about their shaved head, huge stickers on their trucks, and the way they carry themselves. We all laughed but then he asked, "Why is it so hard to tell a Christian man who is supposed to be light and joy against a dark world?" The room got a lot more quiet.

We are supposed to be different. Not Polyanaish or naive but different. People of words of hope and joy and other-focused instead of people of grumbling and complaining and anger and bitterness and self-focus. After all, we have the Creator of the universe loving us, saving us, and living in us sealing us for an eternal relationship with Him in a home He's prepared for us free of all sickness and tears and death and sorrow.

One of the ways I have found in myself and others to see what the true emphasis of our thoughts, hopes, and expectancies is comes from looking at what comes in a sentence after the word "but." (I read something like this some time back and I can't remember where. It struck me at the time and I was reflecting on it again today. I wish I could remember the source so I could credit it, but God knows. I'll share my memory with my reflections included. I am not saying this is in any way hard and fast, but it does bear noting.) What I mean is this: do our sentences contain the structure, "God is so huge, God is so wonderful, God loves me, God is with me, but . . . " and then follow the "but" with a list of all our problems which give the problems the biggest emphasis and leave the problems as the last, trumping thought and memory and focus? Or, do our words follow a structure of, "I am struggling with this and that and facing this or that, but . . . " and then go into praises of God and His faithfulness and love and power, leaving a sense that God is truly the biggest emphasis and focus and final thought?

Maybe you've seen this in yourself or others. I know I have in me. Statements that seem to give the "proper," courtesy theological nod to God but then truly dwell on the problems and obstacles and negative possibilities versus the statements that acknowledge the problems and issues but then put their true weight and expectancy and hope and joy on a deep recognition of who God is and what He promises us. There is a big difference. As Christians we sometimes seem to feel this "obligation" to mention God and His love and control, etc., but too often are really consumed with our problems and simply giving an obligatory nod to God because we, as Christians, are "supposed" to. The weight and emphasis of our words often reveal that. But then you meet that amazing person who has problems and doesn't sugar coat them or pretend they aren't real but whose words reveal that the genuine joy and hope and power of their thoughts and life is their amazing God and His love and power and promises.

Maybe, in a slightly different way, you've experienced the person with major issues who seems to want to talk and talk about them and when you offer to pray for them they let you and are quiet long enough for you to but then, almost before you finish the "amen" they are back into all their problems and horrible expectancies, etc. It is as if they were holding their breath through the whole prayer, letting you pray because as Christians that is the thing to do, but in reality they aren't even hearing or believing in the prayer and are poised to jump in talking about themselves and the problems they face as soon as the prayer is "out of the way" and the Christian "duty" done. I am not trying to be callous in that but if you've experienced it you know what I mean—you pour your heart into praying for someone for their medical or other issues and you believe you are connecting with God and you are appealing to His awesome, star-breathing, love and power and you are barely done and it is as if you just shared the weather or sports score for all the impact your prayer had on their expectancy or attitude. I feel for these Christians, and I've been that Christian, and it is so hard to be in a place where we intellectually nod at God but our heart is overwhelmed with, and consumed by, our problems and life.

Faith has an object, and the object of Christian faith is God. Abraham, Sarah, and others are given in the Bible as examples of people in faith because they considered the One promising faithful. God is the object. God is why we are confident and hopeful and joyous. God. And that is why I think we are encouraged to "be still and know that I am God" by God. Faith as some "thing" we are supposed to have and we intellectually talk about because we feel guilty not talking about it is empty. Faith is not a "thing." It is our confidence and trust in God and His love and power and promises and Word. Our words can be a real clue to the condition of our faith. The same sentence can describe our problems and describe our God, but the placement of the word "but" can reveal a whole lot about the heart.

Snakes and Awe . . .

I hope that this finds all of you having a wonderful start to the new year. May God pour out His favor over you during it and help you to be more aware than ever of how much He loves you.

I have been reading through Exodus lately and I keep coming back, in my still time, to when Moses and Aaron confronted Pharaoh and his magicians and their rods, turned into snakes, were swallowed by the snake which Moses and Aaron's rod turned in to. I have found that with that story . . . and with most in the Bible . . . it has become far to easy for me to simply read it, be familiar with it, and move past it. But . . .

. . . stop and think about it for a minute. A stick. A piece of wood. A part of a tree. It turns in to a snake! A living, twisting, life-filled snake. And then, tapping into Satan's power, Pharaoh's magicians do the same, but God shows that His power is always superior to the enemy's when their snakes are eaten! Sometimes I really struggle in my walk when I realize how far my anxieties, fears, priorities, expectations, etc., fall short of the incredible things I claim I believe. Then Satan comes along whispering, "Do you even really believe them? Are you even truly saved?"

I do believe the Bible. I do believe it is true, cover to cover, word for word. And that is why I can be so bothered by how easily I can read it and about the events it records and . . . be unmoved, be blase. I have had to force myself to slow down and process. To actually stop and think about what it must have been like to be a spectator in that room and literally, before my eyes, watch those rods turn in to living snakes and enter into mortal combat on the ground. Or later to watch the Red Sea literally part into two walls of water. Or to watch leprosy disappear . . . or a white and blind eye slowly turn clear and a person see for the first time . . . or to see the dead come to life. Yet, I believe these have happened, and I have met people who have, in our lifetime, seen the dead come back to life and seen a formless eye transition before their eyes into a seeing eye.

I believe these things, but unless I force myself to stop, project myself into the scenes, and be still and meditate on it until if affects my heart I find I too often breeze past them in to my next "crisis" or negative expectation or fear or grumbling or gloomy state. Yet, when I can slow myself down and take my feelings captive to the reality of the basic foundations of my faith I claim I believe, I find that awe starts to follow that exercise, and the things in my life that have gotten disproportionately big start to shrink down to their proper size and perspective in relationship to my God, His love for me, and His power.

One of my biggest hopes for myself this year as I read through the Bible is that the things it records will rock my world and my expectations and my faith and my attitudes, and not just be more theological knowledge that puffs up or makes me religious in form, but not different than a non-Christian in my true and deepest attitudes and fears and outlooks.

God bless you all. Thank you for reading and sharing in my life. As always, I treasure your comments, thoughts, feedback, things God has shown you, etc. I look forward to traveling through 2012 with you and seeing what our mighty God has in store!   — Erick

Accountable for Words . . .

The whole account of Numbers 13 and 14 of the people spying out the land, and then choosing fear over faith, captivates me. Every time I read it I find more rich gems about faith, and fear, and trust in it. Today I was glancing through it and a verse I know I have read many times jumped out at me like it never has before. It is Numbers 14:36–37 and it comes right after the Lord told Moses and Aaron that all who were twenty years and older (except Joshua and Caleb) will fall in the wilderness over the forty years and not see the promised land. It says, “And the men whom Moses sent to spy out the land, who returned and made all the congregation grumble against him by bringing up a bad report about the land—the men who brought up a bad report of the land—died by plague before the Lord.”
    Wow! That really made me sit up and re-read it. What had these men done? The whole congregation would wander out their days in the wilderness because they had made the choice to not believe God, to be in fear and not faith, and to grumble and complain . . . but these men seemed to pay an extra hard price. What was their special “sin”? They brought the report that caused the people to fall in to fear.
    Now, Joshua and Caleb saw the same land they saw, and gave the same report of bounty and of the enemy . . . but the difference came after that. Of the ten spies singled out here Numbers 13:31–33 says, “Then the men who had gone up with him said, ‘We are not able to go up against the people, for they are stronger than we are.’ So they brought to the people of Israel a bad report of the land that they had spied out, saying, ‘The land, through which we have gone to spy it out, is a land that devours its inhabitants, and all the people that we saw in it are of great height. And there we saw the Nephilim (the sons of Anak, who come from the Nephilim), and we seemed to ourselves like grasshoppers, and so we seemed to them.’ ”
    What of Joshua and Caleb? What was their response that “earned” them the favor of seeing the promised land? Numbers 14:6–9 says: And Joshua . . .  and Caleb . . . tore their clothes and said to all the congregation of the people of Israel, “The land, which we passed through to spy it out, is an exceedingly good land. If the Lord delights in us, he will bring us into this land and give it to us, a land that flows with milk and honey. Only do not rebel against the Lord. And do not fear the people of the land, for they are bread for us. Their protection is removed from them, and the Lord is with us; do not fear them.” Prior to that, in Numbers 13:30, Caleb had spoken the words that caused the other ten to rebut him when he said, “Let us go up at once and occupy it, for we are well able to overcome it.”
    The result? The people chose fear and grumbling over faith, and God would go so far as to say they didn’t believe in Him! That would be a shocking statement to a people who would absolutely say they believe in God and who would see a difference between believing in Him, and believing Him (He had promised them the land) . . . it appears God doesn’t see that difference.
    So, the people would wander and perish over the years in the wilderness . . . but of those ten, the ones whose words were words of fear and not faith, the ones whose words brought out the unbelief and fear in the others, there was stiff accountability. It makes me wonder, what is our responsibility for our words around those in whose lives God has given us influence? Are our words building up their faith and drawing their eyes to their great God, or are our words causing them to be in unbelief and grumbling? Do our words and expectations give more power to God, or to the enemy? Are they words of life and hope, or fear and pessimism? This isn’t about drumming up false encouragement and denying reality . . . it is about embracing true reality, in faith, and not letting sight define it. It is about God and His Word and His promises and His power being the most powerful influence on our expectations and words, and not the world and its “wisdom” and its predictions and its circumstances. We have the God who speaks out stars that are so big they would swallow our Sun and all the planets out to near Saturn (and all the space in between those planets). He is our God! Do our words reflect it? What are they bringing out in those we influence? It is a thought worth asking the Holy Spirit about, because our words have power and they have influence and God does listen to them.

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.