Experiential Religion

Dane, thank you for posting this from John Owen. Fantastic:

“What am I the better if I can dispute that Christ is God, but have no sense of sweetness in my heart from hence that he is a God in covenant with my soul? What will it avail me to evince (reveal), by testimonies and arguments, that he hath made satisfaction for sin, if through my unbelief, the wrath of God abideth on me, and I have no experience of my own being made the righteousness of God in him–if I find not, in my standing with God, the excellency of having my sins imputed to him and his righteousness imputed to me? Will it be any advantage to me to profess and dispute that God works the conversion of a sinner by the irresistible grace of his Spirit, if I was never acquainted experimentally with the deadness and utter impotency to good, that opposition to the law of God, which is in my own soul by nature, with the efficacy of the exceeding greatness of the power of God in quickening, enlightening, and bringing forth the fruits of obedience in me?

It is the power of truth in the heart alone that will make us cleave unto it indeed in an hour of temptation. Let us, then, not think that we are anything the better for our conviction of the truths of the great doctrines of the gospel, for which we contend with these men, unless we find the power of the truths abiding in our own hearts, and have a continual experience of their necessity and excellency in our standing before God and our communion with him.”

–John Owen, Works, 12:52

Jesus Loves Me, This I’m Learning

I want to fix me and others in my life. I think I know better in regard to them for what they are supposed to do. In regard to me, I want to be fixed so I stop sinning as I hurt others and as I dishonor God. I think I am learning that being fixed is not what we are invited to. In talking with more and more older men, I am realizing that they all still struggle in many ways, they are not fixed, they are still undone. Sometimes the brokenness is the same way they have struggled for years: anger, control, lust, indifference, unbelief and so much more. They are living in the tension of brokenness, being pulled by their sin and their love of God.

I think that dependent middle is what I am realizing that I must embrace. Being dependent on him for all things, for forgiveness, for power to live and love, for conquering and hating sin, and knowing it will never be “finished” this side of heaven. There is always more, one more moment, one more opportunity, another day, another chance to repent of my sin. However, I am not a joyful repenter, most often I am an ashamed and guit-ridden repenter. I have a hard time believing that God welcomes me back after my repeated sins, or where in my experience I don’t feel that I am gaining holy ground (can you hear the perfectionist do-er in me?!).

Then again even as I write I am reminded of how much I want my daughters to repent to me, especially willingly and humbly. I know how ready I am to receive them when they do, and even when they only understand just a portion of their sin. Then I am reminded of Matthew as I look at myself, the broken, sinful dad who knows how to give good gifts to his kids, how much more does God in heaven our perfect Father desire to give us good things? Matthew 7 has been repeating in my mind over and over again these weeks.

God calls me to repeatedly offer forgiveness, 70×7 he says (Matthew 18:22). How could he ask me to do that if he was not willing to do the very same thing on my behalf and toward others with whom I interact? Is he not holy, perfect, loving and willing to forgive over and over again in relation to him?! I can therefore learn to repent quickly and readily, with joy knowing that he offers forgiveness to me instead of repenting ashamedly and with resistance thinking he might not welcome me back this time… and then, in my realtionships with others, I can offer that forgiveness and reconciliation because God has already perfectly done that for me in the person of Jesus.

Praise be to God.

Soul Care

A friend and I are working through a few books by Mindy Caliguire, materials from IVP’s SoulCare Resources. The first book, “Discovering Soul Care” is a bit of a review of the material I had at Wheaton College in my Care of Souls class with Lyle Dorsett. I miss the class and I have missed attending to these areas in my life.

Mindy’s perspective (and I think that she is right) is that all of us is alive: body, mind and soul (or spirit). Our soul is alive and needs nourishing just as our brain, muscles, and organs; they all need proper care and provision of nutrients. Just as we protect our body from the cold, or the heat, or from too much sun, we must also protect our soul from damage. As believers, one of our attentions should be on the condition of our soul. We attend to our home, our cars, our employment, our children and spouses if we have them. Likewise, we must also tend to the needs of our soul.

One of the earliest questions in this book is essentially, “What is the condition of your soul?” and soon after, “What are the symptoms of a healthy soul, or a neglected soul?” These were two good questions to help me process the sinful responses to others in my life, and to the lies that Satan uses to deceive.

For me, when my soul is malnourished, when it is unhealthy, the symptoms that arise are: shame, anger, sexual lust, feelings of despair, and insecurity. When my soul is not being nourished with solitude and silence, with prayer and scripture, with the sweet words of God’s truth from my community, my life begins to reflect these symptoms. I doubt the truths that are in scripture, that are mine because of the work of Christ. I doubt his love for me, his provision for me, and as I stated in the last post, I doubt the forgiveness that is mine in Jesus.

So, as I embark on another expedition to explore my soul with the Holy Spirit, I ask for your prayer. Prayer for God’s peace and assurance, his presence in my life, his grace, sensitivity to the sin in my heart and in my actions, to see how the Lord might shape me more in the likeness of Jesus; and that as Mindy says, “that my level of understanding of truth is equal to my level of surrender”.

Olympic Illustration

We were watching the Olympics last night, we were watching the pole vault. Some may recall the berating that the US Women’s pole vaulter got from her coach. She had been vaulting for only four years to prepare for the Olympics, she finished second behind the greatest female pole vaulter in the world (according to the commentators). Not bad, right?

Coming to the sideline for pointers and counsel on how to improve her vaults, the US vaulter received a heavy-handed, exasperated litany of wrong-doings and failures. The “insight” was not at all helpful in any way, as either counsel to improve skill, or as an encouragement to persevere through the trial and its included mistakes. It was horribly uncomfortable to watch, he was wearing a mic, so all his words were heard, they both were captured on the screen, she was visibly defeated and crushed by the encounter.

I was challenged today as I was revisting the scene in my mind. How many times have I berated my kids for making a mistake, thinking they ought to know better, they ought to be able to stop doing something, or to obey immediately and to correct the wrong-doing. I was mortified to see my own face in his, my own words coming from his mouth. I do that. I do that. I do it in my heart and in my mind toward people, toward my kids. Many times. I hate it, and it sorrows me. My sin is vomited onto my family, my children are the victims of my own inner wretchedness. I recognized it as the same exasperation that I sometimes feel: I see repeated failure in my life and I have no counsel to give to them because I don’t see “success” in my own life, I feel defeated because I don’t readily see the growth in my own areas of sin. It is not in me, I don’t have a success story to help coach them along (or I am so worked up I am not in the right mind to extract God’s truth).

I realize now those hurtful words come from an inner battle with my ineptitude. I fail repeatedly to love well and to run to Christ with my sinfulness. I try to muscle righteousness and to force my sin down or out of my life, but I can’t. I cannot conquer it on my own, I need Jesus. I felt like that coach saying to his vaulter, “I can’t help you, you blew it, you sucked. That’s all.” It was horrible to hear. And that’s the rub, as long as I think I as a pastor need to have it together, that I have it together in order to give it to someone else, I will always feel exasperated and desperate.

Rather, in my relationships with people, I must show them Jesus. I must show them that I need Jesus, I need to confess and repent of my sin, I need to fall on him for salvation and for righteousness, as long as I think I can do it in myself I will be frustrated with the lack of growth in me and I’ll act like that coach, berating others for their failures. I need to be in a place spiritually that when my kids (or others) are struggling, I am able to speak words of life into them, to encoruage them to run to Christ, to pray for God’s help, to understand their sin more and to pray with them in their growth in grace.

The Red Lizard

In struggling with my sin the past week or so I was drawn back to chapter 11 of C.S. Lewis’, The Great Divorce, basically the second half of that chapter which is the account of the man and the red lizard. You may have read it and know exactly to what I refer.

The Great Divorce is a bus ride from hell to heaven. Those in hell can come to heaven and experience it firsthand. They are all ghosts and so heaven is more real, solid and powerful than they can know. To walk on the grass is painful for the ghosts from hell. Each is met in heaven by an angel and the sin of each ghost is challenged by an angel.

The story of the man and lizard is my story. It is the story of man who’s inner lizard is poisoning his mind, conniving, convincing, tempting the man. The man is led away, until destruction ultimately, by the lies of the lizard, “You’ll be happier doing this…” or, “You must have this, it is yours, you deserve it.” or, “You cannot be here, you should not be here, you are too great a sinner”. The man’s passions are ruling him and ruining him.

The angel approaches the lizard with desire to kill it. The man must give permission for the burning hot, massive angel to destroy the lizard, to kill it. The man resists over and over again. Having grown comfortable with the company of the lizard, he is unwilling to let it go. Over and over again are the excuses for not killing the lizard, “Not today, I must be in good health”, “Let me get another opinion”, It will hurt too much and possibly kill me”.

The angel persists with the man, wanting to free him and kill this thing.

I am the man and I am protecting poisonous lizards all the time. I keep them as pets, I think they will not hurt me, I enjoy the company. And the Angel of the Lord desires to kill it and free me. He, in love, continues to ask, “May I kill it?” I keep saying not yet. Not yet. Not yet. Tomorrow. I must be well. If you kill it, you will also kill me.

I read the passage this morning and I wept. I wept because as the story goes, the man concedes to the angel, the burning hot angel approaches, grabs the lizard and breaks its back, throwing it to the ground. In new found freedom, the ghost slowly turns into a man. He begins to form and to be solid, to be real. He sinks into the grass and it does not hurt. In reading the resurrection of this man I wept profusely, wanting to be free like this man, free of my sin and guilt, free of my hurts and regrets, wanting to find true and full satisfaction in God alone, rather than in anything that he gives.

The lizard is also redeemed. It reforms and transforms into a massive stallion on which the man rides. Horse and master breathed each into the other’s nostrils. The man turned from it, flung himself and the feet of the Burning one, and embraced them. Then the two ride into the great plain toward the foothills of the mountains, into the rose-brightness of that everlasting morning.

There is so much more in this one chapter, I encourage you to read it. Read the lot. It is a wonderful image and incredible encouragement. More to come on this…

Friendship

Throughout the day I was encouraged by the variety of friendships in my life. Unlike these friends, my friendships were and are far more powerful in forming Christ in me.

Today, my ministry interactions included, my wife (as I left the bedroom, our conversations via phone and email, the brief visit at church), my daughters, my co-laborers and ministers of the gospel over here at church including: Chris, Karen, Caleb, Brooke, Stephanie, Craig, Don, Lynne, CarolSue, Paul, Jess, Janie, Keith, Jennifer, Patric, Mimi, Maureen, Suzanne, Dale, Cliff, Wes, Adam, Cartee and others.  We exchanged emails, passed in the hall, had lingering conversations with one another, I helped trouble-shoot computers or they sharpened my theology and my practice.

That was just one day. Each relationship has a particular nuance that challenges me and makes me better. I don’t often tell these individuals what they mean to me or how they have shaped me. Some have pointed out my sin, some have challenged my thinking about self, God, ministry. Some have listened at lenght to my rants and failings. Many have prayed for me faithfully. Many have tolerated my butt-headed-ness and been graciously merciful to me. I am grateful for each one, for what they have helped form in me.

Good stuff. Really good stuff. Maybe I need to write down names of people in my life and how they have shaped me or helped me in my growth in grace.

The Kingdom

I was not ready for “The Kingdom”. It is gruesome, brutal, and as real as I am able to understand of what the middle east *slash* western conflict might actually look like.

Despite being a typical, pro-American, hero-syndrome Hollywood production, there are some segments, situations and dialog that are unnerving, if now downright scary. Another movie that again left me weeping over humanity.

This movie is sobering, and it is moving.

Covenant Community: Communion

Even writing this post elicits emotions in me that are hard to release and understand.

This weekend I was honored to serve communion to my brothers and sisters in Christ. I had participated in the training about a month ago, then my first chance (some time in November) was sick with the bird flu; hacking stuff, coughing incessantly. And, since one of the encouragements in training was to "disappear" and not be a hindrance to a believer participating in the Lord’s Supper, I figured sniffling and coughing on the elements was only slightly distracting.

This week during the 10:30 service it brought me joy to serve men and women "the body and blood of our Savior, who has come for us". It was a joyful, painful experience for me. I can remember the faces of so many of my brothers and sisters in Christ coming to the front and dipping the bread in the juice. As I said that phrase over and over again to each member, "the body and blood of our Savior, who has come for you", it was a perpetual reminder to me that Christ has indeed come for Bill, Susan, Tom, Keith, Jess, Amanda, Greg, Karen, Gloria, Madeline, Jaci, Audrey, Mimi, Peder and Gunnar, Amy, and my wife. He has indeed come to save them. He indeed suffered the cross in the greatest act of love for each of them. Seeing faces, watching their eyes, some responded, some did not, some wept, some smiled, some waited, some hurried. All were sinful and all were loved because of this sacrifice.

But, it ripped me inside to see men and women that I had hurt, that I had sinned against, most unintentionally, some intentionally. I felt unworthy to serve them the body and blood of Christ, I was so aware of my own sin as I saw their faces.  They gave me grace by joining me at this feast and together submitting our lives again to the beautiful lordship of Christ.

When Kara came to take the elements I could not speak, I could not say the words. I was so overcome with love for her, overcome with joy that we profess faith in Christ and together declare our need for him. What we know, what is between us was unspoken in that moment, but it was wonderful that joint profession of faith in the good news of Jesus Christ.

In spite of my sin this weekend, and the wickedness in my heart, the table was still open to me. As Chris preached, it is the object of our faith, not the amount of our faith that heals. My sin is forgiven because of what Christ has done, and I am so grateful. My sin is atoned for according to God’s unfailing love, according to his steadfast love.

This weekend, I needed the words of Psalm 25:4-7

4 Show me your ways, O LORD,
     teach me your paths;
5 guide me in your truth and teach me,
     for you are God my Savior,
     and my hope is in you all day long.
6 Remember, O LORD, your great mercy and love,
     for they are from of old.
7 Remember not the sins of my youth
     and my rebellious ways;
according to your love remember me,
     for you are good, O LORD.

And Psalm 51:1, 7-15:

1 Have mercy on me, O God,
    according to your unfailing love;
according to your great compassion
     blot out my transgressions.
2 Wash away all my iniquity
     and cleanse me from my sin.

7 Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean;
     wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.
8 Let me hear joy and gladness;
     let the bones you have crushed rejoice.
9 Hide your face from my sins
     and blot out all my iniquity.

10 Create in me a pure heart, O God,
     and renew a steadfast spirit within me.
11 Do not cast me from your presence
     or take your Holy Spirit from me.
12 Restore to me the joy of your salvation
     and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.

13 Then I will teach transgressors your ways,
     and sinners will turn back to you.
14 Save me from bloodguilt, O God,
     the God who saves me,
     and my tongue will sing of your righteousness.
15 O Lord, open my lips,
     and my mouth will declare your praise.

Sin, and My Failings

I continue to fail. I fail as a husband, father, provider, lover, son, brother, pastor, teacher, friend, just to name a few. The manner in which I am failing in these areas has become more intense the past couple of days, I suppose I am a bit melancholic the past half week (by past half week, I mean 32 years) or so. I don’t do as I want, I don’t treat others as I ought, I don’t minister in the manner in biblical love.

I read somewhere in a marriage book that we ought to be surprised when people "get it right". In a world caked with sin, sin covering everything and persistent throughout everything (relationships, systems, politics, churches, societies, mechanics, technology, etc.), it should not surprise us when things go bad, rather, it should surprise us when things go well.

A while back (maybe two years), my friend Peder checked my anger at technology that fails.  He said, "Why do you expect it to be perfect when it is made by imperfect people with imperfect parts!?"  I had a default assumption that things ought work right.  My PDA should act right, my Windows machine should not crash, my relationships should be good, my marriage should be successful, I ought to be able to manage being a parent well.  Even my defaults are sinful.

Again, back to the book, we ought not be surprised when people get it wrong, but when people get it right. Peder helped me get something right that night on his patio. The grace that is apparent when a parent is patient, when a spouse confesses his wrong, when forgiveness is extended, when a church loves the world well, those things ought to be celebrated as a divine act of loving grace and for which we run to God in worship.

Yet sin persists. Sin dupes me into thinking that things ought to be right and perfect and whole, and when I see that it is not in fact ANY of those things, that errant sinful expectation multiplies my frustration ten fold. I expect that people will understand my message, and do it (my children too). I expect that my friends will be patient with me and love me. My defaults are sinful.

My Father, change my defaults that I will not be angry or dissolutioned when others simply act in their fallenness (myself included), and open my eyes to the many acts of grace you give, which my weak eyes refuse me to see.