Hiding Our Wounds

Brennan Manning Quote
“You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. 15 Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house.”

Matthew 5:14-15, ESV

Overall, I think this Manning quote is a great observation. We, the torn and wounded, often try to hide, secluding ourselves in the “Island of Misfit Toys.” (Got to love those 60s Christmas cartoons.) We pretty much accept our lot as damaged merchandise.

Maybe we choose to isolate ourselves more than we want to admit. Could that be what we do? Are we still embarrassed and ashamed by all that we’ve done? That’s quite possible.

This may come as a shock, but the Church doesn’t need any more gifted people.

But it does need broken people who understand ‘the giftedness of the flawed.” When we conceal, we diminish the Church by our absence. We can ostracize ourselves, through a self imposed shame— but the Church will suffer. We need to show them that everyone can be healed, even screwy ‘fruit-cakes’ like us.

I recently had the privilege of speaking to a class of young Bible college students.

My subject was decidedly not on being successful, but on being a failure. Whole courses are geared toward ministerial success– but where are the ones for failure? I think that it just might be even more important, in the long run.

No human effort is going to erase your past.

I have tried and it can’t be done. I have blitzed my brains on drugs and booze, but I still remember the people I’ve hurt. (And I pray for them.) There really isn’t a cure for the evil we have done. I believe in forgiveness. And I hold to the idea that are sins are never to be a subject of  guilty accusation–

“He will again have compassion on us;
    he will tread our iniquities underfoot.
You will cast all our sins
    into the depths of the sea.”

Micah 7:19

Our dark iniquity is put in a very deep place. But there are the memories of an unkind word, or a sad and dark foolishness that we must learn to live with. There will be many regrets, and we face the terrible consequences of our sins, but it’s enough to know that all is under the blood of Jesus.

We are indeed forgiven. Completely.

We are now to live as forgiven sinners, yet precious in God’s eyes. We discover that although the Father has no favorites among His children, but He does have intimates. We are to live the rest of our lives for His glory, exploring that intimacy.

“Leave the broken, irreversible past in God’s hands, and step out into the invincible future with Him.”

  Oswald Chambers

He Despises Our Hypocrisy

 

“This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me.”

Matthew 15:8, NASB

“Of all bad men, religious bad men are the worst.”  C.S. Lewis

This singular verse is set in a series of other verses– it certainly does not stand alone.  When these come together, we realize how much the Holy Spirit despises hypocrisy. He hates it, I suppose, because of the destructiveness wreaked on our spirits.

A father or mother may feel a hatred at the dealers who sell the drugs to their child. It’s not that they have any special animosity toward the pusher, but rather, they love their son so much. They will do whatever it takes to protect him.

I really think this is what Jesus feels when it comes to the purveyors of religious legalism, or hypocrisy. He burns with a holy hatred against this particular form of darkness. His vehemence seems reserved, not for sin so much as these lies of “religious pretending”. His repeated “roughness” has to be considered– why?

This should jar us into what is real, and all that is not. The word for hypocrite is “two-faced”. It was used in the Greek theaters for the masks worn by the actors. They would wear whatever the script called for. The audience never knew what was real, and what was only theatrical props.

With our lips (speech) we will honor God. We’ll only speak good things, and words (and actions) become an issue of being appropriate. We put on the particular mask of the moment, and enter the theater. Our hearts are hardly touched, and the deepest part of us becomes inoculated to the real presence of God.

The deep hatred Jesus has is due to the enormity of this sin. It is spirituality gone bad. Twisted and confused, with the shallow veneer of “respectability”. It seems to work for many of us. When our discipleship gets used to wearing masks, things can get very religious.

“Beware of no man more than of yourself; we carry our worst enemies within us.”

Charles Spurgeon

 

Losing Everything You Have

My own studies have immersed me in the awful book of Job. This man lost everything–there is much we can learn from him. But it may be a definite challenge to plow through these “dark” issues. But we need to do this, sooner or later.

First of all, Job is a mysterious book. There’s no reference to the Temple or the Temple services. No connection with other biblical writings or persons. Most students believe that the book of Job is the first one written in the Old Testament.

It’s not Jewish, but it’s not pagan either.

In a real sense, it speaks about suffering and pain. Job lost everything. And yet this book tries to explain what broken believers face every day. We all struggle. We all will experience some sort of suffering and loss.

Job connects us with those with illnesses–mental or physical.

We are people who must try to navigate through dark things. Most will never really understand this, but we are those who must face adversity and conflict. Like Job we start to ask why. We may even end up accusing God of attacking us.

We have to sort things out and believe me, it’s never easy. As we try we’ll often ask “why me?” We often accuse God. But I’m thoroughly convinced that the Almighty isn’t fazed by our questions and we should never think we’re wrong when we so challenge his goodness. He’s big enough to handle these.

In Job we’ll learn to hear God speak to us through “the whirlwind.”

I want to encourage you (the reader) to find place in your heart for this book. Job isn’t easy to read–but I’ve gained a lot by reading it in a modern translation, but anything works. Just pick it up and read. Chapters 1-3 are good.

We’ll realize all of our questions will probably not be answered, but that’s okay. The problem of our suffering will most likely remain. There are no pat answers. I’m sorry.

“Anyone who has suffered knows that there is no such thing as ‘getting a grip on oneself’ or ‘pulling oneself up by the bootstraps.’ The only bootstrap in the Christian life is the Cross, sometimes laying hold of the cross can be comforting, but other times it is like picking up a snake.””

Mike Mason

When God Makes Toast

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“The sinners in Zion are terrified;
    trembling grips the godless:
“Who of us can dwell with the consuming fire?
    Who of us can dwell with everlasting burning?”

Isaiah 33:14, NIV

There is a strange lack in the Church, and quite frankly, it is disturbing. Our churches have operated on nothing for so long, what we think is normal isn’t even close. We really should compare ourselves to the young Church in the early chapters of the Book of Acts. Each believer had his own personal “flame” resting and abiding on them.

“Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them.”

Acts 2:2-3

Our churches should be places where we directly encounter the Lord God. I would like to suggest that our elders, and our ushers, start handing out life-preservers, and flares. (Rafts, of course, should be readily available.) For who can know what will happen when we make “first contact” with the Living God. All provision for survival should be made. Ambulances should become routine when the Church meets.

Agape love can completely undo us. It seems meeting with God is a bit like dwelling in a nuclear reactor, of love and of mercy and grace.

When God’s presence rips into us full blast, we will have to decide whether to take Him in His tumultuous power, or walk away unscathed. Do we fully understand the power that we so blithely invoke? We often tolerate something less, to see that our life isn’t turned upside down. Perhaps we reason, or think, that this is the most terrible thing that could happen to us.

His special grace just can’t be filtered out without changing the gospel.

We are bread in His toaster. He sears us with divine grace. (He then slathers us with ‘butter.’) Something akin to a deep agape love singes on us, and perhaps we might easily ignite. But perhaps that is what it is all about anyway, isn’t it?