Imagine climbing up to the top of a very tall tree. You work your way up to the highest point– you can go no further. The view is completely glorious, it’s more than you hoped for. You want to post it on Facebook, so you dig into your pocket to get your camera-phone. You suddenly slip, and because your arms are occupied getting your camera, you fall. And you fall fast.
As you plummet, you realize that you’re hitting every branch on the way down. The smaller ones break, and the bigger ones, well– you just bounce off. The trip down is very fast, and perhaps even a bit illuminating.
First, you think of death.
Then you think about the pain each branch causes, and wonder about your imminent arrival on terra firma.
Perhaps you consider how stupid you are, and how you are going to explain it.
Lastly, I suppose, you wonder if you have clean underwear on, like your mother always told you to wear.
This is how my life has gone, the last 20 years. This metaphor is a good way for me to process things, and to find some understanding. I now believe that some of us go through life sideways, or horizontal. We careen off of every branch on the way down, and it seems we are hitting branches that we didn’t even know were there. Tree limbs are snapping, as we are dropping.
Others who are wiser (or maybe more experienced,) try to fall more vertically. As they fall, they use their hands to try to slow their descent. (This does work!) They will take their fair share of jolts, no doubt. But their journey to the forest floor is way less traumatic. They may end up in the hospital– but not in emergency surgery like the first guy.
It sometimes seems like every trouble I have faced I have gone into it sideways. I have broken a lot of branches on my way down. I suppose I’ve entertained some who have watched me plummet, and seen me careen and spiral my way to the bottom. These have been some painful times, I have inflicted considerable amount of bruises on myself.
People who go through life sideways will invariably suffer. They seem to hit every obstacle and trial that could be in their flight path. The existence of pain in this life cannot be disputed.
“I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.”
John 16:33, NLT
Jesus understands. Especially if you are one of those people who are “trial magnets” going through life horizontal. (You just seem to collect them.) My hope for you that as you break your branches on the way down (for maybe the 100th time). You will try to plummet vertically. Not that it is any easier, life will hurt. But perhaps it won’t be as agonizing. And I suppose that would be a good thing.
“Now unto him that is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy,”
“He begs God on behalf of a human as a person begs for his friend.”
Job 16:21, NCV
I’ve been thinking about a class I had in Bible School. The instructor made a comment that has stuck in my thinking for over 30 years now. I have relied on it countless times in ministry since. It has helped me piece together certain issues of the heart.
When we “preach” to a person, we are actively accelerating the judgement of God in their life. When we pray for that same person, we delay this judgement and allow more room for the Holy Spirit to work.
Preaching
Now I know this is a generalization, and yet the basic premise of preaching and praying has a specific action. When you preach, you are calling that person to make a decision. They meet up with the truth and must decide for themselves. This is a very sensitive moment. If they consider your message at all– you must understand, one way or the other, that it will require a decision. Either they act on it, or they’ll decide to reject it.
Within the Bible we often see judgement coming to someone, and very often it comes right after a “declaration of the truth” by a witness or a sermon. Those who hear the word must choose to believe it, or spurn it. Even a neutral position is a position. A decision must be made on all light that comes their way.
Prayer
Perhaps this may be easier to see. The Word is full of men and women who interceded for others. If preaching accelerates God’s judgement on a person (or group,) than prayer decelerates it. In a sense, authentic intercession can give them more time. It delays things, without approving them.
A classic case is Abraham. He intercedes, and by doing so desires to save and deliver God’s own. He “stands in the gap” for the unaware. We see him “negotiating” with the Lord, trying to make a deal of sorts. He is bold and somewhat presumptuous. And actually, this is a regular occurrence with different circumstances. Many in scripture do seem to get intensely involved in the lives of the people they represent.
“I will surely not stop praying for you, because that would be sinning against the Lord. I will teach you what is good and right.”
1 Samuel 12:23
Conclusion
Should we preach or pray? We must consider, I think, the certain obligations of both. I believe at the end of a person’s life, they have had both dynamics working. Its like the tide– it ebbs and then advances, and perhaps that will help us to do the right thing at the right time. We understand the necessity of preaching, and just as important the work of prayer. We must do both, but grasp the issues behind each work. Both are necessary for one to come to faith in Jesus.
Seeing the effects of our actions brings us into a deeper understanding of the life in the Spirit. It motivates and will guide us. We start to understand the Lord’s ways and become aware of what is happening in the world that is around us. This new discernment can only sharpen our work.
“Messy Spirituality:” A Book Excerpt by Mike Yaconelli
“For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to be a godly person. Yet when I look at the yesterdays of my life, what I see, mostly, is a broken, irregular path littered with mistakes and failure. I have had temporary successes and isolated moments of closeness to God, but I long for the continuing presence of Jesus.
Most of the moments of my life seem hopelessly tangled in a web of obligations and distractions. I want to be a good person. I don’t want to fail. I want to learn from my mistakes, rid myself of distractions, and run into the arms of Jesus. Most of the time, however, I feel like I am running away from Jesus into the arms of my own clutteredness. I want desperately to know God better. I want to be consistent. Right now the only consistency in my life is my inconsistency. Who I want to be and who I am are not very close together. I am not doing well at the ‘living-a-consistent-life’ thing.
I don’t want to be St. John of the Cross or Billy Graham. I just want to be remembered as a person who loved God, who served others more than he served himself, who was trying to grow in maturity and stability. I want to have more victories than defeats, yet here I am, almost 60, and I fail on a regular basis.
If I were to die today, I would be nervous about what people would say at my funeral. I would be happy if they said things like “He was a nice guy” or “He was occasionally decent” or “Mike wasn’t as bad as a lot of people. ”Unfortunately, eulogies are delivered by people who know the deceased. I know what the consensus would be.“Mike was a mess.”
You might say Christianity has a tradition of messy spirituality. Messy prophets, messy kings, messy disciples, messy apostles. From God’s people getting in one mess after another in the Old Testament to most of the New Testament’s being written to straighten out messes in the church, the Bible presents a glorious story of a very messy faith. Sounds like you and I are in good company.
A few years ago, I was introduced to a group of uncouth Christians who call themselves “the Notorious Sinners.” These are men from all walks of life who meet once a year to openly share their messy spirituality with each other. The title ‘Notorious Sinners’ refers to the scandalous category of forgiven sinners whose reputations and ongoing flaws didn’t seem to keep Jesus away.
In fact, Jesus had a habit of collecting disreputables; he called them disciples. He still does. I like people who openly admit their ‘notoriousness’—people who unabashedly confess they are hopelessly flawed and hopelessly forgiven. Graciously, these men invited me to be a part of their group. The ‘Notorious Sinners’ meet yearly at spiritual-retreat centers, where from the moment we arrive, we find ourselves in trouble with the centers’ leadership.
We don’t act like most contemplatives who come to spiritual-retreat centers— reserved, quiet, silently seeking the voice of God. We’re a different kind of contemplative— earthy, boisterous, noisy, and rowdy, tromping around our souls, seeking God, hanging out with a rambunctious Jesus who is looking for a good time in our hearts.
A number of us smoke cigars, about half are recovering alcoholics, and a couple of the men could embarrass a sailor with their language. Two of the ‘Notorious Sinners’ show up on their Harleys, complete with leather pants and leather jackets. I admit I run with a rough crowd—Christians whose discipleship is blatantly real and carelessly passionate, characterized by a brazen godliness. Unafraid to admit their flaws, unintimidated by Christians who deny their own messiness, these guys sometimes look like pagans and other times look like Jesus.
They are spiritual troublemakers, really, which is why they look like Jesus (who was always causing trouble himself ). They are full of mischief, laughter, and boisterous behavior, which is why they look like pagans. Truly messy disciples. The ‘Notorious Sinners’ are definitely a bizarre mix of the good, the bad, and the ugly, living a spirituality which defies simple definitions.
Oh, and they are some of the most spiritual men I know.”
___________________________
Messy Spirituality [Book] by Michael Yaconelli, Karla Yaconelli in Books
By Michael Yaconelli, Mike Yaconelli, Karla Yaconelli – Zondervan (2007) – Paperback -192 pages-ISBN 0310277302
I Guess I’m Not a Very Good Christian . . . Do you feel like: I don’t pray enough I don’t read my Bible enough I don’t share my faith enough I don’t love God enough I’m not committed enough I’m not spiritual enough Then this book is for you.
Messy Spirituality was written for the silent majority of us who have been convinced that we just don’t do Christianity right. We spend most of our lives worried about what we don’t do instead of what we have done, focused on our imperfections instead of God’s fondness for the imperfect. Why?
Because we’ve been bombarded with books, tapes, talks, seminars, and movies convincing us that real Christianity is all about perfection. Michael Yaconelli dares to suggest that imperfection, infiniteness, and messiness are, in fact, the earmarks of true Christianity; that real Christianity is messy, erratic, lopsided . . . and gloriously liberating.
What if genuine faith begins with admitting we will never have our act completely together? Maybe messy disciples are exactly the kind of imperfect people Jesus came to earth for and whose company he actually enjoyed–and still enjoys.
If you want to find Jesus today, look for him in the midst of burned-out believers, moral misfits, religious incompetents . . . men and women whose lives are, well, messy.
Messy Spirituality is a strong antidote for the spiritual perfectionism in us all. Here are truths that can cut you loose from the tyranny of ought-to’s and open your eyes to the deep spirituality of being loved, shortcomings and all, by the God who meets you and transforms you in the midst of a messy and unpredictable life.
I’ve had several experiences with His presence. These are quite astonishing, and I really can’t minimize any of them. What the Father gives, I certainly accept.
#1, We were at language school, and broke. We had nothing extra to spend. My son, Benjamin came down with a fever. It was a formidable one. It was a 103 F or more. We didn’t know what to do.
I went up to his bedside, completely overwhelmed. And I laid my hands on him and prayed. It was a simple prayer, actually quite pathetic. But it was sincere. Ben was blazing hot, and I ventured into that. I prayed, and then took my hands off him. There was nothing significant about it all, just an overwrought father going through the motions. A few minutes later, I laid my hands on him and he was cool. I can’t explain it. God touched Benjamin, and I simply can’t understand it.
#2, We were heading to Mexico, with a overloaded car without A/C. We were traveling from Texas to San Diego. It was terribly hot. We were travelling with another couple, from Canada. We sort of decided to convoy together. But somewhere in Arizona, we decided to split up. It was way too hot, and the Canadians could only go 40 miles per hour, pulling their trailer.
I looked back at my kids, and they were comatose. The heat had wiped them out. At this point, I decided to break up the convoy. We would now cross Arizona at 80 mph. Enough was enough.
I was very anxious. I was taking my family across the border, and I was quite intimidated. I remember praying a desperate prayer for guidance. It was short and simple, without any “flowery” language. It was just me, praying for help. I just want to make that clear.
After a night in a San Diego hotel, we went shopping for things we would need in Mexico. We then headed for the border crossing. I was still anxious and fearful. As we approached the border, there was several lanes. I chose a lane, and all of a sudden I heard a horn beeping. I looked back and saw our Canadian friends directly behind us! In that instant, I understood the Father’s care for my family. What we were experiencing was a million to one shot.
#3, While in Mexico I had decided that we would support the local ministries whenever we could. A pastor pulled up, his car tank was quite empty. I went out to greet him, and realized I needed to give him gasoline. He pulled in and I decided to siphon from my car to his.
As I worked the hoses, I inhaled a great deal of gas. I started to choke, I couldn’t draw in any air. I remember falling to my knees in our trailer. My wife could only watch, as I struggled for air. I very well could have died. As I gasped for air, I realized His deep care for me. I realize now that He truly loves me. (But I did “burp” a lot of gasoline for several weeks.)
These three examples are quite intense. I suppose that I couldn’t fabricate any of them. Each of them is a drastic example of God’s goodness. All that I have experienced I pass to you. Just know that God is very good, and He loves you. You belong to Him.
Broken Believers 