Embracing the Simplicity

Look to be simple
Look to be simple

A Prayer of a Simple Man

I am not worthy, Master and Lord, that thou shouldst come under the roof of my soul: yet, since thou in thy love toward all men, dost wish to dwell with me, in boldness I come.  Thou commandest, Open the gates– which thou alone has forged; and thou will come in with love toward all men, as is thy nature; thou will come in and enlighten my dark reasoning.

I believe that thou will doest: for thou didst not send away the harlot who came to thee with tears; nor cast out the repenting publican; nor reject the thief who acknowledged thy kingdom; nor forsake the repentant persecutor, a yet greater act; but all of those who came to thee in repentance, didst count in the band of thy friends, who alone abidest blessed forever, now, and unto the everlasting ages.

St. John of Chrysostom, c. 347-407

Bryan’s Note:

Unquestionably, the use of archaic English is a bit of a linguistic speed bump for us.  But the essential content develops for us to see a hungry heart; a heart that understands the Gospel. And mercy. And grace.  John has a fascinating understanding of the purposes of Jesus, and seeks to honor Him before all who hear the Spirit’s voice.

His time, allotted to him by God was about 60 years.  He would remain faithful and pass a blazing torch to the next generation.  He was a link from the Apostles to a more modern generation.  As a bipolar believer, I sometimes will struggle with clarity; of both words and thought.  I value anyone who can concisely touch on the things that concern me.  I think St. John does that, if we are patient and work it through, we will be blessed and enriched.

Our very unsteadiness is often detrimental. As our moods shift around we still carry the hope that we might just wake up tomorrow solid and strong. Bipolar disorder, schizophrenia and clinical depression has completely messed with us, we are ravaged as broken believers. Often, we make very bad decisions that only inflame our mental illness.

Becoming simple can often cool things down. We become aware that as we embrace the simplicity we find the “eye of the storm.” In the chaotic and confused (often self-inflicted) we just might find peace.

“Every man dies. Not every man really lives.” — William Wallace

ybic, Bryan

kyrie elesion. (Lord, have mercy)

Just Like Jesus

“I am not praying just for these followers. I am also praying for everyone else who will have faith because of what my followers will say about me.” 

John 17:2o

Here is where we watch Jesus weave an intercessory web of prayer for His followers.  This is significant in three ways.

First, He bestows on intercessory prayer its breadth and width.  What Jesus is doing is showing us the perimeters of prayer, revealing to us what it can do.  The scope is pretty much everyone, in every generation, and nation.  The last few months I’ve been praying for the Ukraine.  I don’t know why, I have no contacts there.  But I believe I have been recruited to pray.  And it has been good for me to do this.

Secondly, Jesus displays His confidence that His message will work in the hearts of people.  His followers will be ultimately effective with the Gospel.  He is making spiritual provision for them, helping them, if you will, all the way down the corridors of time.  Reaching each one, each believer.

What if you knew Jesus was praying for you?  That you could hear Him in the next room, praying for you by name?  That would be totally awesome!  But He is praying, and has prayed for you. (That should pump you up!)

Thirdly, Jesus reveals His love.  He is mere hours from a torturous death.  He will be beaten severely, scorned and mocked.  Yet Jesus is still “on-duty” as the Good Shepherd.  He is thinking about us, and remembering our needs.  You know, I’m not like Jesus at all.  I think of myself, my needs, my situation all the time.  But Jesus is teaching me to love, just like He does. He is teaching me JOY.

J– Jesus

O– Others

Y– You

*

ybic, Bryan

Kissing Twisted Lips

God accommodates Himself to our ‘sickness’.  We find that He has this beautiful quality about Him, that He becomes quite tender and gentle around any spiritual disease.

In his book Mortal Lessons (Touchstone Books, 1987) physician Richard Selzer describes a scene in a hospital room after he had performed surgery on a young woman’s face:

“I stand by the bed where the young woman lies . . . her face, postoperative . . . her mouth twisted in palsy . . . clownish. A tiny twig of the facial nerve, one of the muscles of her mouth, has been severed. She will be that way from now on. I had followed with religious fervor the curve of her flesh, I promise you that. Nevertheless, to remove the tumor in her cheek, I had cut this little nerve. Her young husband is in the room. He stands on the opposite side of the bed, and together they seem to be in a world all their own in the evening lamplight . . . isolated from me . . .private.

Who are they? I ask myself . . . he and this wry mouth I have made, who gaze at and touch each other so generously. The young woman speaks. “Will my mouth always be like this?” she asks. “Yes,” I say, “it will. It is because the nerve was cut.” She nods and is silent. But the young man smiles. “I like it,” he says, “it’s kind of cute.” All at once I know who he is. I understand, and I lower my gaze. One is not bold in an encounter with the divine. Unmindful, he bends to kiss her crooked mouth, and I am so close I can see how he twists his own lips to accommodate to hers. . . to show her that their kiss still works

This is who Jesus has always been. And if you think you are getting to be a great kisser or are looking desirable, I feel sorry for you. He wraps himself around our hurts, our brokenness and our ugly, ever-present sin. Those of you who want to draw big, dark lines between my humanity and my sin, go right ahead, but I’m not joining you. It’s all ME. And I need Jesus so much to love me like I really am: brokenness, memories, wounds, sins, addictions, lies, death, fear….all of it. Take all it, Lord Jesus. If I don’t present this broken, messed up person to Jesus, my faith is dishonest, and my understanding of it will become a way of continuing the ruse and pretense of being “good.”

Now I want to talk about why this is important. We must begin to accept who we are, and bring a halt to the sad and repeated phenomenon of lives that are crumbling into pieces because the only Christian experience they know about is one that is a lie. We are infected with something that isn’t the Gospel, but a version of a religious life; an entirely untruthful version that drives genuine believers into the pit of despair and depression because, contrary to the truth, God is “against” them, rather than for them.

The verse says, “When I am weak, then I am strong- in Jesus.” It does not say “When I am strong, then I am strong, and you’ll know because Jesus will get all the credit.” Let me use two examples, and I hope neither will be offensive to those who might read and feel they recognize the persons described.

Many years ago, I knew a man who was a vibrant and very public Christian witness. He was involved in the “lay renewal” movement in the Southern Baptist Convention, which involved a lot of giving testimonies of “what God was doing in your life.” (A phrase I could do without.) He was well-known for being a better speaker than most preachers, and he was an impressive and persuasive lay speaker. His enthusiasm for Christ was convincing.

He was also known to be a serial adulterer. Over and over, he strayed from his marriage vows, and scandalized his church and its witness in the community. When confronted, his response was predictable. He would visit the Church of Total Victory Now, and return claiming to have been delivered of the “demons of lust” that had caused him to sin. Life would go on. As far as I know, the cycle continued, unabated, for all the time I knew about him.

I understand that the church today needs- desperately- to hear experiential testimonies of the power of the Gospel. I understand that it is not good news to say we are broken and are going to stay that way. I know there will be little enthusiasm for saying sanctification consists, in large measure, in seeing our sin, and acknowledging what it is and how deep and extensive it has marred us. I doubt that the ‘triumphalists’ will agree with me that the fight of faith is not a victory party, but a bloody war on a battlefield that resembles Omaha Beach more than a Beach party.

I write this piece particularly concerned for leaders, parents, pastors and teachers. I am moved and distressed that so many of them, most of all, are unable to admit their humanity, and their brokenness. In silence, they carry the secret, then stand in the place of public leadership and present a Gospel that is true, but a Christian experience that is far from true.

Then, from time to time, they fall. Into adultery, like the pastor of one of our state’s largest churches. A wonderful man, who kept a mistress for years rather than admit a problem millions of us share: faulty, imperfect marriages. Where is he now, I wonder? And where are so many others I’ve known and heard of who fell under the same weight? Their lives are lost to the cause of the Kingdom because they are just like the rest of us?

By the way, I’m not rejecting Biblical standards for leadership. I am suggesting we need a Biblical view of humanity when we read those passages. Otherwise we are going to turn statements like “rules his household well” into a disqualification to every human being on the planet.

I hear of those who are depressed. Where do they turn for help? How do they admit their hurt? It seems so “unChristian” to admit depression, yet it is a reality for millions and millions of human beings. Porn addiction. Food addiction. Rage addiction. Obsessive needs for control. Chronic lying and dishonesty. How many pastors and Christian leaders live with these human frailties and flaws, and never seek help because they can’t admit what we all know is true about all of us? They speak of salvation, love and Jesus, but inside they feel like the damned.

Multiply this by the hundreds of millions of broken Christians. They are merely human, but their church says they must be more than human to be good Christians. They cannot speak of or even acknowledge their troubled lives. Their marriages are wounded. Their children are hurting. They are filled with fear and the sins of the flesh. They are depressed and addicted, yet they can only approach the church with the lie that all is well, and if it becomes apparent that all is not well, they avoid the church.

I do not blame the church for this situation. It is always human nature to avoid the mirror and prefer the self-portrait. I blame all of us who know better. We know this is not the message of the Gospels, the Bible or of Jesus. But we  every one of us is afraid to live otherwise. What if someone knew we were not a good Christian? Ah…what if…what if….

I close with a something I have said many times before. The Prodigal son, there on his knees, his father’s touch upon him, was not a “good” or “victorious” Christian. He was broken. A failure. He wasn’t even good at being honest. He wanted religion more than grace. His father baptized him in mercy, and resurrected him in grace. His brokenness was wrapped up in the robe and the embrace of God.

Why do we want to be better than that boy? Why do we make the older brother the goal of Christian experience? Why do we want to add our own addition to the parable, where the prodigal straightens out and becomes a successful youth speaker, writing books and doing youth revivals?

Lutheran writer Herman Sasse, in a meditation on Luther’s last words, “We are beggars. This is true,” puts it perfectly:

Luther asserted the very opposite: “Christ dwells only with sinners.” For the sinner and for the sinner alone is His table set. There we receive His true body and His true blood “for the forgiveness of sins” and this holds true even if forgiveness has already been received in Absolution. That here Scripture is completely on the side of Luther needs no further demonstration. Every page of the New Testament is indeed testimony of the Christ whose proper office it is “to save sinners”, “to seek and to save the lost”. And the entire saving work of Jesus, from the days when He was in Galilee and, to the amazement and alarm of the Pharisees, ate with tax collectors and sinners; to the moment when he, in contradiction with the principles of every rational morality, promised paradise to the thief on the cross, yes, His entire life on earth, from the cradle to the Cross, is one, unique grand demonstration of a wonder beyond all reason: The miracle of divine forgiveness, of the justification of the sinner. “Christ dwells only in sinners’.

***** 

 

Most of this is past of an old post from the blog of the “Internet Monk” and has been repeated here for your edification.

This blog can be read in its entirity at :  http://www.internetmonk.com/archive/imonk-101-when-i-am-weak-why-we-must-embrace-our-brokenness-and-never-be-good-christians

The Internet Monk’s website is really engaging and diverse and I strongly suggest visiting it.

 ybic, Bryan

 

 

Understanding the Gospel of Bill (W)

Every once in a while, I’m introduced to something quite wonderful. I usually look, and mostly move on. However I approached this blog and felt I just made an awesome discovery. I asked myself (I talk to myself a lot) if I should or shouldn’t share this with you.

I came to realize that if I didn’t share this that that would be sin. Honestly.

The site is called “The Gospel of Bill (W): What Christians Can Learn from the 12-Step Programs.” It seems to be updated regularly and it could really be a boost to any one who is battling alcoholism or other addictions. Stats say that 50% of bipolar people have a definite problems in this area. Mentally ill people are especially vulnerable and end up trying to “self-medicate” themselves. We think that drinking and drugging will help us deal with our nasty and ugly lives.

Some titles I found interesting: “Thomas Kinkade and the Reality of Addiction” and “Easter Aftermath: Reflections on Death, Recovery and Resurrection”. I was also intrigued by this gem, “Powerlessness Revisited—the Tragedy of Amy Winehouse.” (That post is well on its way to being a classic!)

These posts are relevant and sincere. They just maybe your “cup of tea,” or “up your alley” (or choose your own metaphor, lol.)

May I gently suggest, that even if you don’t have any addiction issues, you undoubtly know someone who does. Share the “Gospel of Bill (W)” with them. You very well could be the light.

http://12stepspirituality.wordpress.com/

ybic, Bryan