Some Scars Keep Seeping

My human bent is toward achievement. (Wait, no, that sounds braggy and not at all right.)

My human bent is toward earning. It just makes sense to me at a chromosomal level, I guess. Best be striving and working and weeping and attaining, or else you get nothing. That is exactly what sounds fair to my base self.

You sow. You reap.

You sow, so you CAN reap.

My “theological” raising was similar and one fed the other like a hungry beast. To get something, you must earn it. Look, God has done His part (Jesus and all), now you do yours. Ok, that sounded fair at the time. Legalistic teachings woven with work-based salvation -- they were kneaded into the dough of my development, permeating the very fibers that made up the ME I became. The ME I still struggle daily NOT to be.

Pastor gave an illustration today that unexpectedly punched me in the gut (forgive me, brother, if I butcher it here):

“Suppose you enter an Olympic-level event, but you finish dead last. No, you don’t even finish. They are turning out the stadium lights, the crowds are dispersing, and the race is history long before you can even come close to completing. Then suddenly you find yourself baptized in light, a spotlight beaming down on your sad loser-self. The crowd churns up, but not with boos or shameful chants or jeering, no, they are cheering for you. The championship emblem is placed around your neck, because for some reason the actual victor had made a legally binding contract that stated all of his accolades would be bestowed upon you, even though your efforts were pitiful and lacking. He gives his crown to the likes of you, and it was his pleasure to do so.”

A picture of the gift grace.

But as I listened, I noticed that my body was getting warm, my ire was rising just imagining myself in such a scenario. My knee-jerk, gut reaction was “no!” Because in real life I would not feel humble or grateful to receive a prize that I didn’t deserve in some earthly foot race I couldn’t even complete. It would make me angry! I know myself and I would want to refuse it. I couldn’t take a crown that belonged to another. If I hadn’t worked hard enough, run fast enough, trained smart enough to get to the finish line, that was on me – it was only fair -- if I had failed, I deserved a failure’s reward.

My reaction was a bit involuntary and surprised me how strong it was. It also reminded me that I still have a lot of work to do on the sanctification highway. (Ugh! There's that idea of "work" again!)

Because, unfortunately, that old sentiment is still trying to mold my heart’s foundation, be my underpinning. There were so many years of adolescent warnings that if there was even one sin I hadn’t named and repented for, I was toast. A holy God demanded a clean slate before entrance would be extended to such a sinner. BUT, if I really, REALLY tried hard, I could do it. I could earn myself a seat at the table. That’s what I took from it anyway.

Couple those formative-years teachings with the flavor of OCD that tags around in my brain, and it’s an uphill battle daily. Certainty is a foreign tongue.

And even now, having left that former tradition, feeling myself “reasonably Reformed” and standing under grace (for the Bible tells me so), I realize that, at my core, I don’t necessarily automatically always believe it. I want to. I want to have the kind of assurance that follows me around in the dark, lifts me up when I want to stay down, rethreads the needle on the days my faith is down to its last fraying strand. I want THAT!

My therapist asked once if I believed God loved me. I said I always felt more like He tolerated me. No one ever told me that in so many words, but somehow, it’s what this fallen fixture settled into. I want to believe His love, His grace, the certainty of salvation all the way down to the marrow in my bones, but the truth is, it’s sometimes a hard sell. I’m still a bit broken with these seepy scars. My brain still needs to convince my heart, or maybe it’s the other way around.

I don’t know, but I’m glad to draw another breath and keep trying. Or trusting. Or trying to trust.

 

 

Sidenote: There were several quotes from Tim Keller in the sermon this morning. And I miss him.

 

 

Outliving Legalism - a poem

Image by congerdesign from Pixabay.

Outliving Legalism  (presented without comment)

Jesus tolerates me, this I know
My childhood preacher told me so
So in my shame and in my fear
I tried my best not to get too near

His Jesus knew me in and out
And marked me up for every doubt
Kept careful tally of all my sins
So it would be clear why I didn’t get in

But through all the laws that preacher laid
He failed to tell that my debt was paid
By righteous ransom – How could that be?
Then I heard You whisper, “Come to me . . .”

Yes, Christ, You saved this heart of mine
You healed it holy, now I’m wholly Thine
And when I still struggle to believe
You are rest and peace and certainty

The Songs We Sing

 

 Photo by JF by Pixabay.

“It is the voice of the Church that is heard in singing together. It is not you that sings, it is the Church that is singing, and you, as a member of the Church, may share in its song.” – Dietrich Bonhoeffer

 

Whenever and wherever God’s people gather, as brothers and sisters, as the unified Body of Christ, we raise a song together. And because, as Bonhoeffer implied, it is a fearful, beautiful, holy thing that we struggling pilgrims put words on the lips of the Bride of Christ, we do well to carefully consider those sung words. Singing for the King is an honor, but it is also a responsibility to be shepherded well.

 

WHY We Sing

Scripture demonstrates countless instances of congregational singing within the church, but, in a nutshell, God’s people gather to sing for two primary reasons: to praise God and to encourage one another in the truth. In terms of worship songs, we typically categorize these as vertical (sung to God) and horizontal (sung to one another about God).

Begin with the Old Testament and the Psalms, then lean into the epistles to find exclamations of praise and prayer sung directly to God the Father and to Christ. His people lift praises for His unchanging nature, His power and goodness. He is worthy! We also call out in tune with desperate petitions and sung prayers to the God who hears those pleas and welcomes them.

Also, while we gather, we sing as a means of remembrance and encouragement, to look into the faces of our church family and retell the Gospel again and again. Our good God knew we would need to remind one another, in our fallen flesh and blood, day in and day out, that the redemption story is true, and one way we do this is through songs sung together.

 

WHAT We Sing

Scripture is our guide. We determine what sorts of songs, words and phrases are to be put on the lips of Jesus’ Church by looking at THE Word. So, with regard to the songs we sing, we must ask:

“Is it true?” and “Does it honor God?”

Much like all aspects of our walk of faith, the songs within the Body must be measured against what Scripture teaches. Heaven forbid (literally) that we mouth any untrue words about our God within our songs. It’s good and worth the time to comb through lyrics used in worship and root out anything that might contain error. Teaching is happening when we sing, so we must hold firmly to truth.

It’s also important to honestly consider the focus of each song, whether we are honoring our God or ourselves. Often called “me-centric” worship songs, many verses have been penned that zero in narrowly on the gifts and hype the recipients (us) far more so than the great Giver. May we be more forgetful of ourselves and keep our hearts directed toward the Father in the things we sing to Him.

 

HOW We Sing

Yes, we sing with open hearts and seeking spirits, but the HOW category is a tricky one, because it’s also where we deal with the style of the music we use in our churches. It can become a difficult and divisive topic among a diverse people because style preferences vary from person to person, neighborhood to neighborhood, nation to nation and era to era. I personally was raised on heavy metal and Motown, so most of the songs we sing don’t quite fit my background either.

But here’s the thing (and this is just my own opinion): If a song meets the “true” and “God-honoring” criteria laid out previously, style is going to be a secondary issue, one of preference and expediency for the congregation and the musicians serving. To incorporate various musical styles, when possible, can be a beautiful thing. It’s also beautiful and crucial to, when necessary, sacrifice a bit of our personal preferences to facilitate the united worship of God’s people.

 

Friends, it’s a big, glorious deal that God calls His people to sing together. What an honor to honor Him in this way! In a world ripe with self-seeking, individualism and division, a group of people getting together to lift voices in united song can seem a bit strange to the outside population. A bit “not of this world.” Good. As such, let us continue to meet together, get loud with praises and give words of life to one another as we demonstrate to the world just how worthy He is to receive these songs.

 

 

 

 

 

Holy Week Poems . . . Monday - Good Friday

Tests and Traps (for Monday of Holy Week)

The day’s wakening brings a stale surge of testing,

careful traps systematically set to spring and sever,

but feet that scale the wild waves worriless

know no fear of capture

and tread lightly anyway on these earth’s thoroughfares

So onward to the throne, splintered and stained,

to the hanging and the humbling

for me

meanwhile flippant and tardy invitees are cast out

manipulators learn of their just end

and a barren tree tells the future

for both the fruitless

and the faithful

The plan is in motion and will not be amended

Today, the serpent-crusher steps with valiant purpose toward week’s end

Holy Tuesday – A One-Sided, Sacred Rap Battle

Come, it’s time to stir the pot

He’s got rhyme they can’t dispute

Root up pride, ye hypocrites,

Sit and burn ‘neath rare repute

All you fam think you’re so righteous

Slamming doors on seeking souls

God abhors such cold, blind guides

With dead insides, hell’s loopholes

Filthy phonies! Sons of snakes!

Own your guilt and count the sum

Of sin, plumb through holy shade

The God who made you, Christ, has come

How to Savor Silence (Holy Wednesday)

Before the genesis of the eucharist

Before the humble handling of those filthy feet

Before the olive grove

and the blood splatter

and the guilt-laced kiss

there lay

a day

of quiet

betwixt parade and passion

But how could He savor that silence

when he knew what awaited

the cosmic chaos, the torture and tearing slated

for the other end of the reprieve?

Oh, He knew the quiet would soon turn to clamor

Yet rest thrives best inside a deep pocket of sovereignty

The tunnel’s dark end

can cast no shadow when

each moment is bathed in the light of holy confidence,

confidence in the good Maker Almighty

in His goodness and purpose and

His steadfast love that King David sang so loudly of

and for you, dear one, confidence in knowing that on that Wednesday

yes, the God-man knew

and He still chose you

Glimpses of the Good Shepherd Within the Shepherd’s Psalm (Maundy Thursday)

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want

*And when the hour had come*

He makes me lie down in green pastures

*He reclined at table*

He leads me beside still waters

*He poured water into a basin and began to wash their feet*

He restores my soul

*“I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer”*

He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake

*“Father, I have glorified You on earth”*

Even though I walk through the valley of deepest darkness

*“My soul is very sorrowful, even unto death”*

I will fear no evil, for you are with me

*“Father . . .”*

Your rod and your staff, they comfort me

*“Your will be done”*

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies

*Judas answered, “Is it I, Rabbi?”*

You anoint my head with oil

*“. . . she has done a beautiful thing to me”*

My cup overflows

*“drink . . . this is my blood poured out for the forgiveness of sins”*

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life

*“take heart, I have overcome the world”*

And I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever

*“. . . in my Father’s kingdom”*

And when they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives

Darkness Dawns and the Price is Paid (Good Friday)

Darkness dawns and the price is paid

This rate of wrath for all I’ve done

A cruel cross for the holy Son

Through lace of lies each charge was laid

Now darkness dawns and the price is paid

Mid-day mourning masks the sun

The seemingly “forsaken” One

Cries out beneath the burden weighed

Darkness dawns and the price is paid

Oh, wilting Savior, heaven-shunned

It feels like death has almost won

Hope is slipping and I’m afraid

As darkness dawns and the price is paid

My God, I’ll wait ‘til glory’s spun

And I’ll take no ease ‘til Your return

The Light of Life has been betrayed

Darkness dawns and the price is paid

On 1 Corinthians 10:12 & 13

Image by Daniel Reche from Pixabay.

 

We usually start the thought in verse 13:

No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and He will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation He will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.

It’s a word of encouragement. A “you’re not alone” in the trials and things with which you struggle. And then more encouragement in that “God is faithful” to help you hold up underneath the crushing trial and temptation.

That’s good stuff, for sure. And necessary.

But if we step back and start the thought in verse 12, another vital layer is added to this passage:

Therefore, let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall.

Read that part first because preceding the encouragement is a dire warning. “Take heed lest (you) fall.” It’s not just that all temptations are common to all people, but that ANY temptation is a real possibility for ANY person. Do you see the shift in mindset? Verse 12 reminds you that you are not above or immune to certain pulls or trials or wandering longings no matter how strong you may think yourself to be. You can never underestimate the depths of depravity lurking in your own heart. So be on guard. “Watch and pray” as Jesus taught his disciples in the garden “that you will not fall into temptation.”

Be warned, but also be encouraged. Because the eternal takeaway is that “GOD is faithful,” and, even in the baseness of our fallen world and in the sickness of our own human hearts, He has made and is making a way for you.

 

Echoes of Genesis Three

Image by klbz from Pixabay.

Our Maker determined that we should be
able to choose

Built with a will to select either the warmth and peace and providence of

perfect Presence

Or to choose to lean into the curiosity of

the other

and for that bend to bleed and to weep

to face futility and heart wars

and to be cast out.

He built us with this blessed choice mechanism

by His own choice

and I must assume the Almighty Creator was bound by no

outside requirement to do so

He gave us ears tuned to receive all the voices

not just His own

Crafted eyes that are able to take in

even the beauty of poisonous things 

things not meant for our frail consumption

Engineered minds that can step outside the curtain of

His proven faithfulness and love

to wonder wanderingly,

“did He really say . . .?”

So I have questions

Questions that swim all around “why”

Because even now in this moment

I am able to use those heaven-ordained faculties to

choose to consider “why did He do that?”

Is it sin to think such?

Because here we are

the progeny of the first chasm created

continuing to choose the divide

Still hiding among trees

having again discovered a new layer of shame and regret

of dirtiness

And the eternal Eyes see and saw it all

Yes, Sovereignty is a certain thing

It’s a thing my heart grasps only with slippery fingers

and yet I do believe that “it is good”

Even today, He calls to me from beyond questions

and I hear the Spirit’s hovering whisper

beckoning us all

like He did in ages gone

with a plan already shaped and

completed

as from the brink of eternity’s shore

through nails and sweat and sacred blood

He chooses again and again and forevermore to reach out

asking for an answer He already knows:

“where are you?”

 

Again. - a Poem, a Plea

Image by Lars Nissen from Pixabay.

How do you talk yourself into trying again?

Whether to make a friend

Or to trust in love

Or to sketch out the perfect landscape

Or to blanket a blank page with your brilliant nonsense

 

How do you will such bravery to be?

When the mirror mocks you

When time *tsks* its taunting finger in your face

When you have grown admittedly lazy and

The sparkling silver shows not your wisdom but your weakness, your weariness

 

How can you talk yourself back out onto the ledge?

To remember once more how to fully forget yourself

To stop overthinking and leap again into that fantastical unknown

To dare to believe that flight could be possible this time around

That this landing might actually stick and grow deep roots and bear sweet fruit

 

How do you shut down and shut up the patterns of the past?

And do away with the demons that tripped up your progress

And close your eyes tight enough to not notice the ghosts hovering

And hold in a big breath with your chest punched high

To then finally exhale all the years and scars and every sly thing that has pressed STOP

 

How?

How do you muster the madness to try it again?