My Very Un-Political Post

"The Spirit teaches me to yield my will entirely to the will of the Father.  He discovers to me how union with God's will is union with God Himself; how entire surrender to God's will is the Father's claim, the Son's example, and the true blessedness of the soul." 
 -Andrew Murray

“Teacher,” the man replied, “I’ve obeyed all these commandments since I was young.” Looking at the man, Jesus felt genuine love for him. “There is still one thing you haven’t done,” he told him. “Go and sell all your possessions and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” At this the man’s face fell, and he went away sad, for he had many possessions.     - Mark 10:20-22

It's April 11, 2020.  Tomorrow is Easter Sunday.   The nation and the world are in the middle of the COVID-19 (coronavirus) pandemic.   Just a few days ago the governor of Michigan extended the executive orders.   For three weeks Michigan residents were issued a "Shelter in Place" order.    We could go to stores, travel freely, and purchase take out food.  Schools have been closed for four weeks now in an attempt to slow the spread of this virus.

But on Monday there was a tightening of those executive orders. Restrictions have been placed on what I can purchase.  Someone else has decided what is "essential" for me to buy or what services I receive.   Groceries, essential.    Bug spray, not essential.   McDonalds, essential.   Vegetable seeds, not essential.  Fuel, essential.  My annual physical checkup, not essential.  

Like I promised, this is not a political post.  So stay with me...  I have my own personal thoughts, opinions, and response to these executive orders, but I'm not using this platform for that purpose. 

The thing that interests me so much is that people were, for the most part, okay with the executive orders last week.  They had "partial freedom."  For all intents and purposes their comfort level wasn't affected.   But a line was crossed for them this week.  I think everyone has their own line.  For some it was being denied the right to travel to their second home that they rightfully own.   For others it was being denied the right to complete their home improvement projects that they had started when they were laid off work a few weeks ago.   For some it's the continued restriction on gathering sizes, forbidding them to congregate and worship, especially on Easter weekend, the signature holiday of Christianity.  People are coming out of the woodwork (mostly on social media because that's the primary source of communication we have right now), loudly declaring "the governor has gone too far!"... "Our constitution is being violated!"... You get the idea.  People are ticked.  They're fighting mad.  They're willing to give up some rights, at least temporarily.  But they're not willing to give up this many rights.   In the minds of many, what is being asked of us - demanded of us - is inappropriate.  

And as I think about all the people who are voicing their frustration about this, I've decided that I do the same thing with God.   In the words of James 1:8, "My loyalty is divided between God and the world, and I am unstable in everything I do". As Easter approaches I think of the example Jesus gave us when He prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane as His arrest, beating, and death grew closer.  "Not my will but yours be done, Father."   His was a model of complete surrender to God, a complete relinquishment of all His rights, even His right to live.  He didn't submit to an executive order, but to the will of a Good Father who asks us to lay down all our rights so that we could know the Way of Surrender.  As counter-intuitive as that sounds, the Way of Surrender is the best way because it forces us toward God.   


But I respond to God just like some people are responding to executive orders.  I'm okay with a "reasonable" amount of surrender to God.   Yes I can stop swearing, be nicer to people, and attend church on a semi-regular basis.  Heck, I'll even pray and read my Bible.  That's appropriate and acceptable.    But to surrender my money?   To surrender that hurt that I experienced all those years ago?   To surrender my dreams and goals?  To surrender my anger and unforgiveness toward that person? To surrender my sexuality?  To surrender my right to control?!?!   Who does God think He is?!?!?   

Well, He's God.  

And much like the Rich Young Ruler (see the scripture above), I sometimes think that God goes too far in demanding things from me.  The Rich Young Ruler followed all the important rules.   I do that too.    He even ran to Jesus and fell at His feet.   I do that too.  He asked the hard question of "How can I inherit eternal life?".  I ask Jesus the hard questions too.  But like the Rich Young Ruler, sometimes the answer makes me sad.   Jesus' answer is that we have to give up everything.  The point of that story in Mark 10 isn't that you have to give up your money.   No, the point is much bigger than that.   The point is that God is asking you to give up all your rights.  

For me it's the right to be right.   The right to be treated fairly.  The right to have the things that I've worked for. The right to be respected.  The right to be compensated for my "spiritual work."    

I can only assume that I'm starting to step on toes.  But in God's economy I believe that relinquishing rights isn't a bad thing.  It's actually a marvelous, freedom-giving thing!   I know that sounds backwards, that relinquishing rights can bring freedom.    But if Romans 6 is true (I believe it is) then I'm actually a spiritual slave when I hold onto to all my rights.  Here's what Romans 6:16-18 says:

"Don’t you realize that you become the slave of whatever you choose to obey? You can be a slave to sin, which leads to death, or you can choose to obey God, which leads to righteous living.  Thank God! Once you were slaves of sin, but now you wholeheartedly obey this teaching we have given you. Now you are free from your slavery to sin, and you have become slaves to righteous living."

So throw politics out the window.  I'm speaking to you in spiritual terms right now.   What are you a slave to?   What are you choosing to obey?   Are you holding onto your own rights, your own stuff?   Or are you a slave to "righteous living?"   Are your loyalties divided between God and the world?   Or is your heart focused on serving Him well?  Are you unstable in everything you do?    Or are you standing firm on His Truth and believing that surrendering your will and your rights is truly the best thing to do?  

My prayer for you - and for me - this Easter is that we would wave a white flag of surrender and give up all our rights, all our will.  That we would wholeheartedly obey His teaching and become free to live as slaves of righteousness.     

Me and My Unquiet Heart: Laying Down an Anxious Spirit

I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears.   - Psalm 34:4

I didn't grow up observing Lent.  Now as an adult, it's one of the most intentional times of the year for me.  It's interesting to me that even though it falls in the Hebrew month that symbolizes joy and fruitfulness, Lent itself is recognized by the church as a time of repentance and sorrow.  I guess the thing that intrigues me even more is that these two contrasting themes can and do beautifully coexist within my heart.   

God has been teaching me a lot of lessons lately.   If my spiritual life were to be compared to a college education, I feel like I'm currently earning a triple major with a double minor!   He's teaching me about Himself, how He loves me and extends mercy unconditionally, how to relate to others, how I interact with my own thoughts, how even my own experiences can deceive me when not viewed through the lens of Scripture... I thought this season of life was going to be "down time" for me, but God had other plans.  

Today God highlighted yet another lesson.   I spent the day minding my own business, working on sermon prep, creating powerpoint presentations, finalizing upcoming travel plans, searching for community resources, and doing some supplemental reading to help augment my Bible study. I didn't think much of my day until a friend texted me asking if I was okay.  She said I'd been "awfully quiet," and she just wanted to check on me.   I was vaguely confused by her text  for just a moment and responded that I didn't have anything to be "unquiet" about. But all of the sudden I realized how much I thoughtlessly reach out to people out of anxiety.  Sure, I send texts and make phone calls because I genuinely care for people.   But often times keeping in constant contact stems out of fear that someone will up and leave me without my consent.  So I need to know they're still there, still willing to talk to me, still being my friend, still loving me, still not leaving me.    

It feels pathetic and too vulnerable to admit that.  To admit that I actually want - or even need - people to love me.  And anxiety somehow fuels that.  It was the exclamation point of the lesson when another good friend of mine chuckled a little too readily last night when I mentioned I didn't think I struggled "too much" with anxiety.  She laughed.  I laughed with her but inside I was smarting, hurt by knowing my anxiety was so evidently on display for others to see.  Deep sorrow followed by genuine repentance accompanied me to bed last night and woke up with me this morning.  

So today, when I received that text checking in because I'd been quiet all day, my sorrow and repentance had to make room for joy and fruitfulness. Just last week, I asked God to dissolve my old ways of thinking.  I specifically used the word dissolve because I told God I didn't think I could handle an abrupt change.   Basically, I asked Him go easy on me!   I realized that for the first time in a long time - maybe weeks or months or years - I experienced no anxiety over any relationships today.  Even when I had to cancel plans with a friend for tonight... I was sad, but not anxious.   

And when I realized that, joy came.  There was still a remnant of sorrow and maybe even regret of all the things anxiety has stolen from me, namely the ability to genuinely enjoy my relationships for what they are.   But that sorrow had to make room for joy.  And then came the awareness of fruitfulness... The fruit of peace and self-control.   I sought the Lord and asked Him to dissolve my old ways of thinking... He is certainly answering me and delivering me from fear.    

Ash Wednesday: Beautiful Things out of the Dust

 "...He will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise instead of despair. In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks that the Lord has planted for his own glory."   Isaiah 61:3

Today is Ash Wednesday, which marks the beginning of Lent.  Today is also the first day of the month of Adar, which is the Hebrew month of Joy.   

The past few weeks have been filled with long, difficult conversations with God. Conversations about expectations, perceptions, passion, motivation... and submission and surrender.  Lots and lots of conversation about submission and surrender.   God seems to have stopped being subtle with me.   In whatever season this is that I currently find myself, there are no whispers or secret codes or hard-to-decipher analogies.   Instead it seems like God has picked up one of those Little Caesar's signs that the high school kids wave on the side of the road to get you to stop in and grab a pizza.    God has that sign, a bright orange background with block letters emblazoned on the front if it, waving it at my windshield as I sit at a stoplight waiting for the red light to turn green...  "SURRENDER!  SUBMIT!  LAY IT ALL DOWN!"   No subtlety, this God of mine.    The scene doesn't feel very joyful in my mind. 

Tonight as I sat through an Ash Wednesday service at a church not my own, God again made sure to bring His sign to wave in front of my face and over my heart.    I heard Him say again, "Surrender!  Submit! Lay it all down!"  It's not a barking command as much as a firm invitation.   I heard His  invitational words again as I and a few hundred others sang out the lyrics to a song:  "You make beautiful things. You make beautiful things out of the dust. You make beautiful things. You make beautiful things out of us."

And as I sang, all the lessons I've been learning were laying before me.  He finally had my attention.   And finally, fearful hesitation gave way to joyful surrender as I realized that all of my expectations, perceptions, passions, and motivations... they really are dust.   But when I submit them to Him, He makes something beautiful out of them. It's taken me twenty years to learn that submitting to God doesn't mean I'm settling for second best.  Surrendering to Him is actually giving myself permission to receive God's very best for me.  My plans and expectations pale in comparison to His.  He's the God who formed all of creation ex nihilo, out of nothing.  Certainly He can take my plans and form something beautiful.     And that, my friends, is a joyous thing. 

So today on the first day of Lent, I choose to lay down all those neatly organized plans I've composed for myself.   All the alphabetical, color-coded, laminated outlines for my life (if you know me well you realize that's not much of an exaggeration)...  He gets to have them.   I am confident He will make beautiful things out the dust, and it will all be for His glory.  Oh, the joy that floods my soul now that I've realized the power and beauty of surrender.