Do you ever worry that you might be missing something?
Not your keys or your favourite TV show but something more important... something you're supposed to be doing.
I worry about that.
When I read my Bible and then look around at my life I start to wonder. Is it ok that I'm working at a secular job and not really doing much of consequence in relation to eternity?
Then I remember something that happened in my past...
Years ago I was in Tofino working as a salmon farm tech with a pretty unique crew. There was Mel the site manager. He was 7 feet tall with a wandering glass eye. Roger. He was an ex-Navy seal who had once been fired out of a submarine torpedo tube. "Larry" was on the lam from the law for practicing as a sex psychologist without any credentials. Nick, I don't remember anything strange about him except that he sometimes brought his wife out with him... and oh yeah she was a witch. Not to say that she was mean but rather that she could cast spells and such. Then Dave, Ren, Glenn and me.
After some time the company decided that they were going to shut down the farms in the area where we worked. As you can imagine morale and productivity plummetted. Mel quit and Roger and Nick got temporary promotions.
My newly promoted supervisors would stay in the house and watch TV and expected all of us to do the same. Once when I was going out to feed the salmon Nick asked me "Where are you going? Its raining out there."
It was weird, I felt guilty for not working hard and I felt guilty for even working at all.
Then one day out of the blue a strange boat showed up. I was feeding when the boat pulled up to the site and Nick and the rest of the guys came scurrying out of the house. Turns out it was a senior manager with the company. He came out to talk to me and said he had been travelling around and I was the only one that he had found feeding fish.
Long story short when they shut all the sites down I was one of the few guys who kept my job and got a transfer to another site.
I like to think about that experience because it might be analogous to how I feel now. I feel like I'm not doing much I'm no Billy Graham, I'm not smuggling Bibles into North Korea or helping to build a new church but I am teaching my kids and the few kids at Sunday school Biblical truths.
Peter became a disciple of Jesus in John 1:42 but still worked as a fisherman until Luke 5:8 and then when asked, he left everything including his greatest success.
Maybe its not so important what I do but that I'm willing to do whatever I'm asked.
Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain. - 1 Corinthians 15:58
So do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded. You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what He has promised. - Hebrews 10:35-36
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Jawbone heap
The story of Samson has always interested me. In particular, the episode when he tore a lion limb from limb and then later scraped some honey out of its decaying carcass. He ate it and gave some to his parents but neglected to tell them that he found it in what would amount to the ancient equivalent of road kill on a hot desert road.
I’ve spent some time reading this over and thinking about it and trying to discover what this means. I've come to the conclusion that it's the key to the whole story.
After eating the honey Samson went to marry a Philistine woman. Normally, Samson shouldn’t be looking for a wife among the oppressors of his people but God intended this because “He was seeking an occasion against the Philistines” – Judges 14:4. It appears that Samson was a judge with one purpose, to basically drive a crooked stick into a hornet’s nest.
And he was good at it. When he wasn’t killing lions, he was tying foxes tails together with torches, breaking down gates or killing Philistines. The rest of his time was spent chasing women.
At one point he fought an army with nothing but a jawbone in his hand. After the dust settled he surveyed the heaped up bodies and proclaimed that he had killed one thousand men, tossed the jawbone down and named the place “Jawbone heap”. And then he was thirsty. So thirsty, he felt he was going to die and so “he called to LORD and said, “Thou hast given me this great deliverance by the hand of Thy servant, and now shall I die of thirst and fall into the hands of the uncircumcised?” But God split the hollow place that is in Lehi so that water came out of it. When he drank, his strength returned and he revived. Therefore, he named it En-hakkore, which is in Lehi to this day. So he judged Israel twenty years in the days of the Philistines.”
The enemy is still roaming about like a young lion looking for someone to devour. God can give us superhuman strength to defeat the lion but here’s the rub… Samson went back and turned and looked at the decaying corpse off to the side of the road when he should’ve just put it in the rear view mirror and not looked back. He was curious and he saw some temptation in it. His whole life was about looking for pleasure in all the wrong places. Like taking honey from a corpse.
Sometimes he got it right. When he called on God at En-hakkore which means “spring of the caller” God gave him water and this seems to have given Samson the strength to avoid his destructive pleasures for twenty years.
God should always be the source for our strength and refreshment and not the world. When He gives us the victory we shouldn’t look back but have the wisdom to flee youthful lusts instead. I am often quick to ask God for strength but wisdom is greater than strength. Wisdom can keep you from getting into situations where you need it.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
an unoriginal sacrifice
“A son honours his father and a servant his master. Then if I am a father, where is My honour? And if I am a master, where is My respect?” Says the LORD of hosts to you, O priests who despise My name . But you say, “How have we despised Thy name?”
“You are presenting defiled food upon My altar.” But you say, “How have we defiled Thee?” In that you say, “The table of the LORD is to be despised.”
“But when you present the blind for sacrifice, is it not evil? And when you present the lame and the sick, is it not evil? Why not offer it to your governor? Would he be pleased with you? Or would he receive you kindly? says the LORD of hosts. – Malachi 1:6-8
Last week, a few days before harvest, a toxic plankton bloom hit one of my farms killing a tenth of the salmon we were raising. Like a tree casting its fruit to the ground before harvest. Instead of harvesting we spent the whole week removing a half a million pounds of dead fish.
On the outside I displayed an attitude of determined motivation. But on the inside, the mix of disappointment, pressure, and exhaustion; produced a feeling in me that is best described as melancholy despair. Now, after two days rest, I feel fine but in my Bible reading I came across the passage of scripture in Malachi quoted above and I believed it had meaning for me.
God doesn’t ask me to sacrifice animals because Jesus sacrificed Himself for me but what does He ask me to sacrifice?
Therefore I urge you brothers, in view of God’s mercy to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God – this is your spiritual act of worship. – Romans 12:1
I find sometimes I offer God whatever’s left in my day. Time that I wouldn’t offer my work or even myself. I’m ashamed to say I have never even fasted or spent a substantial amount of time in prayer. I’ve fasted a few times for work when I haven’t had time to eat breakfast or lunch but never for God.
I’m going to have to make some changes to prevent my company from suffering more of these kind of losses and more importantly hopefully no one figures out I’m to blame for this last one. If I see any bones in the office on Monday I’ll turn and run straight out of there. (sound of bones rattling in a small leather pouch then spilling onto the boardroom table) “The bones tell me… Hey where’s he going?”
“Will a man rob God? Yet you are robbing Me! But you say, “How have we robbed Thee? In tithes and offerings. You are cursed with a curse, for you are robbing Me, the whole nation of you!
Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, so that there may be food in My house, and test me now in this,” says the LORD of hosts, “if I will not open for you the windows of heaven, and pour out for you a blessing until it overflows.
Then I will rebuke the devourer for you, so that it may not destroy the fruits of the ground; nor will your vine in the field cast its grapes” says the LORD of hosts. – Malachi 3:8-11
Post script
I originally had titled this blog "Lame sacrifices" thinking that title was a clever play on words, but I happened to do a search and came across this blog --> Lame sacrifices where someone has written basically exactly the same thing six months ago. Right down to the same bible verses and title! I'm afraid to look any further in fear that I will discover more evidence that I am an unoriginal blogger.
“You are presenting defiled food upon My altar.” But you say, “How have we defiled Thee?” In that you say, “The table of the LORD is to be despised.”
“But when you present the blind for sacrifice, is it not evil? And when you present the lame and the sick, is it not evil? Why not offer it to your governor? Would he be pleased with you? Or would he receive you kindly? says the LORD of hosts. – Malachi 1:6-8
Last week, a few days before harvest, a toxic plankton bloom hit one of my farms killing a tenth of the salmon we were raising. Like a tree casting its fruit to the ground before harvest. Instead of harvesting we spent the whole week removing a half a million pounds of dead fish.
On the outside I displayed an attitude of determined motivation. But on the inside, the mix of disappointment, pressure, and exhaustion; produced a feeling in me that is best described as melancholy despair. Now, after two days rest, I feel fine but in my Bible reading I came across the passage of scripture in Malachi quoted above and I believed it had meaning for me.
God doesn’t ask me to sacrifice animals because Jesus sacrificed Himself for me but what does He ask me to sacrifice?
Therefore I urge you brothers, in view of God’s mercy to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God – this is your spiritual act of worship. – Romans 12:1
I find sometimes I offer God whatever’s left in my day. Time that I wouldn’t offer my work or even myself. I’m ashamed to say I have never even fasted or spent a substantial amount of time in prayer. I’ve fasted a few times for work when I haven’t had time to eat breakfast or lunch but never for God.
I’m going to have to make some changes to prevent my company from suffering more of these kind of losses and more importantly hopefully no one figures out I’m to blame for this last one. If I see any bones in the office on Monday I’ll turn and run straight out of there. (sound of bones rattling in a small leather pouch then spilling onto the boardroom table) “The bones tell me… Hey where’s he going?”
“Will a man rob God? Yet you are robbing Me! But you say, “How have we robbed Thee? In tithes and offerings. You are cursed with a curse, for you are robbing Me, the whole nation of you!
Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, so that there may be food in My house, and test me now in this,” says the LORD of hosts, “if I will not open for you the windows of heaven, and pour out for you a blessing until it overflows.
Then I will rebuke the devourer for you, so that it may not destroy the fruits of the ground; nor will your vine in the field cast its grapes” says the LORD of hosts. – Malachi 3:8-11
Post script
I originally had titled this blog "Lame sacrifices" thinking that title was a clever play on words, but I happened to do a search and came across this blog --> Lame sacrifices where someone has written basically exactly the same thing six months ago. Right down to the same bible verses and title! I'm afraid to look any further in fear that I will discover more evidence that I am an unoriginal blogger.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Not today
She halted before a pool called Rushy-pond, flanked by the ends of two hedges; a railing ran through the centre of the pond, dividing it in half. Over the railing she saw the low green country; over the green trees the roofs of the town; over the roofs a white flat façade, denoting the entrance to the county jail. On the roof of this front specks were moving about; they seemed to be workmen erecting something. Her flesh crept.
She descended slowly, and was soon amid corn-fields and pastures. In another half hour, when it was almost dusk, she reached the White Hart, the first inn of the town on that side. – The withered arm, Thomas Hardy
I’ve been thinking about something lately. A question that won’t go away. Why aren’t there any miracles today? This supernatural void is so glaring that there’s even an atheist website called “Why doesn’t God heal amputees”. Do we not need miracles anymore?
The story quoted above is about a young woman with a withered arm named Gertrude. She tries every medicine known to man, desperate to be set free from her ailment. She needs a miracle but even though she goes to church she never prays for one. At the end of her rope she breaks down and goes in search of a conjurer named Trendle. The same conjurer who had told her that her arm was cursed.
Trendle’s house was reached at last, however: he was not indoors, and instead of waiting at the cottage, she went to where his bent figure was pointed out to her at work a long way off. Trendle remembered her, and laying down the handful of furzeroots which he was gathering and throwing into a heap, he offered to accompany her in her homeward direction, as the distance was considerable and the days were short. So they walked together, his head bowed nearly to the earth, and his form of a colour with it.
“You can send away warts and other excrescences I know,” she said; “why can’t you send away this?” And the arm was uncovered.
“There is only one chance of doing it known to me. It has never failed in kindred afflictions, - that I can declare. But it is hard to carry out, and especially for a woman.”
“Tell me!” said she.
“You must touch with the limb the neck of a man who’s been hanged.”
She started a little at the image he had raised.
Some people will tell you that miracles do happen today, just not here.
I attended a BBQ recently where someone said exactly that. Two teachers from the Christian school that our kids attend who had been away on sabbatical said they had actually observed miraculous healings. And even heard of dead people coming back to life. I’m not sure what you’re supposed to say when someone drops a bomb like that on your conversation. It fell like an atom bomb and came to a crashing thud in our circle of folding chairs. I made a point of looking around at the group of fairly standard Christians and studied their reactions.
The general response was “Wow! That’s great” followed by an attempt to change the subject. Some had a faraway look in their eyes and I imagine they were trying to decide if the teacher was lying, mad as a hatter or slow coming to a punch line. I like discussing difficult questions so instead of allowing the conversation to transition to something lighter I kicked at the explosive canister lying at our feet. “And so why don’t those things happen here?”
“I’m not sure… maybe we don’t expect it to” was the reply.
My wife says I was out of line. She says, (and I quote) “if you are attending a purely social gathering and you see that a subject is making people uncomfortable, then you should leave it alone, you should not deliberately seek to stir up a hornets nest”. I guess most people don’t want to talk about stuff like that at a BBQ. They want to talk about sports, their favourite TV show or some other trivial matter. It was of no consequence because the rest of the group wouldn’t continue discussing the subject and so I’m still left wondering what the answer is.
By this time the young woman’s state was such that a grey mist seemed to float before her eyes, on account of which and the veil she wore, she could scarcely discern anything: it was as though she had nearly died, but was held up by a sort of galvanism.
“Now!” said a voice close at hand, and she was just conscious that the word had been addressed to her. By a last strenuous effort she advanced, at the same time hearing persons approaching behind her. She bared her poor curst arm; and (the hangman), uncovering the face of the corpse, took Gertrude’s hand, and held it so that her arm lay across the dead man’s neck, upon a line the colour of an unripe blackberry, which surrounded it.
Most people that I know have given up on magic and spells. We’re much more scientific, more logical, more technologically advanced today. We trust our Doctors and modern medicine. I’d still rather trust God, I’d rather He still healed us.
I’d rather Jesus still did things like this…
And He entered again into the synagogue; and there was a man there which had a withered hand. And they watched Him, whether He would heal him on the Sabbath day; that they might accuse Him.
And He saith unto the man which had the withered hand, “Stand forth”.
And He saith unto them, “Is it lawful to good on the sabbath days, or to do evil? To save a life, or to kill?” But they held their peace.
And when He had looked round about on them with anger, being grieved for the hardness of their hearts, He saith unto the man, “Stretch forth thine hand”. And he stretched it out: and his hand was restored whole as the other. – Mark 3:1-5
She descended slowly, and was soon amid corn-fields and pastures. In another half hour, when it was almost dusk, she reached the White Hart, the first inn of the town on that side. – The withered arm, Thomas Hardy
I’ve been thinking about something lately. A question that won’t go away. Why aren’t there any miracles today? This supernatural void is so glaring that there’s even an atheist website called “Why doesn’t God heal amputees”. Do we not need miracles anymore?
The story quoted above is about a young woman with a withered arm named Gertrude. She tries every medicine known to man, desperate to be set free from her ailment. She needs a miracle but even though she goes to church she never prays for one. At the end of her rope she breaks down and goes in search of a conjurer named Trendle. The same conjurer who had told her that her arm was cursed.
Trendle’s house was reached at last, however: he was not indoors, and instead of waiting at the cottage, she went to where his bent figure was pointed out to her at work a long way off. Trendle remembered her, and laying down the handful of furzeroots which he was gathering and throwing into a heap, he offered to accompany her in her homeward direction, as the distance was considerable and the days were short. So they walked together, his head bowed nearly to the earth, and his form of a colour with it.
“You can send away warts and other excrescences I know,” she said; “why can’t you send away this?” And the arm was uncovered.
“There is only one chance of doing it known to me. It has never failed in kindred afflictions, - that I can declare. But it is hard to carry out, and especially for a woman.”
“Tell me!” said she.
“You must touch with the limb the neck of a man who’s been hanged.”
She started a little at the image he had raised.
Some people will tell you that miracles do happen today, just not here.
I attended a BBQ recently where someone said exactly that. Two teachers from the Christian school that our kids attend who had been away on sabbatical said they had actually observed miraculous healings. And even heard of dead people coming back to life. I’m not sure what you’re supposed to say when someone drops a bomb like that on your conversation. It fell like an atom bomb and came to a crashing thud in our circle of folding chairs. I made a point of looking around at the group of fairly standard Christians and studied their reactions.
The general response was “Wow! That’s great” followed by an attempt to change the subject. Some had a faraway look in their eyes and I imagine they were trying to decide if the teacher was lying, mad as a hatter or slow coming to a punch line. I like discussing difficult questions so instead of allowing the conversation to transition to something lighter I kicked at the explosive canister lying at our feet. “And so why don’t those things happen here?”
“I’m not sure… maybe we don’t expect it to” was the reply.
My wife says I was out of line. She says, (and I quote) “if you are attending a purely social gathering and you see that a subject is making people uncomfortable, then you should leave it alone, you should not deliberately seek to stir up a hornets nest”. I guess most people don’t want to talk about stuff like that at a BBQ. They want to talk about sports, their favourite TV show or some other trivial matter. It was of no consequence because the rest of the group wouldn’t continue discussing the subject and so I’m still left wondering what the answer is.
By this time the young woman’s state was such that a grey mist seemed to float before her eyes, on account of which and the veil she wore, she could scarcely discern anything: it was as though she had nearly died, but was held up by a sort of galvanism.
“Now!” said a voice close at hand, and she was just conscious that the word had been addressed to her. By a last strenuous effort she advanced, at the same time hearing persons approaching behind her. She bared her poor curst arm; and (the hangman), uncovering the face of the corpse, took Gertrude’s hand, and held it so that her arm lay across the dead man’s neck, upon a line the colour of an unripe blackberry, which surrounded it.
Most people that I know have given up on magic and spells. We’re much more scientific, more logical, more technologically advanced today. We trust our Doctors and modern medicine. I’d still rather trust God, I’d rather He still healed us.
I’d rather Jesus still did things like this…
And He entered again into the synagogue; and there was a man there which had a withered hand. And they watched Him, whether He would heal him on the Sabbath day; that they might accuse Him.
And He saith unto the man which had the withered hand, “Stand forth”.
And He saith unto them, “Is it lawful to good on the sabbath days, or to do evil? To save a life, or to kill?” But they held their peace.
And when He had looked round about on them with anger, being grieved for the hardness of their hearts, He saith unto the man, “Stretch forth thine hand”. And he stretched it out: and his hand was restored whole as the other. – Mark 3:1-5
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Two-faced toast
This Mother’s day our kids wanted to make breakfast for their mother. So my daughter took mom’s order… Coffee and toast.
When it was ready to go they decided they would use a metal serving plate with a locking metal cover to serve their mom in bed. None of us could’ve imagined what a bad idea this would prove to be.
They all paraded in, my daughter carrying the coffee and my son carrying the toast. When he went to lift the lid off it was locked and he kind of struggled to open it with one hand. As he struggled with it he inclined it ever so slightly and unbeknownst to all of us the glass plate had slid inside up against one side of the cover. That was also precisely the moment that his older brother decided to help remove the lid. This was all that was required to tip the balance in favour of calamity when the lid was finally removed. The toast thus unfettered flew quickly sideways and as is commonly known turned exactly upside down and headed for the floor. There was, of course, in that brief instance of time a great effort by all to catch the flying toast but this only produced the inenviable result of also spilling coffee.
We all had a good laugh, cleaned up the mess and started over. I pretended to find it funny so everyone would think I had a good attitude too but my nerves felt exposed and raw. One of my sons started making the second piece of toast and asked my daughter what mom wanted.
“Toast with peanut butter on the bottom and jam on the top”, She said.
When it was happening I was vaguely aware of this conversation taking place it was only later when I replayed it in my mind that I fully understood the significance of the miscommunication that ensued.
“Toast with peanut butter on the bottom and jam on the top?” he asked confused “Are you sure that’s what she wants?”
“Yup” she answered. When the toast was ready she came out to take it to her mom “Huh?.. You put peanut butter on the bottom?”
Now my ears perked up and I realized he had made a double-sided piece of toast. Literally peanut butter on the bottom, or one side and then flipped it over and put jam on the top… on the other side!
I’m ashamed to say this is when I lost my composure and freaked out just a little bit… “Why would you do that?!” “Use the brain God gave you!” “Of course she wouldn’t want it on both sides!”
My daughter wisely chastised me, “Daddy don’t yell and ruin Mother’s day”,. I stopped, took a deep breath and apologized to the two of them.
It’s not smart to bottle your feelings up and pretend like you don’t feel angry. I know it’s ok to be angry. But It’s definitely not ok to lose control. I’m supposed to be a good example to my kids but sometimes my example instead of how to behave the first time is how to apologize later.
In your anger do not sin – Eph 4:26a
Fathers do not provoke your children, lest they become discouraged – Colossians 3:21
When it was ready to go they decided they would use a metal serving plate with a locking metal cover to serve their mom in bed. None of us could’ve imagined what a bad idea this would prove to be.
They all paraded in, my daughter carrying the coffee and my son carrying the toast. When he went to lift the lid off it was locked and he kind of struggled to open it with one hand. As he struggled with it he inclined it ever so slightly and unbeknownst to all of us the glass plate had slid inside up against one side of the cover. That was also precisely the moment that his older brother decided to help remove the lid. This was all that was required to tip the balance in favour of calamity when the lid was finally removed. The toast thus unfettered flew quickly sideways and as is commonly known turned exactly upside down and headed for the floor. There was, of course, in that brief instance of time a great effort by all to catch the flying toast but this only produced the inenviable result of also spilling coffee.
We all had a good laugh, cleaned up the mess and started over. I pretended to find it funny so everyone would think I had a good attitude too but my nerves felt exposed and raw. One of my sons started making the second piece of toast and asked my daughter what mom wanted.
“Toast with peanut butter on the bottom and jam on the top”, She said.
When it was happening I was vaguely aware of this conversation taking place it was only later when I replayed it in my mind that I fully understood the significance of the miscommunication that ensued.
“Toast with peanut butter on the bottom and jam on the top?” he asked confused “Are you sure that’s what she wants?”
“Yup” she answered. When the toast was ready she came out to take it to her mom “Huh?.. You put peanut butter on the bottom?”
Now my ears perked up and I realized he had made a double-sided piece of toast. Literally peanut butter on the bottom, or one side and then flipped it over and put jam on the top… on the other side!
I’m ashamed to say this is when I lost my composure and freaked out just a little bit… “Why would you do that?!” “Use the brain God gave you!” “Of course she wouldn’t want it on both sides!”
My daughter wisely chastised me, “Daddy don’t yell and ruin Mother’s day”,. I stopped, took a deep breath and apologized to the two of them.
It’s not smart to bottle your feelings up and pretend like you don’t feel angry. I know it’s ok to be angry. But It’s definitely not ok to lose control. I’m supposed to be a good example to my kids but sometimes my example instead of how to behave the first time is how to apologize later.
In your anger do not sin – Eph 4:26a
Fathers do not provoke your children, lest they become discouraged – Colossians 3:21
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Earworms
How do you recognize a false prophet?
I heard a story about a woman and her son that made me wonder about this. She had an experience in her congregation that really bothered her.
(Cue soundtrack, “Brother Love’s travelling salvation show by Neil Diamond)
Hot august night
And the leaves hanging down and the grass on the ground smellin’ sweet
move up the road
to the outside of town and the sound of that good gospel beat
I guess her pastor had invited a guest speaker who was supposed to be a prophet to pray and speak prophecy over the children in his congregation
Room gets suddenly still
And when you’d almost bet you could hear yourself sweat
He walks in
The gathered faithful with their children all in a line, he prays for each of them one by one. The parents smile or shed tears of joy as they hear him say to their children the usual “God has great plans for you” or “You will meet someone who will soon make a strong impression on you” or “The archangel Michael has some golden plates for you”. It was all fairly standard until he got to her son, and then the story takes an odd turn. He put his hand on the boy’s head and began to pray.
A worried look crept across his face.
Eyes black as coal
And when he lifts his face every ear in the place
Is on him
He avoided any of the aforementioned affirmations,
Starting soft and slow
like a small earthquake
said nothing to the young boy and said to his mother instead
and then he lets go
and half the valley shakes
“You need to pray for him every single day!”
Nice.
I wonder how he decided to choose that boy to receive that “word”. Did he pick him randomly? Or was it the way he was dressed? Was it the way his mother brought him forward full of hope and love for her son? Maybe he has some ridiculous pattern. I wish someone had called him out
Even if you believe God still speaks through prophets, did any of God’s prophets in scripture ever speak like this? Sure their words were like salt in a wound when they rebuked Kings and nations but they were pretty clear about what was wrong and what would happen next.
And though I have the gift of prophecy and understand all mysteries and all knowledge and though I have all faith so that I could remove mountains but have not love. I am nothing. – 1 Corinthians 13:2
And what is not a result of love?
There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves torment. But he who fears has not been made perfect in love – 1 John 4:18
This guy used a negative prophecy, if you want to call it that, to try and prove he was legit but most others seem to want to scratch an itch in people's ears. These guys sooth and massage Christians with their prosperity and healing messages. The result is that people are content to stay where they are and keep their eyes fixed on their material collections and the health of their bodies. It feels good to snuggle into a comfy pew, close your eyes and hear the fervent man on the stage rock the mic and boldly proclaim, “You know what God has for you?”
“Yes”, you may answer, “An eternity spent worshipping His Son”
“Er… yes”, he replies and then louder “but I mean in this world!”
“Oh,” you say “uh… trouble?”
“No sir! Spirit of unbelief, I rebuke you! Favour!”
“Favour! Favour! Favour!..”
(Camera focuses on the clock on the wall both hands do a couple quick laps around)
“… Favour! Favour! Favour!”
If God still speaks through prophets, If He still heals people or works miracles I don’t believe it’s through these guys. Jesus said John was the greatest prophet who ever lived and if he lived today would he wear an Armani suit, drive a Lexus or have an air-conditioned doghouse? Probably a safe bet to say no. But if you dare say “Uh… excuse me sir? I don’t think what you’re saying or doing lines up with scripture?” You’ll be sure to get told you’re calling the work of the Holy Spirit the work of the devil.
Here’s a quick test: Do they confess that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh? (1 John 4:2), Do they speak as the world and does the world listen to them? (1 John 4:5), Do they love their fellow Christians? (1 John 4:7-8), Do they have God’s Spirit? (1 John 4:13), Do they confess that Jesus is the Son of God? (1 John 4:15), Do they fear? (1 John 4:18), Do they say with their mouth “I love God” and hate their brother with their actions? (1 John 4:20)
Sits a ragged tent
Where the aint no trees
And that gospel group
Telling you and me
Its Love, Brother love, said Brother Love’s travellin’ salvation show
Pack up the babies grab the old ladies
everyone goes, everyone knows its Brother Love’s show
Brothers, I said Brothers
Now you got yourself two good hands
And when your brother is troubled
You got to reach out your one hand for him
'Cause that's what it's there for
And when your own heart is troubled
You got to reach out your other hand
Reach it out to the Man up there
'Cause that's what He's there for
Take my hand in yours Lord, walk with me this day
In my heart I know, I will never stray
I heard a story about a woman and her son that made me wonder about this. She had an experience in her congregation that really bothered her.
(Cue soundtrack, “Brother Love’s travelling salvation show by Neil Diamond)
Hot august night
And the leaves hanging down and the grass on the ground smellin’ sweet
move up the road
to the outside of town and the sound of that good gospel beat
I guess her pastor had invited a guest speaker who was supposed to be a prophet to pray and speak prophecy over the children in his congregation
Room gets suddenly still
And when you’d almost bet you could hear yourself sweat
He walks in
The gathered faithful with their children all in a line, he prays for each of them one by one. The parents smile or shed tears of joy as they hear him say to their children the usual “God has great plans for you” or “You will meet someone who will soon make a strong impression on you” or “The archangel Michael has some golden plates for you”. It was all fairly standard until he got to her son, and then the story takes an odd turn. He put his hand on the boy’s head and began to pray.
A worried look crept across his face.
Eyes black as coal
And when he lifts his face every ear in the place
Is on him
He avoided any of the aforementioned affirmations,
Starting soft and slow
like a small earthquake
said nothing to the young boy and said to his mother instead
and then he lets go
and half the valley shakes
“You need to pray for him every single day!”
Nice.
I wonder how he decided to choose that boy to receive that “word”. Did he pick him randomly? Or was it the way he was dressed? Was it the way his mother brought him forward full of hope and love for her son? Maybe he has some ridiculous pattern. I wish someone had called him out
Even if you believe God still speaks through prophets, did any of God’s prophets in scripture ever speak like this? Sure their words were like salt in a wound when they rebuked Kings and nations but they were pretty clear about what was wrong and what would happen next.
And though I have the gift of prophecy and understand all mysteries and all knowledge and though I have all faith so that I could remove mountains but have not love. I am nothing. – 1 Corinthians 13:2
And what is not a result of love?
There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves torment. But he who fears has not been made perfect in love – 1 John 4:18
This guy used a negative prophecy, if you want to call it that, to try and prove he was legit but most others seem to want to scratch an itch in people's ears. These guys sooth and massage Christians with their prosperity and healing messages. The result is that people are content to stay where they are and keep their eyes fixed on their material collections and the health of their bodies. It feels good to snuggle into a comfy pew, close your eyes and hear the fervent man on the stage rock the mic and boldly proclaim, “You know what God has for you?”
“Yes”, you may answer, “An eternity spent worshipping His Son”
“Er… yes”, he replies and then louder “but I mean in this world!”
“Oh,” you say “uh… trouble?”
“No sir! Spirit of unbelief, I rebuke you! Favour!”
“Favour! Favour! Favour!..”
(Camera focuses on the clock on the wall both hands do a couple quick laps around)
“… Favour! Favour! Favour!”
If God still speaks through prophets, If He still heals people or works miracles I don’t believe it’s through these guys. Jesus said John was the greatest prophet who ever lived and if he lived today would he wear an Armani suit, drive a Lexus or have an air-conditioned doghouse? Probably a safe bet to say no. But if you dare say “Uh… excuse me sir? I don’t think what you’re saying or doing lines up with scripture?” You’ll be sure to get told you’re calling the work of the Holy Spirit the work of the devil.
Here’s a quick test: Do they confess that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh? (1 John 4:2), Do they speak as the world and does the world listen to them? (1 John 4:5), Do they love their fellow Christians? (1 John 4:7-8), Do they have God’s Spirit? (1 John 4:13), Do they confess that Jesus is the Son of God? (1 John 4:15), Do they fear? (1 John 4:18), Do they say with their mouth “I love God” and hate their brother with their actions? (1 John 4:20)
Sits a ragged tent
Where the aint no trees
And that gospel group
Telling you and me
Its Love, Brother love, said Brother Love’s travellin’ salvation show
Pack up the babies grab the old ladies
everyone goes, everyone knows its Brother Love’s show
Brothers, I said Brothers
Now you got yourself two good hands
And when your brother is troubled
You got to reach out your one hand for him
'Cause that's what it's there for
And when your own heart is troubled
You got to reach out your other hand
Reach it out to the Man up there
'Cause that's what He's there for
Take my hand in yours Lord, walk with me this day
In my heart I know, I will never stray
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Treading water
I hate failing or losing at anything.
It seems strange that I never get used to it. Sometimes I think it would be nice to slip into a long complacency nap but I keep working. You know that feeling when you’re working out and pushing yourself to do one more repetition. Where does the strength come from to do one more? Or what's in us that finally wins the argument to give up and let go?
If I’m doing the same thing over and over my fruitless determination feels more like foolishness. Let me give you an example from my past:
One day when I was young I was sitting in the Kmart café with two of my teenage friends eating fries and gravy. The fries were served in a rectangular cardboard tray. The kind of tray they give you at the hospital when you feel sick to your stomach. It’s a small tray of fries when you’re a hungry teenager. It infinitely smaller when you’re thirteen with a burning appendix threatening to explode.
Anyways one of my friends decided it would be “funny” to light my cardboard tray of fries on fire. I think he wanted to see me panic and try to put it out. I watched him light the tray with interest. And I remember deciding that I wasn’t going to do anything but keep eating my fries from the flaming tray.
“Dude your fries are on fire”, he says
I kept eating my fries.
Now I don’t think I need to explain the discomfort that a normal person would feel sitting in a public cafeteria with a plate of food burning on their table. The fire first lit, was not that noticeable. But it grew unhindered and as it grew it eventually reached the areas moistened with gravy and then it began to smoke. And not white wispy cigarette smoke but dark black tire-burning smoke.
When my fire-loving friend finally broke down it was no slow crumbling erosion but a full rapid crushing ruin. Even now I can’t prevent myself from smiling as I see him in my memory frantically blowing and tamping out the fire.
I’ve heard it said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over while expecting different results. If that’s insanity how would one define sanity? Giving up? Sometimes determination carries the day but there are times when a new paradigm is required. That brings me to my next memory which I didn’t fully understand the meaning of until recently.
I had to do a swimming test for one of the courses I took at work and it involved various skills one of which was being able to tread water for something like two minutes. Treading water for two minutes may sound easy to some and maybe it is but I suggest you try it next time you’re in deep water. Two minutes is a long time to tread water.
I was still young and idealistic and gave it my full effort. I can imagine that I had no problem for the first 30 seconds but then I felt my ability to stay afloat drop off exponentially from there.
At this point I knew I wasn’t going to make it and so I had two choices: 1) Give up and swim to the edge of the pool or 2) Sink underwater and drown. I didn’t want to drown so I said to the trainer standing at the edge of the pool.
“I’m not going to make it”, puffing desperately
“You have to”, he returned coolly, “To pass this course you need to be able to tread water a minimum of two minutes”
“This can’t be right, this is impossible” I thought and then called out to him again “There’s no way I can do it”
At this point my exertions were reaching the limits of my ability. My arms and legs were tired, losing oxygen, beginning to fall out of synch and move inefficiently.
“What will you do if you’re in the ocean and you can’t get out?”, he asked
“I would just float on my back”, I argued
“Fine.” He said to my surprise, “do that then”
So with that I took a deep breath, filled my lungs with air and rested calmly on my back. I could’ve stayed afloat like this for hours. It would’ve been nice to know this at the beginning of the exercise.
We can’t fulfill God’s requirements for us through our own works. The water is real. I could sink in it and drown. But God provided a way for me to overcome the water, namely air. By filling my lungs with air I was able to stay afloat. In a similar way God has provided His Spirit to dwell in us and if we walk in the Spirit, are led by the Spirit and live by the Spirit we will not fulfill the lusts of the flesh. Instead we will display the fruit of the Spirit.
Action is required on my part but not strength.
It seems strange that I never get used to it. Sometimes I think it would be nice to slip into a long complacency nap but I keep working. You know that feeling when you’re working out and pushing yourself to do one more repetition. Where does the strength come from to do one more? Or what's in us that finally wins the argument to give up and let go?
If I’m doing the same thing over and over my fruitless determination feels more like foolishness. Let me give you an example from my past:
One day when I was young I was sitting in the Kmart café with two of my teenage friends eating fries and gravy. The fries were served in a rectangular cardboard tray. The kind of tray they give you at the hospital when you feel sick to your stomach. It’s a small tray of fries when you’re a hungry teenager. It infinitely smaller when you’re thirteen with a burning appendix threatening to explode.
Anyways one of my friends decided it would be “funny” to light my cardboard tray of fries on fire. I think he wanted to see me panic and try to put it out. I watched him light the tray with interest. And I remember deciding that I wasn’t going to do anything but keep eating my fries from the flaming tray.
“Dude your fries are on fire”, he says
I kept eating my fries.
Now I don’t think I need to explain the discomfort that a normal person would feel sitting in a public cafeteria with a plate of food burning on their table. The fire first lit, was not that noticeable. But it grew unhindered and as it grew it eventually reached the areas moistened with gravy and then it began to smoke. And not white wispy cigarette smoke but dark black tire-burning smoke.
When my fire-loving friend finally broke down it was no slow crumbling erosion but a full rapid crushing ruin. Even now I can’t prevent myself from smiling as I see him in my memory frantically blowing and tamping out the fire.
I’ve heard it said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over while expecting different results. If that’s insanity how would one define sanity? Giving up? Sometimes determination carries the day but there are times when a new paradigm is required. That brings me to my next memory which I didn’t fully understand the meaning of until recently.
I had to do a swimming test for one of the courses I took at work and it involved various skills one of which was being able to tread water for something like two minutes. Treading water for two minutes may sound easy to some and maybe it is but I suggest you try it next time you’re in deep water. Two minutes is a long time to tread water.
I was still young and idealistic and gave it my full effort. I can imagine that I had no problem for the first 30 seconds but then I felt my ability to stay afloat drop off exponentially from there.
At this point I knew I wasn’t going to make it and so I had two choices: 1) Give up and swim to the edge of the pool or 2) Sink underwater and drown. I didn’t want to drown so I said to the trainer standing at the edge of the pool.
“I’m not going to make it”, puffing desperately
“You have to”, he returned coolly, “To pass this course you need to be able to tread water a minimum of two minutes”
“This can’t be right, this is impossible” I thought and then called out to him again “There’s no way I can do it”
At this point my exertions were reaching the limits of my ability. My arms and legs were tired, losing oxygen, beginning to fall out of synch and move inefficiently.
“What will you do if you’re in the ocean and you can’t get out?”, he asked
“I would just float on my back”, I argued
“Fine.” He said to my surprise, “do that then”
So with that I took a deep breath, filled my lungs with air and rested calmly on my back. I could’ve stayed afloat like this for hours. It would’ve been nice to know this at the beginning of the exercise.
We can’t fulfill God’s requirements for us through our own works. The water is real. I could sink in it and drown. But God provided a way for me to overcome the water, namely air. By filling my lungs with air I was able to stay afloat. In a similar way God has provided His Spirit to dwell in us and if we walk in the Spirit, are led by the Spirit and live by the Spirit we will not fulfill the lusts of the flesh. Instead we will display the fruit of the Spirit.
Action is required on my part but not strength.
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