or, 'A Vacation at Camp is Not, for Many Reasons'.
or, 'Omnes Geniosos Melancolicos Esse.' [think Albrecht Durer]
[note- The bulk of this was written a week ago. The next update will come soon, and be more encouraging, yet strongly related to this message. So read both, but if you only have time to read one, wait and read the next- it'll be happier.]
I wanted to prove myself by leading worship for a week. I wanted to prove myself to the staff. I wanted my old friends to say, yep, I still want to be his friend. I wanted more recent friends to say, wow, I really like this guy. I wanted youth group leaders to say, man, he should lead at my church. I wanted the director to say, gosh, I wish he hadn't left. I wanted to be the hero, the provider, the savior and the accomplisher.
Of course, I am not 'THE' any of those, and a righteous, loving God let me know. Worship flopped for a couple days. Kids and leaders alike looked at the screen with distracted, let's-just-get-through-this faces.
And I crumbled. If I can't make people worship, if I can't hear God's voice, if I can't by my nature be worth befriending, then who am I? Where is my value?
I am blessed to have friends that take me back to the cross, because I fail at elementary Christianity all the time. I need Jesus, and have Him, and that's all I need for worship. I want to make my own value, to prove myself to others and to me. But I can't. God won't let me, because deep in my heart such striving stands on the lie that I am a self-made, self-saved, self-sufficient man. In fact, I am merely self-centered. All creation, salvation, and provision is by God's hand.
So my friends called me back to worship, and I tried. After I made sure the coast was clear, I turned up the Jars of Clay (intermingled with JJ Heller and Matt Gilman) and danced. Solo worship on the guitar is sometimes hard for me, because I'm so quick to make it cerebral ("what should I do next?"), and thus I depend on me again. Me attempting to dance worshipfully is too goofy for me to really worry about it much. It was good worship, I think. We can talk about that.
[Which makes me think- painting, music, dancing, photography, tongues- all of these are in some effect communication, yet can be communicative without recognizable language, the only language from which we can derive intellectual reasoning. So, maybe they are great candidates for worshipful expression because they allow us to step out of a cerebral enlightenment culture and engage with something outside of that. And not merely emotional either. They can be, but the arts (and tongues) seem to exist in some third realm. Perhaps something akin to spirit? I'm not sure....]
Anyway, God drew worship from us in the end, and it was good, and I was encouraged by many friends there. The end.
New subject, but connected:
Sometimes I fear that God doesn't move. Sometimes I fear that I have no sure salvation. Sometimes I fear that I've picked the wrong God. Sometimes I fear that God doesn't exist at all.
Nearly every aspect of my life points to the contrary. To faith. I have been in complete hidden sin, insecurity, and fear of being found out, yet freed by the gospel and told that I am forgiven. I have seen other lives freed by the gospel. I have seen physical healings- heck, I've been healed physically [thanks Andrew]. I've heard countless testimonies of hope and peace and love and joy and even of bodily resurrection [yes, frequently and recently, though not in the states].
Of all my experience and all my reason, I would expect these fears to be history. Yet these fears come, I think, as a cheap solution to frustration. I strive for God, sometimes hard, fervently, passionately. And when I don't see growth in the ways in which I think I should, I become frustrated. Fear and doubt release the pressure of unfulfilled expectations.
The problem is I doubt God instead of maintaining faith whilst being impatient.
In my experience, God's faithfulness is, well, faithful. My impatience is a better explanation for my frustrations.
Irrational fear makes for a very poor plaything. [thanks Chris].
And so I have resolved to fear no more without a valid threat, and to doubt no more without valid questions. Impatience is not valid.
No quarter for fear. Not even a dime.
Check out KJV/NASB translations of Prov 23:7.
-drew
[Expect a very good, hopeful update soon. Like tomorrow.]
Monday, July 26, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Give me the Flute: New Bern 4
Anything but me.
Insanity, it is said, is the repetition of events expecting different results.
I met a cessationalist. I like him. He theologically writes off many of my experiences, as my sociological "I" tries so often to do. So he and "I" get along just fine. But, my experiences have happened, externally verified. I prayed for healing, and honest people told me they got better. "Me" can't write it off, as much as "I" want to.
If you understood that last paragraph, you probably are into theology and sociology. Good on you. If not, I can't do much about it.
And so I find myself in the bottom of Sara's travel mug again, with words to speak yet nothing to bring, save that which I find in me. I hope it is more.
Anything but me, as long as it's not just coffee.
--
Anything but me.
For I cannot trust my heart,
nor my memory,
nor my eyes, nor my reason;
nor my emotions, nor my experience;
Anything but me.
For these I can manipulate;
these I can craft for my own.
These, and congestion and I have doubt.
These, and caffeine, and I have confidence.
I remember brokenness, yet I do not feel it now.
I remember healing, yet I fear failure.
How do I doubt that which I have seen?
How does Lazarus send me to the Pharisees? (John 11:46)
Can faith live in theory?
Faith when there is no work to be done?
Can I forge faith from expectation?
Might witness yield courage?
Oh, tell me a story, play me a song.
That I might feel, that I might see.
That I might believe without feeling or seeing.
Remind me of a constant God.
That I might look upon variance with laughter,
and hope. And joy.
--------------------
The biography of Jonathan Edwards makes me doubt my conversion. To have his heart, what I would give!
Here are some quotes from Edwards himself, that I copied into my journal last night, followed by introspective foils.
1-"I began to have a new kind of apprehensions [sic] and ideas of Christ, and the works of redemption, and the glorious way of salvation by him. An inward, sweet sense of these things, at times, came into my heart; and my soul was led away in pleasant views and contemplations of them. And my mind was greatly engaged to spend my time in reading and meditating on Christ, on the beauty and excellency of his person, and the lovely way of salvation by free grace in him."
-contrast to my mind, engaged so frequently in introspection, and prideful theology. 1 Corinthians 8:1- "We know that we all possess knowledge. Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up." Which do I have, and which does Edwards have? I am broken, here.
2-"And as I was walking there, and looking up on the sky and clouds, there came unto my mind so sweet a sense of the glorious majesty and grace of God, that I know not how to express it - I seemed to see them both in a sweet conjunction; majesty and meekness joined together: it was a sweet, and gentle, and holy majesty; and also a majestic meekness; an awful sweetness; a high, and great, and holy gentleness."
-I would probably look into the sky and think of weather, then of my desire for community and partnership, then of my struggles. Do his words not quicken your heart as they do mine? To have that heart.
3-"After this my sense of divine things gradually incresed, and became more and more lively, and had more of that inward sweetness. The appearance of everything was altered; there seemed to be, as it were, a calm, sweet cast, or appearance of divine glory, in almost every thing. God's excellency, his wisdom, his purity and love, seemed to appear in every thing; in the sun, moon, and stars; in the clouds, and blue sky; in the grass, flowers, trees; in the water, and all nature; which used greatly to fix my mind. I often used to sit and view the moon for continuance; and in the day, spent much time in viewing the clouds and sky, to behold the sweet glory of God in these things; in the mean time, singing forth, with a low voice my contemplations of the Creator and Redeemer."
-AHH! I desire that. To want to be in love. It is an odd sensation, yet known to man in all too familiar frames.
-4 (here's the kicker) "I felt then a great satisfaction, as to my good state; but that did not content me. I had vehement longings of soul after God and Christ, and after more holiness, wherewith my heart seemed to be full, and ready to break; which often brought to my mind the words of the Psalmist [Psa. 119:20] 'My soul breaketh for the longing it hath'. I often felt a mourning and lamenting in my heart, that I had not turned to God sooner, that I might have had more time to grow in grace. My mind was greatly fixed on divine things; almost perpetually in the contemplation of them. I spent most of my time in thinking of divine things, year after year; often walking alone in the woods, and solitary places, for meditation, soliloquy, and prayer, and converse with God; and it was always my manner, at such times, to sing forth my contemplations. I was almost constantly in ejaculatory prayer, wherever I was. Prayer seemed to be natural to me, as the breath by which the inward burnings of my heart had vent."
-The beauty of this last paragraph brings me to my knees. This is not his boasting. This is honest. This is not crafted by his mind, but is an outpouring of Edward's heart (the Nee readers would call it Edwards 'spirit man', I think). I want to live with that kind of engagement with God. Oh how it matches with scripture! The joy of the Lord, all over him. It was from a position of contemplation of God's glory and worship that he lived and spoke and preached. And Jonathan Edwards changed the world.
I want no religion without joy. I want no conversion to law. It is grotesque to me. That is why, in seasons of melancholic waiting (read, when I feel depressed), faith is so far hidden within me, so far from expression. I have no faith in a god without joy. I think C.S. Lewis smells what I'm stepping in. And those who know the God I profess ought smell it too. He is a God of joy, and that's darn good. Creation was about joy, among other things (Gen 1:31). Christ crucified was about joy, among other things (Heb 12:2). The Holy Spirit is about joy, among other things (Gal 5:22). The kingdom is about joy, among other things (Rom 14:17).
Emma Goldman was wrong about many things. We all are. I think she missed some very crucial things, and it breaks my heart- because she was right about dancing. The quotation "A revolution without dancing is not a revolution worth having" (and it's many variants) is attributed to her. It's amazing, after her repeated disparagement of Christianity, she understands what should be there, better than many of those who believe. It is not a religion of fear, but of freedom. It is not of duty and law, but of freedom. Ask Piper. Heck, ask Edwards. Oh, to have Emma read Edwards! She longed for his heart, as I do; she simply failed to believe it could exist. All three of us longed for King David's heart, a recklessly abandoned worshiper. A revolutionary. A dancer.
Jonathan found it. Emma didn't. How then can I find it, and dance?
Correction- the heart found Jonathan (Acts 13:22). So, how then can I be found?
Ok wait. David, dancer, worshiper, warrior, king, poet, shepherd, harpist. He was a man "after God's own heart" (Acts 13:22). The Greek word for 'after' is 'kata', which has alternate definitions, including 'along the coast' and 'conforming'. This statement is not that David sought God's heart. He did, yes, but this phrase actually means that David had a heart conforming to that of God's. He had God's heart. A heart of joy, of celebration. Yes, yes, of justice, and peace and love, YES. But of revolutionary joy. Of dancing.
How can I make this joy well up in me? How do I increase in expectation? How do I make compassion, love, ring true? What can I do, what can I try? What do I need to do? Anything. I'll do anything.
Matthew 11:17 "We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not mourn."
I need but to listen. I need to hear the flute. Play loud God, play loud. Let me dance.
Fun post. I hope you enjoy it. I did.
-drew
Insanity, it is said, is the repetition of events expecting different results.
I met a cessationalist. I like him. He theologically writes off many of my experiences, as my sociological "I" tries so often to do. So he and "I" get along just fine. But, my experiences have happened, externally verified. I prayed for healing, and honest people told me they got better. "Me" can't write it off, as much as "I" want to.
If you understood that last paragraph, you probably are into theology and sociology. Good on you. If not, I can't do much about it.
And so I find myself in the bottom of Sara's travel mug again, with words to speak yet nothing to bring, save that which I find in me. I hope it is more.
Anything but me, as long as it's not just coffee.
--
Anything but me.
For I cannot trust my heart,
nor my memory,
nor my eyes, nor my reason;
nor my emotions, nor my experience;
Anything but me.
For these I can manipulate;
these I can craft for my own.
These, and congestion and I have doubt.
These, and caffeine, and I have confidence.
I remember brokenness, yet I do not feel it now.
I remember healing, yet I fear failure.
How do I doubt that which I have seen?
How does Lazarus send me to the Pharisees? (John 11:46)
Can faith live in theory?
Faith when there is no work to be done?
Can I forge faith from expectation?
Might witness yield courage?
Oh, tell me a story, play me a song.
That I might feel, that I might see.
That I might believe without feeling or seeing.
Remind me of a constant God.
That I might look upon variance with laughter,
and hope. And joy.
--------------------
The biography of Jonathan Edwards makes me doubt my conversion. To have his heart, what I would give!
Here are some quotes from Edwards himself, that I copied into my journal last night, followed by introspective foils.
1-"I began to have a new kind of apprehensions [sic] and ideas of Christ, and the works of redemption, and the glorious way of salvation by him. An inward, sweet sense of these things, at times, came into my heart; and my soul was led away in pleasant views and contemplations of them. And my mind was greatly engaged to spend my time in reading and meditating on Christ, on the beauty and excellency of his person, and the lovely way of salvation by free grace in him."
-contrast to my mind, engaged so frequently in introspection, and prideful theology. 1 Corinthians 8:1- "We know that we all possess knowledge. Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up." Which do I have, and which does Edwards have? I am broken, here.
2-"And as I was walking there, and looking up on the sky and clouds, there came unto my mind so sweet a sense of the glorious majesty and grace of God, that I know not how to express it - I seemed to see them both in a sweet conjunction; majesty and meekness joined together: it was a sweet, and gentle, and holy majesty; and also a majestic meekness; an awful sweetness; a high, and great, and holy gentleness."
-I would probably look into the sky and think of weather, then of my desire for community and partnership, then of my struggles. Do his words not quicken your heart as they do mine? To have that heart.
3-"After this my sense of divine things gradually incresed, and became more and more lively, and had more of that inward sweetness. The appearance of everything was altered; there seemed to be, as it were, a calm, sweet cast, or appearance of divine glory, in almost every thing. God's excellency, his wisdom, his purity and love, seemed to appear in every thing; in the sun, moon, and stars; in the clouds, and blue sky; in the grass, flowers, trees; in the water, and all nature; which used greatly to fix my mind. I often used to sit and view the moon for continuance; and in the day, spent much time in viewing the clouds and sky, to behold the sweet glory of God in these things; in the mean time, singing forth, with a low voice my contemplations of the Creator and Redeemer."
-AHH! I desire that. To want to be in love. It is an odd sensation, yet known to man in all too familiar frames.
-4 (here's the kicker) "I felt then a great satisfaction, as to my good state; but that did not content me. I had vehement longings of soul after God and Christ, and after more holiness, wherewith my heart seemed to be full, and ready to break; which often brought to my mind the words of the Psalmist [Psa. 119:20] 'My soul breaketh for the longing it hath'. I often felt a mourning and lamenting in my heart, that I had not turned to God sooner, that I might have had more time to grow in grace. My mind was greatly fixed on divine things; almost perpetually in the contemplation of them. I spent most of my time in thinking of divine things, year after year; often walking alone in the woods, and solitary places, for meditation, soliloquy, and prayer, and converse with God; and it was always my manner, at such times, to sing forth my contemplations. I was almost constantly in ejaculatory prayer, wherever I was. Prayer seemed to be natural to me, as the breath by which the inward burnings of my heart had vent."
-The beauty of this last paragraph brings me to my knees. This is not his boasting. This is honest. This is not crafted by his mind, but is an outpouring of Edward's heart (the Nee readers would call it Edwards 'spirit man', I think). I want to live with that kind of engagement with God. Oh how it matches with scripture! The joy of the Lord, all over him. It was from a position of contemplation of God's glory and worship that he lived and spoke and preached. And Jonathan Edwards changed the world.
I want no religion without joy. I want no conversion to law. It is grotesque to me. That is why, in seasons of melancholic waiting (read, when I feel depressed), faith is so far hidden within me, so far from expression. I have no faith in a god without joy. I think C.S. Lewis smells what I'm stepping in. And those who know the God I profess ought smell it too. He is a God of joy, and that's darn good. Creation was about joy, among other things (Gen 1:31). Christ crucified was about joy, among other things (Heb 12:2). The Holy Spirit is about joy, among other things (Gal 5:22). The kingdom is about joy, among other things (Rom 14:17).
Emma Goldman was wrong about many things. We all are. I think she missed some very crucial things, and it breaks my heart- because she was right about dancing. The quotation "A revolution without dancing is not a revolution worth having" (and it's many variants) is attributed to her. It's amazing, after her repeated disparagement of Christianity, she understands what should be there, better than many of those who believe. It is not a religion of fear, but of freedom. It is not of duty and law, but of freedom. Ask Piper. Heck, ask Edwards. Oh, to have Emma read Edwards! She longed for his heart, as I do; she simply failed to believe it could exist. All three of us longed for King David's heart, a recklessly abandoned worshiper. A revolutionary. A dancer.
Jonathan found it. Emma didn't. How then can I find it, and dance?
Correction- the heart found Jonathan (Acts 13:22). So, how then can I be found?
Ok wait. David, dancer, worshiper, warrior, king, poet, shepherd, harpist. He was a man "after God's own heart" (Acts 13:22). The Greek word for 'after' is 'kata', which has alternate definitions, including 'along the coast' and 'conforming'. This statement is not that David sought God's heart. He did, yes, but this phrase actually means that David had a heart conforming to that of God's. He had God's heart. A heart of joy, of celebration. Yes, yes, of justice, and peace and love, YES. But of revolutionary joy. Of dancing.
How can I make this joy well up in me? How do I increase in expectation? How do I make compassion, love, ring true? What can I do, what can I try? What do I need to do? Anything. I'll do anything.
Matthew 11:17 "We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not mourn."
I need but to listen. I need to hear the flute. Play loud God, play loud. Let me dance.
Fun post. I hope you enjoy it. I did.
-drew
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