Regarding what I've learned and wrestled with since this summer:
Saying "we're both right" could be a more positive spin on the same observations. Certainly, it would fit my preference for "yes and no" wisdom nuggets.
This time, however, my inner doubtful critic is prevailing over the diplomat-philosopher. I think our mutual illumination of inherent wrongness - differently expressed yet equally shared - is the most important insight eventually leading to positive things.
Some context: Though I chose against setting my alarm, I still managed to wake in time to attend yesterday's church staff meeting... and was very glad I did. Our "New City Catechism" video discussed the Ten Commandments and our inability to ever perfectly follow them, contrasted with Jesus' complete obedience in our place. Simple enough... but it sparked further conversation, and I even received a concrete answer to the question: are we as Christians still sinners?
Now, back to what I have to say to my teachers on the field:
You really were my teachers this summer; though I'm calling you "wrong" in this virtually private blog entry, my prayer is that the Lord is the one to guide and correct you in reality. I trust that He led me to be your student in all wisdom, and that honor is due for this unique opportunity to learn.
You claimed that you had a unique message (new creation/identity), which was the full gospel whereas you assumed that many of our churches had reduced it through guilt, complacency, and a "spirit of dead religion." I did not let offense (which you also call an evil spirit) take over my thinking, but tried to trust and consider your words. In fact, I genuinely wanted to. I had full confidence in God's leading to train with your organization, great respect for the supernatural signs following your ministry, and a serious determination to bring back any neglected aspect of the Gospel to my church family.
You said this is embracing the kingdom of heaven in its fullness (within our spirit) now, recognizing God's superiority over any influence of sin, and intuitively walking into the life of holiness Jesus bought for us. Who wouldn't want that?
...you didn't say very much about the kingdom of heaven consummated and eternally established. If you did, it was about the sensational events leading up to the end times. According to your book, this would be a revealing of our already-perfect spiritual likeness to Jesus, but you didn't say it was actually bringing anything new to our experience.
...you didn't take into account that part of our God's awesome might is not just to purge sin through His presence, but to work redemptively through mankind even while in a fallen state. You tried to emphasize His strength and minimize the presence of sin, but why do you even feel the need to artificially do that and box Him into our binary reasoning?
...you didn't clarify the means of holy living. Here we actually disagree the least: God gives us ability to escape temptation and live as slaves to righteousness. That said, it was only for a one-week class that you taught us Christian ethics of continually striving for excellence and crucifying sin... but then for the rest of 3 months you taught that this is instant and intuitive, only requiring that we realize our sinless spiritual identity.
You - who I love and value - have still taught some very strange things. You nullified the need for future fulfillment and a King who wipes away tears by falsely claiming heaven as your present experience. You supposedly identify the Spirit's sanctification over the body's shortcomings... yet in bitter irony, you pedestal your mind's attitude as what sets you apart from other believers and enables holy living. You confused confidence in our justified position and empowered indwelling with decrease of ourselves and magnification of our God leading to repentance.
But here is where I will turn on my own faults, because even if I feel like my side is more intellectually in the right, we too fall into a wrong heart and application of truth.
(I promise you, though I will critique myself in less words, that this took far more effort and honesty on my part than stopping short at "well, God led me to you so I could learn to work with different believers and balance my own theology [but not be corrected of any fundamental error].")
If my charge is that you are like an ancient Sadducee, unrealistic in your optimism of this life, irrational with your spirit/body dichotomy, and functionally elitist in your understanding that others lack... then I'm a modern Pharisee-- discouragingly somber in my view of the present day, personally dishonest to the spiritual standard I defend, and arrogant in my own doctrinal superiority.
(I don't say this just because I began this post by criticizing those with a different view; there's no small amount of careful thought and discussion behind all the thoughts of this entry... and my ordering is actually intentional, so that I rebuke my own default position as the final word. Rather, I'm referencing that my thinking was unduly defensive - and my gut instinctively uneasy - toward fellow believers who see differently in this regard, long before this post or the last summer.)
Again, I can put it in far less words, yet no less scathingly. You deny that sin's influence is there, thus allowing it a subtle foothold. I recognize that sin's influence is within me as a real problem... but I far too easily let it seize some corner of my life, excusing this disobedience on the basis that "no one is perfect" and "this way I remember I need Jesus."
You were partly right in calling out my complacency, then. Rather than perpetually writing how I'm more theologically correct about how wrong (sinful) our nature is, I need to partner with you in honoring the Lord's sacrifice with a life of worship and gratitude.
Yet I will add that just as I need you, you too need us. Whether you look at the Bible's words in Hebrew or Greek, there are twin words for repenting-- to feel regret (nacham / metamelomai) or to be separate and changed (shüv / metanoeō). As many Christians have learned in our generation, repentance is more than just feeling bad and saying you're sorry... but then again, the role of godly sorrow is by no means less valuable than action itself.
I know people who felt incredibly frustrated over and over with their hypocritical imperfection, but were no less transformed by the Lord toward spiritual maturity and good works. Perhaps they accelerated in that direction even moreso, due to their unforgettable dependency on Him.
By claiming there is no longer any sin nature within you and that any sinful action is only an aberration of your true identity, you save face before the King. He already paid for it and forgave us, true, yet your stoic self-reminder of this fact without any time for grieving should alarm you, just as my rationalization for its source in my inbetween-state of humanity should never be a place of stagnation.
Instead, you can help by lifting up me and others like me, to actually do something about it. If you let me, I can help you examine our simultaneous condition as saints and sinners before an infinitely big, loving, and able God. Together, we could accomplish a whole lot for His invading kingdom in this world, while also keeping humble hearts which don't burn out, and can serve alongside the myriad of church traditions desperately needing a bridge back into our shared mission and Biblical foundation.
That's what I'm hoping and praying for. We may or may not work together personally on it, but I definitely desire to honor your lessons and our time teaming up together by making this happen more in this universal Church we belong to.
And now I set aside my proverbial pen, to either trade it with putting my hands to the plow or dip into metaphorical ink for some other subject. Actually, as my articulate thoughts taper off and I halfheartedly attempt a conclusion, I feel urgently compelled to craft these ideas into the form of stories, for a seldom-listening world that desperately needs fresh parables.
Wednesday, November 16, 2016
Thursday, July 14, 2016
Talu: Aurora Road (Ode to Skyrim)
Who would name a land Skyrim?
What breed of mankind, to call horizon's end their home?
It is like a distant mirage made into an unfolding epic;
a realm entered in dreams, becoming the adventure of a lifetime
Today I walk in an alien country,
stand among mythic landscapes,
and carry the mantle of ancient hope.
Yet Yahweh was pleased to use a virtual world
like a Nordic saga, that stirred Tolkien's tales and Clive's chronicles before me,
as the haunting means that I might seek, and then cherish, something beyond.
Banners bleed red, fields washed white, corpses clad blue.
A winter of war divides sister from brother.
Do I offer my sword to Empire's armies?
Honoring those who have always ruled, and guarding a greater good,
Or am I summoned by conscience to serve the Stormcloak cause?
Respecting remembrance of their noble ways, and upholding the right to free worship.
My heart longs to cast my lot with rebels;
my soul stirs to usher in an exiled king.
What mystery, that a man once ascended to heaven.
How glorious, to stand on divine faith against all odds!
But my principles compel me to preserve order;
virtue requires a path of submission
Why liberate Nords only, when Elves are their neglected neighbors?
Who is truly pious: the violent zealot, or the gentle martyr?
No matter the allegiance I choose,
on the day of final conquest,
my spirit is torn as Skyrim's children.
Still, I embark on another new road.
Ambushes along the highway are a welcome challenge.
Clearing, cavern, and crumbling dungeon alike beckon curiosity.
With mastery of steel and spell, shadow and shout,
fear and frontier are both mine to conquer.
By aurora's lantern at night,
I emerge from the dungeon laden with treasure.
Beside kindled hearth in a storm,
I hail companions with news of a fully complete work.
A hundredfold bizarre feats, from tundra banks to forest peaks,
unceasingly whet my appetite for fresh wonder,
just as the simple delight of building home and family,
is enough for that moment to mingle restlessness with rest.
"What is better: to be born good,
or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?"
A forked tongue poses the philosophical question;
my primordial foe, the dragon, testing everything I am.
Of course, my identity is that I am reborn and righteous,
this by given grace, not my own force of will.
A truly wicked core could never be quelled within.
That said, I see beauty in the broken beginning of our story;
radiance springs forth from the sorrowful song of repentance;
captivation, that the Hero bore corrupt flesh to call us all clean.
I recognize the dual truth in your words, bronze serpent.
I acknowledge your aid in averting apocalypse, again.
I even offer thanks, for this fire-proven wisdom to carry in this world and the next.
Nonetheless, my blade remains raised against your kin,
as long as they insist on deceiving my own "mortal" kind,
to believe that your brood alone is eternal, when life beyond time is in our grasp!
In Tamriel's cold north or in Asia's distant east,
as long as the people tremble, who are sealed with a Breath superior to your own,
my blade remains raised against your kin.
What breed of mankind, to call horizon's end their home?
It is like a distant mirage made into an unfolding epic;
a realm entered in dreams, becoming the adventure of a lifetime
Today I walk in an alien country,
stand among mythic landscapes,
and carry the mantle of ancient hope.
Yet Yahweh was pleased to use a virtual world
like a Nordic saga, that stirred Tolkien's tales and Clive's chronicles before me,
as the haunting means that I might seek, and then cherish, something beyond.
Banners bleed red, fields washed white, corpses clad blue.
A winter of war divides sister from brother.
Do I offer my sword to Empire's armies?
Honoring those who have always ruled, and guarding a greater good,
Or am I summoned by conscience to serve the Stormcloak cause?
Respecting remembrance of their noble ways, and upholding the right to free worship.
My heart longs to cast my lot with rebels;
my soul stirs to usher in an exiled king.
What mystery, that a man once ascended to heaven.
How glorious, to stand on divine faith against all odds!
But my principles compel me to preserve order;
virtue requires a path of submission
Why liberate Nords only, when Elves are their neglected neighbors?
Who is truly pious: the violent zealot, or the gentle martyr?
No matter the allegiance I choose,
on the day of final conquest,
my spirit is torn as Skyrim's children.
Still, I embark on another new road.
Ambushes along the highway are a welcome challenge.
Clearing, cavern, and crumbling dungeon alike beckon curiosity.
With mastery of steel and spell, shadow and shout,
fear and frontier are both mine to conquer.
By aurora's lantern at night,
I emerge from the dungeon laden with treasure.
Beside kindled hearth in a storm,
I hail companions with news of a fully complete work.
A hundredfold bizarre feats, from tundra banks to forest peaks,
unceasingly whet my appetite for fresh wonder,
just as the simple delight of building home and family,
is enough for that moment to mingle restlessness with rest.
"What is better: to be born good,
or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?"
A forked tongue poses the philosophical question;
my primordial foe, the dragon, testing everything I am.
Of course, my identity is that I am reborn and righteous,
this by given grace, not my own force of will.
A truly wicked core could never be quelled within.
That said, I see beauty in the broken beginning of our story;
radiance springs forth from the sorrowful song of repentance;
captivation, that the Hero bore corrupt flesh to call us all clean.
I recognize the dual truth in your words, bronze serpent.
I acknowledge your aid in averting apocalypse, again.
I even offer thanks, for this fire-proven wisdom to carry in this world and the next.
Nonetheless, my blade remains raised against your kin,
as long as they insist on deceiving my own "mortal" kind,
to believe that your brood alone is eternal, when life beyond time is in our grasp!
In Tamriel's cold north or in Asia's distant east,
as long as the people tremble, who are sealed with a Breath superior to your own,
my blade remains raised against your kin.
Monday, June 20, 2016
Mathano: Akashi & JHT
I was ministering to a teenaged girl in Mongolia, when I noticed war was breaking out. Men launched crossbow bolts to impale one another in the distance, and battle lines brandishing their spears began to close in on us from all sides. Fortunately, I brought a car with me to the steppes.
We hastily threw ourselves into the vehicle, and events blurred until we found ourselves exiting a bus at evening time-- now in an curiously familiar urban environment, still somewhere in Asia. I turned to speak with her, but she ran beyond my sight in eagerness to take photos of the city. I approached a black American I found serving at a restaurant door, but he lost interest in the latter half of my story. I had no idea where I was or what I would do, but I walked right through that door undeterred.
Inside, the decoration was an extravagant blend of tradition European and Oriental styles. As I explored toward a back hallway, I saw rooms furnished even with couches and beds, clearly meant for a higher social status of patrons. I took the cue to seat myself toward the modest-by-comparison tables along the front window. A middle-aged man and his elderly mother sat with me. They attempted to teach me some of the local language. I tried in vain to discern the nation I was now in, thinking these were greeting phrases, but they were not.
"Akumen" and "Akashi."
I woke up from the dream, just as I was about to voice my surprise that I did not seem to be in Japan. As it turned out, when I looked up the words two days later, the second one actually is a real Japanese word that I never heard before. The first one did't result in any conclusive message, but the multiple meaningful results of the latter more than makes up for it.
As a noun, it primarily means proof, evidence, or vindication... of love or innocence, as examples. When used as a verb, it mean to testify, and specifically carries a Christian context. There's a city along the southern coast of the main island, by this name.
There was also a Christian, Japanese samurai named Akashi Takenori (surname comes first), born in 1566, who fought valorously, was pursued by enemies but never found, and refused to commit the traditional act of sicide because of his faith.
"Taylor, you are a Christian samurai...!"
"...there's a clear calling that the Lord wants to give you Asia. Go for it, man!"
It was a dream that brought me here, for the spiritual growth, practical training, and community support that's emboldened me for service in missions. Now another dream is giving me marching orders directly from my King.
With this objective in mind, I made sure when Overland Missions had a pile of unwanted books to collect everything I could related to Asia. So far it's all about China and one for Korea, which I am satisfied with for now, given their similarities of Eastern worldview and principles of packaging the Gospel. With unusual decisiveness, I settled on starting with the thickest of them all: Biography of James Hudson Taylor.
And wow. As if the dream and calling wasn't enough, now this life story of my fellow Taylor is ministering to me deeply. Also, my team took this Saturday to embark on a safari in Chobe Wildlife Park across the river in Botswana. Epic dreams, a brother in Christ I can't wait to hug in heaven-earth, and a myriad of majestic creatures in almost-Edenic tranquility. The Lord just knows how to wreck my soul in the best way with beautiful things.
...back to the book, though. I only knew he was an important early missionary to China, who pioneered the general trend of fulfilling the Great Commission not only along coastlands, but into the interior of foreign continents. What I didn't know is that, as silly as it would be to assume this just because he is a fellow Taylor, he and I have nearly identical spiritual experiences.
Born in a devout Christian household with all the outward disciplines as an inheritance, but by the time of adolescence with peer pressure, now inwardly festering with doubt and devoid of joy. Until at the age of seventeen, with the relentless kindness and intercession of others exposing a weakness, sudden comprehension of Jesus' complete grace flooded in.
Thereafter, trials remained, but both Taylor's have been carried and strengthened through these from faith to faith, and glory to glory. We realized eventually that our own effort is insufficient to overcome the influence of sin, though this is the exact deliverance promised to be finished and all-immersing. As we had nothing else to do except surrender, the Holy Spirit gave us a renewed hearts... not only to desire holiness, but to yearn for sharing our faith with the lost in other nations. And lastly, we have in common that romantic hopes were nurtured over years as we thought was God's provision for ministry, and then promptly crushed as a telling trial to trust His infinite goodness.
Recovering and redirecting from this emotional blow, He and I learned to know God as a true source of comfort and protection. For me, it's involved fundraising for seven-thousand quickly-provided dollars, with the commitment of venturing to another country for three months in community, among what turned out to be a substantially different doctrinal atmosphere (for better and worse). For Hudson, it looked like renting a cramped room in a slum neighborhood with meager porridge meals to maximize savings for China, giving away all that's left to the poor in need without ever reminding his employer for the overdue salary (instead, he only prays for God to bring remembrance), and eventually relocating himself to the metropolis of London though all his plans for lodging, medical school, and missions service were consistently uncertain. In either scenario, parallel character traits and nuggets of wisdom were developed.
It was soon after that step, believing the Bible's words that he need not worry for anything and will surely live in the land God gives, that Hudson was ready in faith and faithfulness to launch into China. He endured months of sea voyage with close calls for shipwrecks in a storm. He finally set foot on this land in the midst of a brutal civil war, but suffered loneliness, uncertainty of funds, and embarrassment for his dependent state upon a different missionary organization he had trouble relating with... but he was there, and learning language, and and a couple was on their way ch
For me, I wonder when that step will come, what my team will look like, and whether I'll be landing first in Japan, Mongolia, or Cambodia. All I know is that I closely relate with J. Hudson Taylor's journey and insights. I'm feeling inclined to simply return home, devote myself more fully to immediate ministry, and see if opportunities and counsel arise to guide me into missions in Asia - totally apart from my own planning - with the only initiative on my part being stewardship of relationships and walking forward unbound within active faith.
We hastily threw ourselves into the vehicle, and events blurred until we found ourselves exiting a bus at evening time-- now in an curiously familiar urban environment, still somewhere in Asia. I turned to speak with her, but she ran beyond my sight in eagerness to take photos of the city. I approached a black American I found serving at a restaurant door, but he lost interest in the latter half of my story. I had no idea where I was or what I would do, but I walked right through that door undeterred.
Inside, the decoration was an extravagant blend of tradition European and Oriental styles. As I explored toward a back hallway, I saw rooms furnished even with couches and beds, clearly meant for a higher social status of patrons. I took the cue to seat myself toward the modest-by-comparison tables along the front window. A middle-aged man and his elderly mother sat with me. They attempted to teach me some of the local language. I tried in vain to discern the nation I was now in, thinking these were greeting phrases, but they were not.
"Akumen" and "Akashi."
I woke up from the dream, just as I was about to voice my surprise that I did not seem to be in Japan. As it turned out, when I looked up the words two days later, the second one actually is a real Japanese word that I never heard before. The first one did't result in any conclusive message, but the multiple meaningful results of the latter more than makes up for it.
As a noun, it primarily means proof, evidence, or vindication... of love or innocence, as examples. When used as a verb, it mean to testify, and specifically carries a Christian context. There's a city along the southern coast of the main island, by this name.
There was also a Christian, Japanese samurai named Akashi Takenori (surname comes first), born in 1566, who fought valorously, was pursued by enemies but never found, and refused to commit the traditional act of sicide because of his faith.
"Taylor, you are a Christian samurai...!"
"...there's a clear calling that the Lord wants to give you Asia. Go for it, man!"
It was a dream that brought me here, for the spiritual growth, practical training, and community support that's emboldened me for service in missions. Now another dream is giving me marching orders directly from my King.
With this objective in mind, I made sure when Overland Missions had a pile of unwanted books to collect everything I could related to Asia. So far it's all about China and one for Korea, which I am satisfied with for now, given their similarities of Eastern worldview and principles of packaging the Gospel. With unusual decisiveness, I settled on starting with the thickest of them all: Biography of James Hudson Taylor.
And wow. As if the dream and calling wasn't enough, now this life story of my fellow Taylor is ministering to me deeply. Also, my team took this Saturday to embark on a safari in Chobe Wildlife Park across the river in Botswana. Epic dreams, a brother in Christ I can't wait to hug in heaven-earth, and a myriad of majestic creatures in almost-Edenic tranquility. The Lord just knows how to wreck my soul in the best way with beautiful things.
...back to the book, though. I only knew he was an important early missionary to China, who pioneered the general trend of fulfilling the Great Commission not only along coastlands, but into the interior of foreign continents. What I didn't know is that, as silly as it would be to assume this just because he is a fellow Taylor, he and I have nearly identical spiritual experiences.
Born in a devout Christian household with all the outward disciplines as an inheritance, but by the time of adolescence with peer pressure, now inwardly festering with doubt and devoid of joy. Until at the age of seventeen, with the relentless kindness and intercession of others exposing a weakness, sudden comprehension of Jesus' complete grace flooded in.
Thereafter, trials remained, but both Taylor's have been carried and strengthened through these from faith to faith, and glory to glory. We realized eventually that our own effort is insufficient to overcome the influence of sin, though this is the exact deliverance promised to be finished and all-immersing. As we had nothing else to do except surrender, the Holy Spirit gave us a renewed hearts... not only to desire holiness, but to yearn for sharing our faith with the lost in other nations. And lastly, we have in common that romantic hopes were nurtured over years as we thought was God's provision for ministry, and then promptly crushed as a telling trial to trust His infinite goodness.
Recovering and redirecting from this emotional blow, He and I learned to know God as a true source of comfort and protection. For me, it's involved fundraising for seven-thousand quickly-provided dollars, with the commitment of venturing to another country for three months in community, among what turned out to be a substantially different doctrinal atmosphere (for better and worse). For Hudson, it looked like renting a cramped room in a slum neighborhood with meager porridge meals to maximize savings for China, giving away all that's left to the poor in need without ever reminding his employer for the overdue salary (instead, he only prays for God to bring remembrance), and eventually relocating himself to the metropolis of London though all his plans for lodging, medical school, and missions service were consistently uncertain. In either scenario, parallel character traits and nuggets of wisdom were developed.
It was soon after that step, believing the Bible's words that he need not worry for anything and will surely live in the land God gives, that Hudson was ready in faith and faithfulness to launch into China. He endured months of sea voyage with close calls for shipwrecks in a storm. He finally set foot on this land in the midst of a brutal civil war, but suffered loneliness, uncertainty of funds, and embarrassment for his dependent state upon a different missionary organization he had trouble relating with... but he was there, and learning language, and and a couple was on their way ch
For me, I wonder when that step will come, what my team will look like, and whether I'll be landing first in Japan, Mongolia, or Cambodia. All I know is that I closely relate with J. Hudson Taylor's journey and insights. I'm feeling inclined to simply return home, devote myself more fully to immediate ministry, and see if opportunities and counsel arise to guide me into missions in Asia - totally apart from my own planning - with the only initiative on my part being stewardship of relationships and walking forward unbound within active faith.
Friday, June 3, 2016
Manthano: Discomfort of a Dragonslayer (II)
For that last night of our Pentacostal guest preacher, even though I received such a cool encouragement earlier, the way he was going about his teaching was enough that I walked out. Reluctantly, after a lot of prayer and ring-spinning, and only once it was clear he meant for people who confidently speak in tongues and we're ready to get Spirit-slain.
I felt a doom over my head, as I was now directly opposing and breaking one of our agreed rules... but I trusted the Lord to uphold and lead me. People still treated me with kindness, and my leader Casey offered total understanding and forgiveness. He encouraged me to still practice tongues in faith despite not feeling it, and I think I can do that out of trust and submission.
We had a different "Bapticostal" preacher that night, and it really wasn't bad. I think what he was teaching was really basic and carried some contradictions, but it wasn't attacking and didn't make a repeated push for H.S. baptism/anointing.
I don't feel like I have to fake so much now, even with all the weirdness I believe is going on. They're still fellow believers, with all the love of Christ and the ability to be holy vessels of the Spirit. At the end of that service, the preacher laid hands to pray and impart prophetic words. Some people fell down and there was some holy laughter going on (which can be super frustrating since it's a lack of self-control and causes disruption), but mostly it was something I was comfortable joining in when my leader prayed over me and encouraged to go up to the stage.
Looking back - between that favorite South African teacher inviting our whole class to pray and speak encouragement to one another that morning, the words my leader and another staff member prayed over me that night, and what was said to me once I walked up to the preacher - there are actually three messages I received which I want to remember. Even if their impulsive and emotional tendencies are what initiated them, these words proved effective to build me up in a time of need, so I'm open to how they very well could be Spirit-led.
1. "God broke down your walls built by fear of judgment"
My fellow student and friend Tessa told me this one. It's a bit odd but true; I've cared a lot about what people think throughout my life, although I feel forced to grow through it by being here and in this situation. I take it as encouragement to be myself even if it doesn't match their expression of spirituality, which they have only been gracious and supportive to in response. It's also an invitation to remain vulnerable with my friends here, since God has me here for ministering to them as well.
2. "The world is yours to explore and enjoy"
One of the staff members, JJ, said this over me as if directly spoken by God. He was referring to how I have a sense of wonder for everything He made. It was surprising, since I had just spent some quiet time seated on a rock in the middle of a thicket off the pathways, and I was thinking of myself as Radagast the Brown once again. Solomon too had a wisdom not just for spiritual things, but for animals and plants. He and Casey were agreeing that my mind is specially crafted to appreciate all creation, and that my calling will involve freely venturing across the diverse beauty in our world.
3. "You can do the work of an ox"
The preacher asked me when I approached what God has been speaking to me. I said he called me a dragonslayer, and he agreed that is a cool word. So he prayed for my ministry of the Gospel and confidence as a warrior, that my hands will be strengthened and I will do the work of an ox. Now, earlier in the week the South African pastor taught us about how the Hebrew character for "a" is a picture of a ox bearing a yoke (so when combined with "ba" for house in "abba", it means the ox bearing yoke is in the house). I realized that an ox is a very cool animal to relate with-- strong in a quiet way, steadfast against pressure, and faithful to serve. It is awesome then, that the preacher's prophetic encouragement used this picture for how I can endure right now and work right alongside Christ.
---
It's the next day now as I write. Someone new taught about how obedience in trials (like with Abraham and Isaac) displays a unique facet of who our God is. I think if I just pursue knowing and glorifying Jesus with my whole heart, and remember God as my King and Father who calls me to be a bold yet quiet warrior, then I have definitely discovered something from this week with all its encouragements and challenges.
Oh- and then right after writing all of this, we circle up and wash each other's feet, because there's a different way of seeing and speaking to someone from that perspective-- looking up at them, taking a servant role where they are master, and touching their dirty and calloused yet very sensitive soles. I realize that our teacher is the South African, quiet-Charismatic incarnation of C.S. Lewis. His wife tells me my name can also mean craftsman, and that God has filled me with His Spirit and I should never doubt the artistic gifts I've been entrusted with. My classmates tell me they love me, and are always glad when I break my silence to bring authoritative wisdom, or step out of my comfort zone to demonstrate radical faith.
I love them too. I will reconsider how creativity can play a role in my ministry, or just put my book idea of the Galaxtine onto full pages when I'm home. I'm not scared; I'm grateful to be here right now among these brothers and sisters.
I felt a doom over my head, as I was now directly opposing and breaking one of our agreed rules... but I trusted the Lord to uphold and lead me. People still treated me with kindness, and my leader Casey offered total understanding and forgiveness. He encouraged me to still practice tongues in faith despite not feeling it, and I think I can do that out of trust and submission.
We had a different "Bapticostal" preacher that night, and it really wasn't bad. I think what he was teaching was really basic and carried some contradictions, but it wasn't attacking and didn't make a repeated push for H.S. baptism/anointing.
I don't feel like I have to fake so much now, even with all the weirdness I believe is going on. They're still fellow believers, with all the love of Christ and the ability to be holy vessels of the Spirit. At the end of that service, the preacher laid hands to pray and impart prophetic words. Some people fell down and there was some holy laughter going on (which can be super frustrating since it's a lack of self-control and causes disruption), but mostly it was something I was comfortable joining in when my leader prayed over me and encouraged to go up to the stage.
Looking back - between that favorite South African teacher inviting our whole class to pray and speak encouragement to one another that morning, the words my leader and another staff member prayed over me that night, and what was said to me once I walked up to the preacher - there are actually three messages I received which I want to remember. Even if their impulsive and emotional tendencies are what initiated them, these words proved effective to build me up in a time of need, so I'm open to how they very well could be Spirit-led.
1. "God broke down your walls built by fear of judgment"
My fellow student and friend Tessa told me this one. It's a bit odd but true; I've cared a lot about what people think throughout my life, although I feel forced to grow through it by being here and in this situation. I take it as encouragement to be myself even if it doesn't match their expression of spirituality, which they have only been gracious and supportive to in response. It's also an invitation to remain vulnerable with my friends here, since God has me here for ministering to them as well.
2. "The world is yours to explore and enjoy"
One of the staff members, JJ, said this over me as if directly spoken by God. He was referring to how I have a sense of wonder for everything He made. It was surprising, since I had just spent some quiet time seated on a rock in the middle of a thicket off the pathways, and I was thinking of myself as Radagast the Brown once again. Solomon too had a wisdom not just for spiritual things, but for animals and plants. He and Casey were agreeing that my mind is specially crafted to appreciate all creation, and that my calling will involve freely venturing across the diverse beauty in our world.
3. "You can do the work of an ox"
The preacher asked me when I approached what God has been speaking to me. I said he called me a dragonslayer, and he agreed that is a cool word. So he prayed for my ministry of the Gospel and confidence as a warrior, that my hands will be strengthened and I will do the work of an ox. Now, earlier in the week the South African pastor taught us about how the Hebrew character for "a" is a picture of a ox bearing a yoke (so when combined with "ba" for house in "abba", it means the ox bearing yoke is in the house). I realized that an ox is a very cool animal to relate with-- strong in a quiet way, steadfast against pressure, and faithful to serve. It is awesome then, that the preacher's prophetic encouragement used this picture for how I can endure right now and work right alongside Christ.
---
It's the next day now as I write. Someone new taught about how obedience in trials (like with Abraham and Isaac) displays a unique facet of who our God is. I think if I just pursue knowing and glorifying Jesus with my whole heart, and remember God as my King and Father who calls me to be a bold yet quiet warrior, then I have definitely discovered something from this week with all its encouragements and challenges.
Oh- and then right after writing all of this, we circle up and wash each other's feet, because there's a different way of seeing and speaking to someone from that perspective-- looking up at them, taking a servant role where they are master, and touching their dirty and calloused yet very sensitive soles. I realize that our teacher is the South African, quiet-Charismatic incarnation of C.S. Lewis. His wife tells me my name can also mean craftsman, and that God has filled me with His Spirit and I should never doubt the artistic gifts I've been entrusted with. My classmates tell me they love me, and are always glad when I break my silence to bring authoritative wisdom, or step out of my comfort zone to demonstrate radical faith.
I love them too. I will reconsider how creativity can play a role in my ministry, or just put my book idea of the Galaxtine onto full pages when I'm home. I'm not scared; I'm grateful to be here right now among these brothers and sisters.
Wednesday, June 1, 2016
Manthano: Discomfort of a Dragonslayer
-----
It's been 3 weeks since the day I embarked out of the LA airport.
I've seen beautiful things-- living in a community, enjoying whole new landscapes of nature, venturing deep into the African bush, sharing Jesus with villagers who never heard His grace explained, and unpacking the fullness of our salvation in a classroom. I will take home from my training a reinforced and refreshed understanding of how our God gives us an identity more powerful than lingering sin or insecurities, and He does bring healing (a girl with malaria, weak and shiny with sweat, became dry and strong enough to walk away smiling once we opened our eyes).
I've also seen uncomfortable things, which I'm still cautiously examining. I want to be open to whatever ways God wants to blow my mind and teach me the power of the Holy Spirit. However... speaking out in an unintelligible prayer language, collapsing to the floor (whether from faintness or uncontrollable laughter), and repeatedly pressing for the whole congregation to receive that as an additional "baptism of the Holy Ghost/fire of God/anointing" are all things I'm unsure of.
I know friends who speak out in a prayer language (though much more quietly, without putting it on others, and with interpretation if shared to a congregation). I tried to open my mouth and say whatever was flowing from my spirit, as they taught it, but I've only felt insincere babbling or silence. I don't see how this practice brings a personal increase of faith, or why it should be exclusively understood as what Peter meant by "prayer in the Holy Spirit" or how Paul described the the Spirit groaning on our behalf.
I do know that we are immersed in the Holy Spirit, and this can be tangibly experienced through the laying on of hands. Leaders told me that I was empowered for ministry before this happened to me, but I can also see how it served as an affirmation of the Lord's presence and milestone for exponential growth that was already occurring through my discipleship.
Holy Spirit used Caleb and Madi, who know and love me, to be participants in this as they laid their touch very lightly while praying for holy fire to energize the personal ways I think and love. In it, I felt the lasting pressure of an embrace against my chest, and a warmth growing from inside my heart. It ended with Caleb touching my nose-- another very personalized component, evoking the endearment I shared in romantic affection. It was so powerful for me in its subtle simplicity.
The "anointing" I see here is delivered by a Pentacostal guest preacher, who has taught for two nights
already, and will continue for another two. He shouts at us for not being spiritually hungry enough, or not realizing our need for the Holy Spirit's help, or not realizing that our salvation should free us from slavery to sin. He places a hand on each persons head, or even pushes them back and forth, while repetitively calling out, "FIYAH! FIYAH OF GOD!".
It's a revival week of night services here, because we have Zambian tribal chiefs and the King of the Lunda from Congo all gathered. I pray they get something out of it... but I only saw the already expressive folks living on our base as the ones who fall down or break into helpless laughing/crying. That's sad, because the Holy Spirit and tongues was specifically shown in Acts to transmit across and bind together all people. And do we really need to keep spending time for special services to get refills; rather, shouldn't we just step into the fullness of spiritual power residing in us?
Anyway... I should write by now that I'm doing okay through all this. I don't feel right about it (the Pentacostal guy only briefly put his hand on my head while in the middle of saying how some of us need to know what the Word says, not just our preacher, before we are ready for anointing) but I rest knowing that I am already complete and called here by God! You don't need to worry or come rescue me, because the Lord has a reason for bringing me here... even if it is challenging, and not meant for more than 3 months.
And I was hoping that I could serve long-term with this organization. There's so much I already loved about their vision, and these first two weeks were like a honeymoon. Now I'm feeling somewhat heartbroken, if something they emphasize so highly from the pulpit isn't part of what we agree on. It disappointed me that when they could have edified these tribal leaders and missionaries with instruction... they instead preached conviction to an already agreeing choir and chased night after night a manufactured experience.
There were several other ideas taught about-- evil motives behind media, a blunt reprimand for anyone lukewarm to get kicked out, careless bashing of other denominations and 90% of the Church, prosperity blessings for some to be millionaires, guaranteed perfect health/healing because of the Spirit in us, and the erasing of our national identity in the kingdom. I hadn't heard them proclaim these things in their YouTube messages, but in this case they laughed at the jokes and affirmed what that preacher said, or the leader of this organization stood up and directly agreed, calling the guest preacher our drill sergeant even if it's hard. It's enough against my renewed heart and what I know of God's heart - plus the need for cultural sensitivity in missions to the unreached - that I must find a different team to partner with.
Honestly, at times I do feel like I want to be taken back home. I feel kind of fake right now, oddly familiar to what it was like to be at CCC's youth group while an atheist, a spiritual lifetime ago. Will they be okay with it if I never retry speaking a prayer language? I'll stay open to discovering if I'm wrong and God has something more, but I will keep my sincerity and conscience. You know me-- I like finding a balanced middle-ground.
I still love the quality of people here, and the bond formed by living together and going on an expedition (though I wouldn't compare it with time-tested, intentionally pursued companions waiting for me back home). I still learn new truths and internalize old ones about our God's longing for intimacy and adventure with us (just not from that one preacher). I still know what God already did in me, and I believe He is working through them... even in the worst-case that they are frequently engaging in something man-made and meaningless.
I messaged Ryan about it, and he encouraged me to test everything taught while keeping an open heart rather than rejecting it all. He thought there might be a non-obvious lesson in all this... perhaps remaining confident in my relationship to God and gentle character, when my peers surrounding me are so dramatic and loud. This morning I had a dream (you can bet I was praying for one of those again) with my Bible flipping to John where Jesus breathed the Holy Spirit on his disciples, but then I also saw the words "I am your anointing." I also read 1 Timothy 3, about Paul's key traits for church leaders, which were all characteristics of being quiet and controlled with an established walk with God in your private life.
So God is so good and present with me... and that said, A) there's good things to imitate at times in their boldness, and B) wherever I am in the future, I might very well minister to or with these believers who I can feel so irrationally wary of. I won't always be in a bubble of people who believe and behave as I do.
I love these particular people, and whatever the growth and lesson ends up being, my focused commitment with the next 2.25 months is to serve Jesus's church and savor the journey God leads me in. It should get better as we transition from revival services to more practical missions training and expeditions (I seriously loved the impact we were able to make in that last one through the Gospel)..
I needed to write out and post all of this for my own expression... but I also take comfort knowing you will read it, my friend, and think it right for you to pray for me in this weird trial that I can't broadcast to just anyone. It will work out for good.
Oh, and you might be amused to hear that our worship songs tend to last 10-15 minutes each, because thrice-repeated bridges and choruses, and even verses and ad-lib sections. It's crazy, but sounds pleasant somehow since they're skilled musicians and singing passionately can be fun.
---
Okay, it's been a day, and now an update is necessary.
Last night was even more awkward, as the preacher gave an altar call for "getting drunk in the Holy Ghost," so that people swayed and fell and went into laughing (though, I recall that being the same reaction as other nights).
Everyone gathered around and joined in somehow, even if at least one friend I know was just being open and laughing along with it in a natural sense. I stayed seated by myself, but praying to God for what he wanted me to do. I felt a sensation over my shoulders, like I was already cloaked with presence and power. I stayed and I felt this was most honest and sincere.
Now, my opposition to the practice (though moreso for the teaching behind it of required refilling) was quite obvious... and a few came by to talk to me, and there was some debating, but mostly a lot of love and encouragement for me to keep an openness about it.
Then this morning, our guest teacher from South Africa came up to the pulpit, and I like his style far better. He said the yelling and preaching last night was to get us to realize what we're given that allows us to access heaven, be just like Jesus, and to walk continually in that power after being born again and H.S baptism.
That, and he gently called a few people to stand one at a time, including me. He wanted to pray and prophesy over me, that I would understand how "this day in history was Taylor-made" for me, and more deeply comprehend my sonship, and that I'm made to be a dragonslayer... not limited by being small and handsome, but seeing myself in the mirror as someone lions will bow to. He prayed God would impart this truth beyond his words, apart from my own understanding (I'm still working to balance that one) and asked if I would receive this word... to which I nodded yes, and at the end he encouraged all of us for the way he sensed us being receptive.
Obviously, I appreciated the pun, and that freaking cool title, and how he didn't force anything on me, and the hovering lightness of his touch on me (like with Caleb and Madi). I was even somewhat asking God for me to be called out and hear some personal revelation, to learn if there is something more going on in all this.
Okay. I'm convinced there is something more. At the very least, God is being His big faithful self in ministering to me by His Spirit in the congregation... even if they're doing other weird stuff. Or maybe I was wrong and those emotional experiences with the Spirit are good. Either way, I receive those Taylored words of encouragement for walking as a warrior, and I know I want to bring some degree of what I'm experiencing back to Clovis Christian.
Grace and peace and love from Africa,
Taylor Lewis
It's been 3 weeks since the day I embarked out of the LA airport.
I've seen beautiful things-- living in a community, enjoying whole new landscapes of nature, venturing deep into the African bush, sharing Jesus with villagers who never heard His grace explained, and unpacking the fullness of our salvation in a classroom. I will take home from my training a reinforced and refreshed understanding of how our God gives us an identity more powerful than lingering sin or insecurities, and He does bring healing (a girl with malaria, weak and shiny with sweat, became dry and strong enough to walk away smiling once we opened our eyes).
I've also seen uncomfortable things, which I'm still cautiously examining. I want to be open to whatever ways God wants to blow my mind and teach me the power of the Holy Spirit. However... speaking out in an unintelligible prayer language, collapsing to the floor (whether from faintness or uncontrollable laughter), and repeatedly pressing for the whole congregation to receive that as an additional "baptism of the Holy Ghost/fire of God/anointing" are all things I'm unsure of.
I know friends who speak out in a prayer language (though much more quietly, without putting it on others, and with interpretation if shared to a congregation). I tried to open my mouth and say whatever was flowing from my spirit, as they taught it, but I've only felt insincere babbling or silence. I don't see how this practice brings a personal increase of faith, or why it should be exclusively understood as what Peter meant by "prayer in the Holy Spirit" or how Paul described the the Spirit groaning on our behalf.
I do know that we are immersed in the Holy Spirit, and this can be tangibly experienced through the laying on of hands. Leaders told me that I was empowered for ministry before this happened to me, but I can also see how it served as an affirmation of the Lord's presence and milestone for exponential growth that was already occurring through my discipleship.
Holy Spirit used Caleb and Madi, who know and love me, to be participants in this as they laid their touch very lightly while praying for holy fire to energize the personal ways I think and love. In it, I felt the lasting pressure of an embrace against my chest, and a warmth growing from inside my heart. It ended with Caleb touching my nose-- another very personalized component, evoking the endearment I shared in romantic affection. It was so powerful for me in its subtle simplicity.
The "anointing" I see here is delivered by a Pentacostal guest preacher, who has taught for two nights
already, and will continue for another two. He shouts at us for not being spiritually hungry enough, or not realizing our need for the Holy Spirit's help, or not realizing that our salvation should free us from slavery to sin. He places a hand on each persons head, or even pushes them back and forth, while repetitively calling out, "FIYAH! FIYAH OF GOD!".
It's a revival week of night services here, because we have Zambian tribal chiefs and the King of the Lunda from Congo all gathered. I pray they get something out of it... but I only saw the already expressive folks living on our base as the ones who fall down or break into helpless laughing/crying. That's sad, because the Holy Spirit and tongues was specifically shown in Acts to transmit across and bind together all people. And do we really need to keep spending time for special services to get refills; rather, shouldn't we just step into the fullness of spiritual power residing in us?
Anyway... I should write by now that I'm doing okay through all this. I don't feel right about it (the Pentacostal guy only briefly put his hand on my head while in the middle of saying how some of us need to know what the Word says, not just our preacher, before we are ready for anointing) but I rest knowing that I am already complete and called here by God! You don't need to worry or come rescue me, because the Lord has a reason for bringing me here... even if it is challenging, and not meant for more than 3 months.
And I was hoping that I could serve long-term with this organization. There's so much I already loved about their vision, and these first two weeks were like a honeymoon. Now I'm feeling somewhat heartbroken, if something they emphasize so highly from the pulpit isn't part of what we agree on. It disappointed me that when they could have edified these tribal leaders and missionaries with instruction... they instead preached conviction to an already agreeing choir and chased night after night a manufactured experience.
There were several other ideas taught about-- evil motives behind media, a blunt reprimand for anyone lukewarm to get kicked out, careless bashing of other denominations and 90% of the Church, prosperity blessings for some to be millionaires, guaranteed perfect health/healing because of the Spirit in us, and the erasing of our national identity in the kingdom. I hadn't heard them proclaim these things in their YouTube messages, but in this case they laughed at the jokes and affirmed what that preacher said, or the leader of this organization stood up and directly agreed, calling the guest preacher our drill sergeant even if it's hard. It's enough against my renewed heart and what I know of God's heart - plus the need for cultural sensitivity in missions to the unreached - that I must find a different team to partner with.
Honestly, at times I do feel like I want to be taken back home. I feel kind of fake right now, oddly familiar to what it was like to be at CCC's youth group while an atheist, a spiritual lifetime ago. Will they be okay with it if I never retry speaking a prayer language? I'll stay open to discovering if I'm wrong and God has something more, but I will keep my sincerity and conscience. You know me-- I like finding a balanced middle-ground.
I still love the quality of people here, and the bond formed by living together and going on an expedition (though I wouldn't compare it with time-tested, intentionally pursued companions waiting for me back home). I still learn new truths and internalize old ones about our God's longing for intimacy and adventure with us (just not from that one preacher). I still know what God already did in me, and I believe He is working through them... even in the worst-case that they are frequently engaging in something man-made and meaningless.
I messaged Ryan about it, and he encouraged me to test everything taught while keeping an open heart rather than rejecting it all. He thought there might be a non-obvious lesson in all this... perhaps remaining confident in my relationship to God and gentle character, when my peers surrounding me are so dramatic and loud. This morning I had a dream (you can bet I was praying for one of those again) with my Bible flipping to John where Jesus breathed the Holy Spirit on his disciples, but then I also saw the words "I am your anointing." I also read 1 Timothy 3, about Paul's key traits for church leaders, which were all characteristics of being quiet and controlled with an established walk with God in your private life.
So God is so good and present with me... and that said, A) there's good things to imitate at times in their boldness, and B) wherever I am in the future, I might very well minister to or with these believers who I can feel so irrationally wary of. I won't always be in a bubble of people who believe and behave as I do.
I love these particular people, and whatever the growth and lesson ends up being, my focused commitment with the next 2.25 months is to serve Jesus's church and savor the journey God leads me in. It should get better as we transition from revival services to more practical missions training and expeditions (I seriously loved the impact we were able to make in that last one through the Gospel)..
I needed to write out and post all of this for my own expression... but I also take comfort knowing you will read it, my friend, and think it right for you to pray for me in this weird trial that I can't broadcast to just anyone. It will work out for good.
Oh, and you might be amused to hear that our worship songs tend to last 10-15 minutes each, because thrice-repeated bridges and choruses, and even verses and ad-lib sections. It's crazy, but sounds pleasant somehow since they're skilled musicians and singing passionately can be fun.
---
Okay, it's been a day, and now an update is necessary.
Last night was even more awkward, as the preacher gave an altar call for "getting drunk in the Holy Ghost," so that people swayed and fell and went into laughing (though, I recall that being the same reaction as other nights).
Everyone gathered around and joined in somehow, even if at least one friend I know was just being open and laughing along with it in a natural sense. I stayed seated by myself, but praying to God for what he wanted me to do. I felt a sensation over my shoulders, like I was already cloaked with presence and power. I stayed and I felt this was most honest and sincere.
Now, my opposition to the practice (though moreso for the teaching behind it of required refilling) was quite obvious... and a few came by to talk to me, and there was some debating, but mostly a lot of love and encouragement for me to keep an openness about it.
Then this morning, our guest teacher from South Africa came up to the pulpit, and I like his style far better. He said the yelling and preaching last night was to get us to realize what we're given that allows us to access heaven, be just like Jesus, and to walk continually in that power after being born again and H.S baptism.
That, and he gently called a few people to stand one at a time, including me. He wanted to pray and prophesy over me, that I would understand how "this day in history was Taylor-made" for me, and more deeply comprehend my sonship, and that I'm made to be a dragonslayer... not limited by being small and handsome, but seeing myself in the mirror as someone lions will bow to. He prayed God would impart this truth beyond his words, apart from my own understanding (I'm still working to balance that one) and asked if I would receive this word... to which I nodded yes, and at the end he encouraged all of us for the way he sensed us being receptive.
Obviously, I appreciated the pun, and that freaking cool title, and how he didn't force anything on me, and the hovering lightness of his touch on me (like with Caleb and Madi). I was even somewhat asking God for me to be called out and hear some personal revelation, to learn if there is something more going on in all this.
Okay. I'm convinced there is something more. At the very least, God is being His big faithful self in ministering to me by His Spirit in the congregation... even if they're doing other weird stuff. Or maybe I was wrong and those emotional experiences with the Spirit are good. Either way, I receive those Taylored words of encouragement for walking as a warrior, and I know I want to bring some degree of what I'm experiencing back to Clovis Christian.
Grace and peace and love from Africa,
Taylor Lewis
Thursday, April 28, 2016
Manthano: Words Worth Carrying
“Don’t let the enemy make you feel shame for your past relationship not working. God knew it wouldn’t be long-term with Rachel, and He was already telling secrets about that to Heather… but take comfort knowing that He wasn’t troubled because you two were together. He was okay with it going on for two years and chose not to interrupt it because He wanted it to be a part of your story...”
“I’ve seen you growing exponentially through this! Even just six months ago, a mission to the wilderness of Africa is something you never would have signed up for, and now you’re about to go to every airport in the world and you’re feeling totally ready to trust God in this adventure. The way you’ve changed from it is so rewarding and you can thank God for using it.”
“...yeah, even with our backpacking trip, you impressed me and Luke and Connor. It’s not that you couldn’t physically do all that before, but something shifted in your confidence and your integrity for how you take on responsibilities.”
“When you meet the woman that the Lord tailored just for you, she isn’t going to say ‘why did you spend two years in a relationship with someone else?’ She’s going to be so grateful because of the man that you became through it, and how that prepared you to love her.”
---
Then King David went in and sat before the Lord and said, “Who am I, O Lord God, and what is my house, that you have brought me thus far? And this was a small thing in your eyes, O God. You have also spoken of your servant’s house for a great while to come, and have shown me future generations, O Lord God!”
- 1 Chronicles 17:16-17
There is a seed of courage hidden (often deeply, it is true) in the heart of the fattest and most timid hobbit, waiting for some final and desperate danger to make it grow. Frodo was neither very fat nor very timid; indeed, though he did know it, Bilbo (and Gandalf) had thought him the best hobbit in the Shire. He thought he had come to the end of his adventure, and a terrible end, but the thought hardened him. He found himself stiffening, as if for a final spring; he no longer felt limp like a helpless prey.
-The Fellowship of the Ring
Friday, April 22, 2016
Manthano: Centurion
In my daily Bible reading, I've now worked through 33 chapters of Ezekiel. After reading Lamentations, I was told that these oracles of the LORD would offer a more hopeful message... and I think I agree it does, but not at all as I originally expected it would.
The book opens with spectacular visions (four creatures with four faces as the chariot wheels of a heavenly throne) and peculiar signs (re-enacting Jerusalem's imminent downfall on a Lego-scale of bricks and dirt). God gives Ezekiel a commission, but also fair warning-- these people are a rebellious house who will mock and glower and refuse to listen, but speak boldly! The son of man is then given a scroll of mourning, lamentation, and woe to ingest - which somehow tastes as sweet as honey in the mouth - and sent out as Israel's watchmen to utter the LORD's impending judgment.
Mourning and lamentation and woe, indeed. These summarize the meat of the prophetic book, in which God rages against Israel in a way directly compared with a betrayed husband.
The children of Abraham now have whoring hearts, trusting in the possession of their land and the security of foreign armies. They lean on might and self-righteousness, so that they may pursue idols and every injustice. They listen to Ezekiel as someone who shares quaint proverbs and nice sounding words... not actually listening or doing what they are told.
God says He will spend all His fury-- bringing a sword against those in the cities, wild beasts against the survivors in the wilderness, and plague against any who hide in caves or strongholds. When their nation is humiliated in the sight of all other nations, and the remnant is completely exiled from their promised land... then they will know that the God of Israel is the LORD.
How does the book, then, offer a hopeful message?
In some small portions there is hope - saying that God will leave a remnant, and He will give them a new heart to truly be His obedient chosen people, and His longing is for wicked people to turn back to Him - but these glimmers do not account for the book in its entirety.
Instead, I've learned to search for hope even within the most dark and wrathful chapters. Our God is not satisfied with our selfish hypocrisy, and will discipline us with any affliction necessary so that we will wholly belong to Him. Our God is in control over the greatest empires, using their destruction at times but impartially judging how they treat His beloved people. Our God can be encountered in places of shame and suffering.
Although I've written far less analytical entries in my journey through Ezekiel, it did encourage me to compose personal reflections, a devotional poem, and this overview blog post. It made me love God more for His jealousy and wrath. I've hated sin more and adopted a more bold attitude in the face of opposition. I've contemplated how my own nation fits the same motifs of self-reliance and rebellion, while also resting in the comfort that God's people (even in the U.S.) are today given regenerate hearts and made new creations.
I think most of all, the LORD's communication through Ezekiel renews my courage as I move forward from my own bittersweet humiliation, and awakens a passion to make Jesus known among distant, desolate lands and defeated banners.
The book opens with spectacular visions (four creatures with four faces as the chariot wheels of a heavenly throne) and peculiar signs (re-enacting Jerusalem's imminent downfall on a Lego-scale of bricks and dirt). God gives Ezekiel a commission, but also fair warning-- these people are a rebellious house who will mock and glower and refuse to listen, but speak boldly! The son of man is then given a scroll of mourning, lamentation, and woe to ingest - which somehow tastes as sweet as honey in the mouth - and sent out as Israel's watchmen to utter the LORD's impending judgment.
Mourning and lamentation and woe, indeed. These summarize the meat of the prophetic book, in which God rages against Israel in a way directly compared with a betrayed husband.
The children of Abraham now have whoring hearts, trusting in the possession of their land and the security of foreign armies. They lean on might and self-righteousness, so that they may pursue idols and every injustice. They listen to Ezekiel as someone who shares quaint proverbs and nice sounding words... not actually listening or doing what they are told.
God says He will spend all His fury-- bringing a sword against those in the cities, wild beasts against the survivors in the wilderness, and plague against any who hide in caves or strongholds. When their nation is humiliated in the sight of all other nations, and the remnant is completely exiled from their promised land... then they will know that the God of Israel is the LORD.
How does the book, then, offer a hopeful message?
In some small portions there is hope - saying that God will leave a remnant, and He will give them a new heart to truly be His obedient chosen people, and His longing is for wicked people to turn back to Him - but these glimmers do not account for the book in its entirety.
Instead, I've learned to search for hope even within the most dark and wrathful chapters. Our God is not satisfied with our selfish hypocrisy, and will discipline us with any affliction necessary so that we will wholly belong to Him. Our God is in control over the greatest empires, using their destruction at times but impartially judging how they treat His beloved people. Our God can be encountered in places of shame and suffering.
Although I've written far less analytical entries in my journey through Ezekiel, it did encourage me to compose personal reflections, a devotional poem, and this overview blog post. It made me love God more for His jealousy and wrath. I've hated sin more and adopted a more bold attitude in the face of opposition. I've contemplated how my own nation fits the same motifs of self-reliance and rebellion, while also resting in the comfort that God's people (even in the U.S.) are today given regenerate hearts and made new creations.
I think most of all, the LORD's communication through Ezekiel renews my courage as I move forward from my own bittersweet humiliation, and awakens a passion to make Jesus known among distant, desolate lands and defeated banners.
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