Blind Faith?

The farther I go on this healing journey with Jettie, the more I am convinced that I know nothing! It is said that Augustine as he lay dying was granted a vision of heaven before he fully departed and that as his eyes were fully opened to God's reality he exclaimed something to the effect that "all my works are as straw." That's sort of how I feel these days, and it's a good feeling not to have confidence in oneself, believe me, although it is also unsettling to say the least! I am not sure why it is so, but it seems much easier to trust in the unreliable perceptions I have of things than the certainty of Father's declarations, but I have discovered that He is faithful to pursue me with His love and truth until I trust Him a little more.

So...I have been drawn once again to ponder what it means to trust God, to "have faith in God." And since I don't know anything I want to share a couple of remarkable thoughts from others who have been forged in God's furnace enough to have something to say about faith.

My basic premise for this blog entry, as the title suggests, is that there is no such thing as blind faith for a believer. I have written about this earlier (January of this year, I think), but I ran across a couple of remarkable thoughts about faith being rooted in a greater reality (and therefore not blind) that I want to share with you.

First, J.P. Moreland and Klaus Issler write about a reality that is so compelling that "not believing" seems foolish. Ponder their words from In Search of a Confident Faith, pp. 22-23.

"Merely exhorting people to be more committed to God--'just have more faith'--seldom produces greater confidence and dedicated trust in God. Rather, what is needed is a realistic picture of a flourishing life lived deeply in tune with God's kingdom--a life that is so utterly compelling that failure to exercise greater commitment to life in that kingdom will feel like a foolish, tragic missed opportunity for entering into something truly dramatic and desirable."

What I hear in these words, among other things, is that trusting God is not something we have to do blindly, but rather the compelling example of others before us and around us who live "flourishing lives lived deeply in tune with God's Kingdom" helps us to "see." Can you think of those who have lived before you and who are now around you who enable you to see? Just wondering...

The second statement that negates the idea of "blind faith" is from one of those people who has gone before us and who lived the compelling life of faith. His name is F.F. Bosworth, and he was a remarkable man of faith whose life and ministry of evangelism was marked by the miraculous. I was captured just this morning by his beautiful picture of what it means to walk by faith, not by sight (and yet, as you will see, he doesn't think of faith as blind but as seeing beyond the current world!). In Christ The Healer, he writes, "The great spiritual realities and facts that God sees and tells us about are just as real as though we could see them with natural eyes. Because of God, His faithfulness, and His promises, faith is the surest ground possible to stand on. To the man who is not enlightened or who does not see the promise of God, it is stepping out into space. To those who who have faith in God's Word, it is walking on the foundations of the universe." (italics mine).

I have nothing more to add this week. I know nothing, nothing, nothing! :-) But I am content to rest on what I am learning and am asking God to enable me more and more to walk on the "foundations of the universe."

Walking but not blindly,

Tom, one of Abba's children

Simple Church Reflections????

You who follow my blog may have noticed that the title of my blog doesn't always match what I write, at least not always. That's because when I started writing I was still detoxing from previous misconceptions about what life in Jesus and his family is all about (and I am not done, of course). 

I know the last few posts have been rather disjointed, a reflection of how our lives have been of late. Today, though, I am going to try to be more coherent :-) And I am also actually going to "reflect on church at its simplest"!

Although I’m not a “purist” when it comes to simple/organic church, I often find myself reflecting on how church structures—and the thinking behind them—can either help or hinder people’s relationship with God.

Personally, I prefer to think of God’s family in the simplest of terms, much like Wayne Jacobsen describes in his writings. However, I often find myself in traditional church settings, and rather than judging them, I try to ask honest questions and offer observations.

Here are some patterns I’ve noticed—especially common in traditional church contexts—that can hinder living a real life in Jesus. These aren’t exclusive to traditional churches; I’ve seen them in house churches, too. I’m not saying they can’t be overcome. I’m just asking: if we truly want to see God’s Kingdom come, why do we tolerate them?

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Hindrances to Life in Jesus

• Letting leaders hear God for us instead of learning to hear his voice ourselves. Since hearing God is central to a growing relationship with him, this is a major barrier and not just in traditional churches.

• Coming to buildings or events instead of coming to Jesus. The focus often shifts from relationship to location. Listen to the vocabulary of most brick and mortar churches and you will hear language of "place and program" not people, gatherings, relationships, etc. 

• Thinking “you come” rather than “as we go.” I am not referring to being missional in some trendy sense. I am talking about naturally expressing the Father’s love wherever we are, led by the Spirit. 

• Lack of life-on-life connection centered around the Word and the Spirit. Living life-on-life is essential to true discipleship. Any structure that makes life-on-life harder or less visible should be ruthlessly evaluated and reconsidered.

• An information-focused approach to the Christian life instead of one based on love and obedient response. We’re called to live obediently in response to our being deeply loved, not in light of the information that we know.

• Obstacles to practicing the “one anothers” due to a focus on meetings, buildings, and events. This one speaks for itself, I think.

• Reducing the Christian life to events and schedules. This tendency is subtle and deeply ingrained—but it distorts what following Jesus really means. Being Jesus' disciple involves living life with him in the company of others 24/7.

• Programmed, cookie-cutter approaches to transformation (think "discipleship classes, etc.). Transformation occurs in the context of  genuine, consistent relationships with God and others not by means of programmed classes and events.

• The Pressure to hide our pain. We recognize that this pressure is very real and frequently a part of traditional church life. But when leaders and congregants feel they must appear to have it all together, there’s little space for inviting others into our struggles. Yes, transparent leaders help—but true safety comes from living life-on-life with trusted others in the Father’s loving presence. And yes, this can be very simple.

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These are just some simple reflections. Nothing new or profound. But I felt prompted to share them this week. My hope is that you can hear in these words a longing for God’s people to live freely and simply in His love, unbound by church forms that get in the way. Whatever your context, may you discover just how beautifully simple this life with Him can be.

Simply reflecting...

Tom, one of Abba's children

Unlearning Worry

Somewhere along life's journey I learned how to worry. I know that it's learned behavior because children don't worry, at least not like adults do. They may get afraid and have some apprehension about things that are frightening to them, but the constant projection of fear into the present from the imaginary future that comprises worry is not present in children who are in healthy environments.

I am not sure how I learned to worry so well. I had plenty of models, of course, both in the home and outside of it. And there were enough harsh events in life to darken my thoughts about the future. Neither did I have anyone to teach me any other way of looking at life, so worry became the culturally acceptable way for me to look at the future.

But how do you unlearn "the fine art of worrying"? Our recent and continuing journey through the dark places of life has revealed to me that I still don't have a lot of answers to this, but I have learned a few things that are beginning to erode the old patterns and replace them with new ones that are "worry free" or at least worry diminished.

First, I am learning not to worry about worrying. I wrote about this in an earlier blog (September 23, 2009). Taking the guilt factor out of worrying has helped me run to God more quickly with my fears (worry is fear, of course).

Second, I am learning that learning not to worry is in fact a learning process. Paul says this in Philippians 4:12, "I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation" (i.e., "I have learned not to worry about my circumstances"). Since Paul wrote this late in his life, it gives hope to the rest of us, eh? But what this means for me right now is that even though by last year at this time I had learned to be peaceful and unafraid about many things, the huge and unexpected pressure of this one year battle against disease has exposed a whole new flock of fears that I get to learn how to give to God! And if I didn't know that I am learning (and that that's okay) I would tend to be discouraged by the fact that something I thought I had learned seemed to have disappeared. I hope this makes sense--it's really important to me right now. The last thing we need to do when great pressure is on us is feel defeated about things that God is making deeper in us!

Third, and most important, I am learning that connecting to God in His Father-love (to use Andrew Murray's term) is the key to banishing worry. Now I have known this for a while now, and I have even written about it before, and I have read buckets of books about it, of course, but learning doesn't take place until something is experienced. And if we are to learn something more deeply than before, the experience must be something that presses us harder, I think. This, of course, is what I am learning by experience right now (perhaps some of you are as well). Now the hard part about this is that worry/fear by definition tend to drive us away from God's Father love, and this tendency is reinforced by our adversary whose weapon of choice is fear. But this is precisely where my new discovery is found. I am discovering that God pursues us in our fears. In remarkable ways, even when I am too weak even to call out to Him, God chases me down and arrests me with His love in the midst of my worry. Yes, I can still choose to turn away from Him (and sometimes I do), but He persists in His pursuit of those whose hearts are set on Him, and eventually He captures me/us again with His love. That happened to me even this morning as I was reading (for the umpteenth time) With Christ In The School of Prayer by Andrew Murray. In the midst of recent struggles with fear (again!), I was ambushed by God's Father-love as I read chapter three of this remarkable book. I saw again the picture of a loving Father bending down and reaching out to His floundering child. Perhaps you will smile as I do now as you see the picture of what happened. I close with this picture.

I am reading along, trying once again to learn how to pray, aware of underlying worry and yet not aware of it, trying to connect with God's Father heart yet focused more on me than Him. In that condition I read the following words (italics are mine): "when you go to private prayer your first thought must be that the Father is waiting for you..." Don't let a cold and prayerless heart keep you from the presence of the loving Father...Do not think about how little you have to give to God, but about how much He wants to give to you. Just place yourself before His face and look up into it. Think of His wonderful, tender, concerned love. Tell Him how sinful, cold and dark everything is. The Father's loving heart will give light and warmth to yours."

Sigh...I am still learning, but I can assure you that what this dear departed saint wrote is true. We can learn not to worry, not all at once but in stages, and our hope for doing so rests not in us but in a loving Father who pursues us even in our fears and arrests us with His love, chasing us into the darkest valleys of despair and waiting there for us to turn and look up. What wondrous love is this? And yet I am still just learning...

Tom, one of Abba's children

Loving Father, Not a Fairy Godmother!

     My continuing struggles during our long battle have led me to some shocking discoveries about how I think about God. I have been humbled again and again to discover that what I believe in my head, having read the right things in all the right books, is not what I believe in the deepest places. Thankfully, God is revealing this stuff to change me, but it is a journey of much brokenness along with unspeakable wonder as I discover who God really is.

     The discoveries have of late centered in themes that are wonderfully revealed in the following interchange between Jake and John in chapter 6, "Loving Father or Fairy Godmother?" in So You Don't Want to Go to Church Anymore, by Wayne Jacobsen and Dave Coleman. (pp.70-71)

John: "So you think God owes you better?"

Jake: "Doesn't he? Why should I try so hard to follow him if he won't watch out for me?"

"So that's it," John replied. "You grew up with the idea that your goodness would actually control the way God treats you. If you do your part, he has to do his."

"That's not true?"

“Jake, God’s doing his part all the time. He loves you more than anyone else ever will and will not keep his hands out of your life. Sometimes we cooperate and sometimes we don’t and that can affect how things sort out. But don’t think you can control God by your actions because it isn’t like that. If we could control God, he’d turn out like us. Wouldn’t it be better to let him have his way with us so we become like him?”

    I think you get what I was discovering. I have been amazed to discover that I STILL think like Jake at times, even though I know in my head that this is not the way God is nor how He works.

     Brennan Manning, in his wonderful classic, Abba's Child (Kindle loc. 88ff.), puts this wrong thinking even more starkly, and I was arrested by his words as I read them last night. Commenting on Flannery O'Connor's sad character, Ruller, in The Turkey, Manning writes: "In Ruller, many of us Christians stand revealed, naked, exposed. Our God, it seems, is One who benevolently gives turkeys and capriciously takes them away. When He gives them, it signals His interest in and pleasure with us. We feel close to God and are spurred to generosity. When He takes them away, it signals His displeasure and rejection. We feel cast off by God. He is fickle, unpredictable, whimsical. He builds us up only to let us down. He remembers our past sins and retaliates by snatching the turkeys of health, wealth, inner peace, progeny, empire, success and joy.

     "And so we unwittingly project onto God our own attitudes and feelings toward ourselves. As Blaise Pascal wrote, 'God made man in his own image, and man returned the compliment.'"

     Ouch! Surely I don't really view God like that, do I? Perhaps not nearly as much as I used to, but I have discovered that pain and emotional pressure expose remnants of such thinking in us. If things get bad enough, my mind is at least tempted to run to such thinking. But now let me share the rest of what God has been showing me.

     In a word, God has once again revealed His patient loving pursuit of me in my blackest moods and darkest thoughts. In ways that are beyond description His goodness continues to chase me down, wrestling me to the ground again and again so that He can embrace me and quiet me with His love. Yes, I can and will delay the effects of His pursuit, but He is relentless in His kindness in the midst of our pain. As the patient Father He is, He holds His squirming, distracted and frightened child until the child quiets down. Any of you who are parents can picture what I am describing.

     And then there is a revelation even beyond this one. I have found myself horrified at times that I can still be so broken, selfish, willful, etc. Put enough pressure on me, it seems, and I will default to self-orientation! But instead of finding God staring at me in disapproval with His arms crossed, I find Him inviting me into His embrace. And so I find myself on a deeper journey into something we all assent to but barely grasp. Brennan Manning (Abba's Child, Kindle loc. 100) describes this as real conversion, and his words describe what I have been experiencing in much deeper ways of late. "It takes a profound conversion to accept that God is relentlessly tender and compassionate toward us just as we are--not in spite of our sins and faults (that would not be total acceptance), but with them. Though God does not condone or sanction evil, He does not withhold His love because there is evil in us."

     And so I am continuing to discover the Abba I thought I knew. Pressures, as Scripture often tells us, refine and purify. This process is painful beyond belief, and humbling in the best sense, but the revelation of who God is in the middle of it is not only what sustains us but awes us into silent wonder.

     My prayer is that my transparency in this post will serve you in some way. As Brennan Manning says, "If we conceal our wounds out of fear and shame, our inner darkness can neither be illuminated nor become a light for others." (Abba's Child, Kindle loc. 207). As one whose inner "creepy crawlies" have been exposed more than once only to be transformed by His illumination, my prayer is that your own wounds may be healed in some small way as you are encouraged to run into Father's embrace, even in the midst of questions, pain and sin.

     I conclude with a quote from Brother Lawrence that I have shared before (from one of his letters). It captures well the wonder of this ever deeper journey into living loved. "I consider myself as the most wretched of men, full of sores and corruption, and who has committed all sorts of crimes against his King; touched with a sensible regret I confess to Him all my wickedness, I ask His forgiveness, I abandon myself in His hands, that He may do what He pleases with me. This King, full of mercy and goodness, very far from chastising me, embraces me with love, makes me eat at His table, serves me with His own hands, gives me the key of His treasures; He converses and delights Himself with me incessantly, in a thousand and a thousand ways, and treats me in all respects as His favorite. It is thus I consider myself from time to time in His holy presence." (The Practice of the Presence of God, Kindle loc. 342). 

Marveling at His love,

Tom, one of Abba's children

Justify or Redeem?

     "I just can't imagine any final outcome that would justify all of this (pain)." "Mackenzie...we aren't justifying it. We are redeeming it." (Papa to Mack, The Shack, p. 127)

     Last week I closed with the question, "Would God allow pain into our lives?" and suggested that the "yes" answer to that was beyond our understanding. Those words have come back to haunt me for a number of reasons but mostly because of the slippery slope that attaches itself to misunderstanding the phrase "God allows." As least for me, if I picture God as acting like some kind of gatekeeper who routes some painful things away from me and some towards me "for my good" (which the term "God allows" can suggest), I find it hard to trust Him. So...here's what I have been thinking and reflecting on. Perhaps some of it will be helpful to you.

     I find it easier to trust God if I remember that He is a loving Father, not a disciplinarian or despot. As a Father whose children live in a fallen world where evil abounds, He dare not shield us from all of it, lest we be unable to cope with life in such a broken world. Just as a good parent allows his/her children to learn by experience even in the context of pain, so God as the perfect Parent does the same. And because He is loving, totally loving, it is possible to trust even when we don't understand (I didn't say easy, but possible!).

     Second, it helps me a great deal to remember that "God allows" things only in the sense that His overall purpose requires that His creatures exercise free will. This free will, exercised in the "first rebellion" by Adam and Eve, has "allowed" all kinds of evil and pain to enter our current world. This would be a rather gloomy thought if we didn't also remember that in His sovereign purpose God will somehow redeem everything in a way that will astound us all. In other words, in some way that is beyond our comprehension, God will indeed work things out in a way that will be undeniably and totally good without violating the free (and often stupid) choices of His creatures. This hope is what keeps us "sane" when hell breaks loose all around us, and only in clinging to God in this hope are we able to make sense of the horrific things that we sometimes see and even experience. Some day..., some day...

     Third, it has been remarkably clear to me during our terrible/wonderful journey to realize that God does indeed "shout in our pain" as C. S. Lewis suggested. I cannot tell you how loudly and persistently God has been shouting His love, His promises, His affection, etc., to Jettie and me over and over again during this journey. And there has been a constancy in Him so that He has reached out to and supported and shown grace to no matter how I was behaving at the time. This is quite remarkable, really, but makes perfectly good sense because the greatest good that God brings out of anything is a further revelation of who He is (and He is blinding us with His goodness at times, especially when He shouts in our pain!).

     I close with some thoughts from The Shack (p. 185), which I have been re-reading of late to help me regain perspective. In response to Mack's question about his little girl, Missy, having to die in order for him (Mack) to experience God's love, Papa says, "Mack, just because I work incredible good out of unspeakable tragedies doesn't mean I orchestrate the tragedies. Don't ever assume that my using something means I caused it or that I need it to accomplish my purposes. That will only lead you to false notions about me. Grace doesn't depend on suffering to exist, but where there is suffering you will find grace in many facets and colors."

Finding grace, amazing grace in many colors, in the midst of pain, whining, worrying and some moments of trust,

Tom, one of Abba's children

Naive About Pain

     One thing the painful journey Jettie and I have been on has revealed to me is how naive I have been about pain. In my head, of course, I knew that pain is a part of life but somehow I kept thinking that it wouldn't really touch my family, my life! I suppose the American myth of a pain free life somehow crept into my psyche, but whatever the reason for this, I have had this naive assumption ripped out of my life by this recent season of testing, and now things that I had in my head are finding their way into my experience and therefore my heart.

     Most of these things, though, are too raw to try to write about. I am now more aware of what Jesus meant when He said we would have tribulation in this world, and I am also more aware of the many scriptures that speak about trouble, testing, trials, etc., but I dare not try to express what I am learning at this point--it's too fragile, too raw and needs to be further rooted in my heart and experience before I really have anything to say to others about it!

     But I do want to help head off any naivete you may have about pain in this life. How to do that? I am choosing to share a few lines from a book that has been helpful to us in our pain: A Prayer That Moves Heaven by Ron Mehl (based on the 2 Chronicles 20 story about King Jehoshapat). In the chapter entitled "Truths About Testing" Ron gives three helpful principles about testing (read "pain") that can assist us in facing the reality of the pain that will inevitably come into our lives at times. And Ron Mehl wrote from a perspective of pain (26 years of leukemia before he died from it a few years back) that gives him great authority. Consider these three simple but profound principles (from pages 27-32).

     First, Ron writes, "You can plan on tests from God. In his book The Road Less Traveled, M. Scott Peck makes this point: 'Once we truly know that life is difficult--once we truly understand and accept it--then life is no longer difficult.' It's the same with the Christian life. Scripture assures us over and over again that we will experience trials and testings in our lives--difficult circumstances allowed by the hand of our Father." TW's comment: Ouch! I don't like being reminded of this, but when I read the quote from M. Scott Peck, it drilled me to the core because I realized that I had been naive about painful stuff. No, God doesn't send it, but because this world has been given over to the destroyer, bad stuff happens to good people. Pretending otherwise doesn't help us in any shape, form or fashion!

     Second, Ron writes, "You need to prepare your heart NOW for those inevitable tests....Nobody can be completely ready for devastating news...Yet if your heart is fixed and fastened on the faithfulness of God, and if you are daily delighting in His presence, His Spirit, and His Word, those tests will not crush you. You will turn immediately to God for help...and find it!" TW's comment: My response to this is to marvel that God has indeed been preparing me/us for what we face, even when we don't know it. His gracious working in my life up to this point has indeed enabled me to seek His face, even when I was angry with Him or feeling totally lost. A few years ago, that wouldn't have been my experience. So yes, press into Him now and always, and when trouble comes you will be amazed at His provision for you.

     Third, Ron writes, "When the tests do come, focus on God's promises. In this account, that's exactly what happened. Jehoshaphat didn't weep and wail before the Lord, he zeroed in immediately on the promises of God's Word. Faith doesn't demand explanations from God, but rests on His promises." TW's comment: Yes, I know everyone says this, and it has often been used as a club on people who were in so much pain that they couldn't find any promises at the time, but there is a steadying and sustaining power that God gives as we listen for His specific promises about our situation and then meditate on these and review them often, trusting them not just because they are "in the Bible" but more importantly because of the character of the One who gave them to us. And we have certainly had a flood of promises given to us from Scripture and prophetically that God has used to shout assurance to us in the darkest times. Ron's words to folks in pain are good ones in that regard, I think: "get alone, get a promise, and get serious." Hang onto God and His promises as best you can, dear ones, and you will discover that He is hanging onto you much more tightly that you are hanging onto Him!

     Would a good God allow pain into our lives? Yes, but not for reasons any of us could understand. So I choose not to ask that question nor demand that God explain Himself. Instead I look for His fingerprints, cling to His hand and discover His hand gripping mine even when I am slipping away. I am not quite as naive about pain as I once was, I guess...

Whining at times, trusting at times, sustained all of the time.

Tom, one of Abba's children

The Destructiveness of Self-effort

As our journey into healing continues, I have become increasingly aware of how easy it is to revert back to relying on my understanding and from there moving back into striving and self-effort. The pull to self-reliance can be remarkably subtle--even when I think I am trusting in God God in His kindness often reveals otherwise :-) The truth is, anytime I am evaluating, making judgments, etc., independently of Him, I am at least to some extent leaning on my understanding and not His wisdom.

The good news in all this is that God is hanging onto us very tightly and continues to pursue us with a tenacity that is unparalleled in the Universe! And when He catches us, He gently but firmly pries our hands off the controls and woos us back to trustful surrender.

But why is it so important to run from self-effort? I suppose there are many reasons, but a couple that have come to mind of late are worth sharing, I think. First, when I started this journey into intimacy with Papa about 6 years ago, one of the first things He told me was that any return to self-effort would make me vulnerable to the enemy's tactics because I would then be trusting in me and not Him. Those words from Him really got my attention at the time, but I am still learning to live this out. And recently I have learned this lesson in powerful new ways. The slightest movement towards self-reliance, striving, etc., immediately exposes me to fear which in turn leads me into even more self-focus--you can see that this leads to a vicious cycle (which Papa in His kindness always interrupts at some point!). The truth is that faith is the total transfer of trust from me to God, and any trace of striving or self-trust moves me away from faith in Papa God. Note well, though, my reference to God reaching out to me when I revert to self--I recognize more than ever that I cannot "do faith" by fixing myself even when I discover that I have again chosen to rely on my judgment! Faith really is, I think, more collapse and rest than anything else.

But there is a second reason that self-effort is to be abhorred, and this one strikes at the heart of things. Self-effort is a declaration of independence from the One who loves us most. When I choose to "lean on my own understanding" I am by default turning away from the face of the One who loves me most. When I first started this journey, my concern about self-reliance was far more focused on me, but 6 years down the road my pain now comes at the thought of bringing harm to the One who loves me so well. True, God needs nothing but He is a Person who loves and rejoices and cares about us. This means that we can bring Him joy and pleasure by our loving responsiveness to Him. It also means that I can "hurt His heart" by turning from Him. And so my horror at self-effort/self-reliance grows as my love for Him grows.

Does this make sense? I think of something Brother Lawrence wrote long ago in which he compared the inward turning away from God as the same kind of an affront that would come to a friend in our living room from whom we simply walked away. That picture from Brother Lawrence has always stuck with me. The One who loves me most and whom I can constantly communicate with, invites, even compels, my full attention, something that I cannot give when I turn to self! Yet apart from His help, I will indeed find myself turning from Him to self, leaving my Friend and Father in my living room while I attend to less important things. But always He is inviting me back!

Thank you, my Abba, for so often wooing me back into the "River of your delights," out of the desert of my self-effort and self-reliance!

Learning to lean on Him...

Tom, one of Abba's little children