Jeremiah 29:11 is a Half Truth

Jeremiah 29:11 gets all the press.

Tell someone you're down about the way things are going with school or work or a relationship, and I'm pretty sure a Christian will begin their advice with "For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

It's a good verse- and I believe it has truth to it. Plus it looks good embroidered on a pillow and makes the advice giver seem somewhat enlightened. But there are two things that have always bugged me about it. One, the context is that Israel is being told they will get out of captivity and get to go home. Yes, this is a prophecy, but it is given specifically to the nation of Israel. But the greater context of the Bible does back up that part about God knowing the plans He has for us, so I'm good there. Honestly, this part doesn't bother me much.

But the second one does. Jeremiah 29:11 is truth- but it is only a part of the truth of this passage. When we read 29:11, we think God's benevolence is at work- and it is. We think God is just going to give us prosperity and good times- which is NOT the case. Disagree with me? Let's see what comes next in verses 12-14:

Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the LORD, “and will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you,” declares the LORD, “and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile.”

See, the prosperity and lack of harm are, in fact, contingent on something. Several things actually. First, we must call on God, go to Him in prayer. No problem, you might say, you pray all the time, so you must be good. I pray a lot, too, but I don't always find prosperity or lack of harm in my life- how about you? Often, we pray BECAUSE of the problems in our lives. I know I often pray because I feel I need something, not because I want to chat with God. Perhaps that is why we often feel our prayers don't reach beyond the ceiling.

We are not, in fact, seeking God when we pray- we are seeking His blessing.

God essentially tells us that the good stuff is contingent upon the second thing- that we actually seek HIM, and with our whole heart. OK, easy enough to try to shift our focus from seeking God's stuff to seeking Him as a Person, but it's more than that. He asks for our whole heart to be in it.

Whole heart. Not half, not three-quarters, not 99.999999%. Whole. All of it.

I read of people griping that they can't see God, or hear/understand what He is saying in scripture, or that God just doesn't seem to be around anymore. I've heard people- believing Christians- say that. I've said that. And at the same time, I've known, deep down (for me at least, I can't speak for the others) that those moments come most often when my heart is, in fact, divided.

I can't find God when I'm looking for Him and fulfillment at work and ideas for the church and how to be a better husband and father. These are good things, important things, but if they are dividing my heart, they are going to block my view of God. I get that. But at the same time, just what is a "whole heart" and how do I get it?

Is God asking us to forsake all other people and things for Him?

Umm, yeah, He is.

He's not asking you to leave your family, quit your job and join a monastery, He's asking for your undivided heart- your undivided attention. Family, career, church- all of that can and should still be in your life, but instead of it being a portion of your life (read: heart) it should be a portion of your relationship to God. That's what I think He asking when He asks for our whole heart: That everything we do, we do for Him. Everything we think, pursue, say, attempt- all done with the mind of "How does this glorify God?"

I must confess this is a struggle I find growing increasingly difficult in my own life. I am often tempted to try to sort out things without asking that question first and often. I go to God with questions and requests for the purpose of my own prosperity and freedom from harm- not to just be with God. I often put church before God. I guess that makes me a Pharisee. I do good things and wait expectantly for blessings that never come. I ask God why, and He is probably responding with- "You did that for you, not for me."

So, back to Jeremiah 29:11- God tells Israel (and us) that He has no plans to bring us harm, but plenty to bring us prosperity. (An aside- I think this means a spiritual prosperity as much or more than any material prosperity.) What verse 12 tells us is that God has told us this hope, so that we would truly seek Him- then and only then will the plans God has for us come to fruition.

They are contingent upon God's grace, but like always with God's grace, it is contingent upon our acceptance of it. And we accept it by seeking God, looking for Him with all our attention AND affection.

Perhaps that is what "whole heart" is all about. All our attention and affection, given to God.

Sounds like good things are already pouring in with that attitude.

How Do You Define Purity?

You ever had someone tell you not to think about a pink elephant? 

Or tell you that whatever you do, do not scratch your nose?

The funny thing is, as soon as you are told to avoid those things, its all you can think about.  It's basic psychology really, the more we are told what not to do, the more we want to do it.  Maybe 'basic psychology' is the wrong terminology- 'basic human nature' is better.  It seems since the beginning of recorded history, we go out of our to do what we are told not to do.  It's more than John Locke from Lost screaming, "Don't tell me what I can't do!" out of hurt pride, it's about curiosity, about testing ourselves, about feeding something inside us.

For a long time, and to an extent even now, Christianity has been known for telling people what not to do.  "Don't drink,dance, smoke or chew, or hang around with those who do," was a kind of unofficial motto of lots of churches.  Not that there is anything wrong with knowing what behaviors are wrong, mind you.  God has lots of things He wants us to have no part of, and we need to know those things and adhere to His commands completely.  The problem is that the our focus falls more on the "No's" of Christianity than the "Yes's."

No where has this been more evident, I believe, than the Purity movements.  True Love Waits was the most known in my circles, and it was a good program.  Well, it's heart was in the right place.  The problem with many of these things is they spend a good portion of their time telling students of the evils of sex outside of marriage. (Sexual purity is really just a small part of the larger Purity picture, but it gets the lion's share of attention.)

Numerous studies have appeared indicating that True Love Waits and other abstinence programs aren't working so well.  What has happened with that data is that lots of folks are jumping to the conclusion that it is impossible for people to abstain from sex until they are married.  The taboo or "No" action is just too tempting, they would say. 

And they are not wrong.

Well, not totally.  The truth is, in the current way we deal with all areas of purity- not just sexual- the focus is on what NOT to do, instead what TO do.  We have advertised and promoted how bad an action is, and we have made it magnetically attractive to that basic human nature that wants to do what someone has told it it can't do.  Our system is doomed to fail.

Now, a system that is working right now is gold.  I know, you're wondering what the heck gold has to do with purity, other than some of those rings are made of it.  Here's the thing about gold- people want it pure.  Pure gold is a - forgive the pun- goldmine right now.  An ounce is worth more than $1800 an ounce.  Everyone is talking gold.  No one is talking about the stuff that was melted out of the gold. 

"There are just over 30 grams in a Troy ounce, and at 5 grams/ton, you're looking at 30 divided by 5 or 6 tons of ore to recover that (Troy) ounce of gold from ore with a grade of 5 grams/ton."

(http://wiki.answers.com/Q/How_many_tons_of_ore_contain_one_ounce_of_gold#ixzz1VrMRJtP4)

There is 5 or 6 TONS of other junk (depending on the grade of the ore) that must be smelted away to get the good stuff- the pure stuff.  My point is this- the focus with gold is on the pure stuff, not the stuff that gets in the way of the pure stuff.  The reason is that the gold is what we value vastly more than the rest of the ore.

The problem with the call to purity in the church is not that we are calling for it, it is that we are calling for it in the negative, by telling you all about the 5 or 6 tons of junk you need to get rid of, instead of elaborating on the ounce of purity that is so valuable. We spend more time praying against the sins in our lives than we do praying for the purity. 

We have place our emphasis on the lesser thing.

 It is not the things taken away from a nugget of gold that make it pure, the gold's purity is an intrinsic thing.  You just have to get the other stuff out of the way to see it. 

True purity is not defined by what we need to lack, but by what we need to possess that is of true value. 

Matthew 5:8 tells us: "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God."  Here is the call to purity I want to embrace.  That if I seek purity, that gold amidst the mess, then I will see God.  The promise is not that I will be master over my desires, that will be able to check off a list of things I don't do.  The promise is a positive- that I will see God.  That I will be in His presence, that I will know Him more purely.

I believe that when we are living to seek God, the sins we worry about, the things that keep us impure, they will be burned away more and more by His presence.  We do need to be aware of our sins, and acknowledge them.

But we need to focus more on God, than on them.

Detoxing a God Addiction

“I'm addicted to Jesus.”

            It's a fairly benign- if corny- declaration made by many a Christian.  Heck, I've said it, usually with tongue planted firmly in cheek.  It is meant to imply a serious devotion to God, a “I gotta have Him” attitude.  It's meant to imply that God is more important than anything else in the world- just like an addict would describe their addiction of choice.

            I can see it, really.  We talk of spiritual 'highs,' there are key moments in our faith that we are desperate to recreate/exceed, there is a feeling we long for in worship, there is a feeling of let down when we recognize our distance from God.  There are Christians that come on so strong they can be offensive (when they are in the thrall of their God-addiction) but they burn out quickly and become unrecognizable.  And of course, we all have our drug of choice- or several.  Music, mountains, poetry, certain scriptures or whatever you like best- they all take us to that 'high.'  And really, there's nothing wrong with that, right?

            Or is there?

            I first noticed a problem a couple years ago.  Mountains were always one of my favorite 'God drugs.'  From the first time I skied down one, to the time I stood atop a peak in Rocky Mountain National Park, to the numerous times I'd hiked (recklessly) around steep slopes, I'd worship God so deeply and strongly, and I'd feel so much more alive.  High. 

            But that trip to Colorado didn't leave the same feeling.  It was good, but the 'high' wasn't, really.  I didn't think much of it at the time.  But when music, one of my other “God Drugs” started to slack off in that 'worshipful high' department, I began to wonder.  It was confirmed when I returned to Colorado earlier this summer, and again, failed to feel that 'high.'

            Of course, I immediately thought that there must be something lacking in my spiritual life that is keeping me back.  And I was right, but not how I thought.

            Then, Sunday night at church, I was speaking about James 4- Submitting to God.  James talks about how we fight each other to get what we want.    He says we don't get what we want, because we don't ask God.  Then, he drops a bomb.

            When we do ask God, we ask with wrong motives, to get what we want for ourselves.

            Suddenly, this God-addiction metaphor took on a whole new meaning.  We are addicted to God because of what we get out of Him- we are addicted to the HIGH of worship and how it makes us feel.

            Climbing that mountain, singing that song, writing this blog- it was done for ME.  How it would make me feel.  So, the drug addiction rule that the same old high is never good enough was true in my spirituality.  I wanted more God because I wanted more feel-good.

            Don't get me wrong, I think we should feel good, and enjoy worshipping God.  But that is a result of worshipping God, not the chief goal. 

            But we have made it that.

            Church is unfulfilling if we don't hear 'our' song, or the message isn't what we wanted to hear.  We do this or that because it makes us feel better about ourselves.  We seek purity so we can be a better person- for ourselves, not a higher Power.  We are selfish, and as James says, we are adulterous.  Not in the sleep-with-someone's-wife way, but in the sells-oneself-to-other-gods way.  In this case, the god is us, our wants.

            So, how do we detox from that, that desire to feel that spiritual high that has little to do with giving to God and a lot to do with filling my warm fuzzy meter?

            James, ever at the ready, has the answer:  Submit to God.

            Not to the feeling, not to the high we get from serving Him, not to anything we get from Him.  Just Him.

            It's difficult, I'm already aware of that.  Largely, its because we have tied God to His deeds and the enjoyment we get from that.  And it is natural to enjoy God, its even good to enjoy God. 

            So, I'm starting by asking this question of myself- even if I get nothing out of it, will I still love and worship God?  Then, I look not at what He has done for me, but at who He is, His character.

            Loving, gracious, kind, powerful, creative, wise, holy....you get the idea.  Even if none of these attributes benefited me, they are characteristics worthy of praise.  That's where I'm starting.

            See, the problem is not being 'addicted to God', the problem is we are addicted to what we get out of God.  We need look no further that the drought affecting us in Texas right now.  We are spending all sorts of time praying for God's grace and rain- are we spending equal time worshipping God even as He withholds the rain? 

            I know I'm not- because I'm selfish, and I don't want to thank God for my suffering.

            Years of feeding my 'good feeling' addiction have led to this thought- and it's time to change.  It's time to remember that even if Jesus didn't die for me, He is worthy of praise.  That I need to be thankful in the midst of the empty as well as the plenty.

            I need to ask God to act not for my benefit, but for His glory. 

                           ************************************************

An addendum- Part of the awesomeness that is God is that much of His character is defined by what He does- and what He does for us.  God is Love.  It is demonstrated by His love for us.  So, it is important to realize that devoting ourselves to God implies we will get blessing from it.  We can't stop that from happening, nor should we try.

But we still need to seek to pursue God first and foremost, and not for what we get from Him.

The Lightness of Beauty, The Heaviness of Eternity

      I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.-- Eccelsiastes 3:10-11

I'm sitting in a cabin in Lake City, Colorado.  In every direction, mountain peaks streak toward the sky, some are still covered in snow even in July.  The aroma of pine trees is wafting in the screen door, and if I listen close enough, I can hear the slight roar of a creek swelling its banks and rushing over huge boulders.  On this trip, I've seen hundred foot tall waterfalls, had a picnic with my family overlooking a 12,500 foot mountain lake that was an almost unearthly blue, and gotten up close and personal with marmots, pikas, and deer.  In three days time, I've been hailed on, rained on, and sleeted on.
 It has been the epitome of beauty.
 I've always loved the mountains, from the first time I skied one at fifteen until now as I sit soaking up our last night of vacation.  The mountains have always seemed to speak to me, in a deep way, almost a spiritual, worshipful way.  I can still remember standing atop a peak in Rocky Mountain National Park, and the breathtaking feeling of being able to see for miles upon miles.  I'd never felt closer to God.
 I've loved this trip, the time with my family, and the scenery; but this time, I feel something is missing.  The fulfillment I've felt before from taking in the beauty is far less than what I've known before.  So, in the midst of this feeling of lacking, I came across (yet again) the above passage from Ecclesiastes.  I find it so potent, so deep...so beautiful.  
 It explains something to me that has often escaped me in my life:  This world was not meant to fulfill me.  Entertain me, excite me, encourage me, challenge me, and at times take my breath away, but never should any created thing give me definition, give me true life.
 It took coming to Colorado to bring to the forefront of my mind what has been playing at the back of it.  The fact that I've been seeking fulfillment from everything under the sun, all the beauty that is having its time, and not looking at the One behind it.
 I've been pastoring my church.  I've been writing.  I've been soaking up the adoration of my family.  I've sought out art in the form of music, movies, and television.  In and of themselves, these are good things, beautiful things.  I dare say I'm not terribly unlike most others in this.  It makes sense, doesn't it?  We appreciate most that which we can see and feel.  We are human.  
 And, according to Ecclesiastes, this is the burden God has laid on us.
 Because not only does God give us these beautiful things to appreciate, He also sets something deep, something spiritual in our hearts.  It's something that calls to us, that beckons us from beyond the veil of what we can see.  Something that we are destined to not fully grasp but forever long for.
 Eternity.
 The funny thing is, we all want this, deep down, yet we know so little about eternity.  We know it's a long time.  We know God exists there.  We know He promises us that we will be with Him for eternity if we trust in Christ.  And, we know God “sets eternity in the hearts of men.”  Whatever that means.
 What I believe that means is that God put in our hearts a desire to know more, to seek the deeper things that we don't always understand, to grow bored of lesser things- even if those things are beautiful and good.  In short, I believe God set in our hearts a hunger for Him that will be teased and fed by the beauty of family, mountains, poetry, music and laughter.  The burden we carry is that we will often be mesmerized by these beautiful things, but in them we will never find satisfaction.
 These beautiful things point to God, but we make them the point.  And we miss the point.  For all the praise given to a painting, it is the painter who is deserving of the credit.  The world is the painting, God is the painter.
 As my vacation comes to a close, and I prepare to head home, I'm going to take one long, last look at the majestic peaks that surround me.  I'm going to breathe deep the aroma of pine trees.  I'm going to listen closely to the sound of rushing water.  I'm going to appreciate the laughter and joy of my wife and children.
 But then, I'm going to remember my God.  I'm going to acknowledge the longing in my heart for Him and His love that no amount of His creation can fill.  And I will return to my everyday life forever pursuing the eternity God has set in my heart.

Restless

For some time now, I've been growing restless.

Now, I don't mean in in the sense that I'm ready to make huge changes like moving or a mid-life crisis/new sports car or suddenly becoming a vegan.  But I do mean restless in the sense that when things become too comfortable, I get bored and I want something to reinvigorate me.  I've felt this way numerous times in my life, probably the most significant being the time leading up to God calling me to start what has become the Gate.  I'd been in the youth ministry for about 7 years, and I'd been in pretty traditional churches.  We saw the same Bible studies year after year, dealt with the same issues, saw the same results.  Add to that the stirring in my heart to lead a church, and the fact that at 27, with no seminary degree (this means no one would hire me to run a traditional church), and I felt trapped.

So, God led me to a place of restlessness so that I'd start a church in a bar that went to where the people who needed Jesus were- not asking them to come to us.  

It seems strange that it's been nearly four years since that time in Colorado when God moved me so powerfully during a message from a guy from Campus Crusade talking about college ministry.  His description of a hedonistic lifestyle at a rather 'free living' kind of college broke my heart for a generation I was not so far removed from, yet already sensing a great space between us.  In those moments, I knew what I had to do, i just had no idea the hurdles that lay ahead.

Now, we are a three year old church- approaching this fall our 3rd year of meeting at Hurricane Harry's across from Texas A&M.  We're about to get through all the red tape of being a fully recognized 501(c)3, about to have an on-campus student organization for the first time, about to get to meet some new freshmen at Impact- a freshman retreat for those looking for God at A&M, and about to generally enter a new stage of life for our little group.

And I'm restless.

So much of what we are as a church is exactly what I'd hoped for- welcoming, standing strong for God's Truth but not being jerks about it, and free to be something completely different if we want to be.  

But I'm not satisfied.

I look at who we are and see that there are students who have grown in Christ so much since we met them.  But I also see some that have reached a point where they seem to be content to set up camp and just hang out there, never seeking the deeper things of God.  

I can't blame them, I'm there, too.

I think it's maybe a combination of burnout on the endless red tape thrown at us by the obligations of the government and other institutions, combined with a low spiritual gas tank from lots of giving and not much getting.  I mean that in the sense of not getting the time with God that really fills me, time spent alone with Him in a place of inspiration.  There have been a few me in my life- but maybe none more potent and inexplicable than the mountains.

My family and I are going there seeking rest and relaxation- a recharging, if you will.  But for me, the goal is a particular mountain.  It's called Handie's Peak, and it is 14,048 ft at the summit.  And I want to climb it.

I realize we may not make it to the top, but I need to give it a shot.  Here's why:  I need to be reminded that all the things that have worn me out about starting and leading a church are so worth the view from the mountain.  I need to go to a place where I have always felt nearer to God, because I feel distant from Him.  And yes, I know God is always with me, but you know what I'm talking about.  There are places and memories that when encountered the residue of God's presence is so potent you can feel it.  

I need that to face what's coming.

See, when I get restless- God is doing something.  There is a longing in me for something more- a God placed longing.  For all the good stuff I've seen the last four years- God's vision, provision, and power as well as the hearts of His children blossoming- He's got better up His sleeve.  

I want to be ready for it.

Call it a Vision Quest, call it a road trip, call it family vacation.  I call it worship.  I am seeking to Approach God, to listen for His voice, and to be changed by what I hear.  And I can do it just as well hiking up a mountain with my family as I can sitting on a bar stool (or pew, for the rest of you folks) this Sunday.  In fact, I'd argue, there are times we all need to worship outside the traditional confines of our church.  It gives us a fresh, new perspective on things, a sort of 'wide horizon' view of God.  It's God unBoxed.  It was good for Moses, Elijah, and Jesus.

So, if I'm to lead my church, I need to seek my God.  Wherever He may be.  My prayer is that we all grow a little Restless in our pursuit of God- because it means He is on the move.