Fright vs. Fear

How easily distracted we are from engaging the things that scare us. Well, that is, normally. This week, however, we will engage, coax, entice, imitate, and set aside time specifically for “fright.” Halloween is a debate all by itself within the Christian sub-culture, but the very fact that it is firmly embedded inside and oddly endearing to our cultural psyche betrays our love/hate relationship with “fright.”

Lucy, in the Peanuts classic, “It’s the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown,” has this wonderfully wry comment as she dresses in her ghastly witch’s costume that the rationale in selecting a Halloween costume is to pick one that is exactly opposite your normal personality. She, the witchiest of all the Peanuts gang, really thinks she is the saintliest!

But all the same, whether we dress up like witches or denounce participating in the pagan revelries of Halloween at all, we like to dabble in fright. It sends surges of adrenaline (which fuels the flight impulse) or noradrenalin (which fuels the fight impulse) through our moderately passive bloodstream all the other 364 other nights of the year. We like to tease the brain—which God made to expertly respond to potentially harmful stimuli with an amazingly complex cooperation of nervous, circulatory, endocrine, respiratory, and muscular systems of confront a dangerous world—without actually having to be in danger. Why else do we rent the suspense thrillers? Why else do we skydive? Why else do we caffeinate every morning? We like the rush of energy without exactly inviting the danger to come too close. Sometimes, ironically, we have even come to depend on the chemicals associated with fighting or fleeing fright in order to feel “alive.”

But fear, on the other hand, exists outside the material world; beneath the layer of "fright." What Lucy does not touch on and what Halloween cannot unfold is that we have deep fear even without the physical stimulus of fright. We automate fear in our minds and souls, quite separately from our brains and hearts. What do we do with this kind of fear—the fear of a spiritual kind? These are the fears that send us into panic, that cause us to lose sleep (or lose the desire to stop sleeping). These are the fears that color our perception of reality, feeding themselves and providing false validation that danger really exists, even when it does not—a filter through which we interpret all our experience. This kind of fear is debilitating; and it is inseparable from the human condition on this, the “dark side” of Eden.

A blog’s thimbleful of discussion on this ocean of fear is hardly worthy of the time to write or read. But may it be at least a post-sign hammered into the earth next to our journey’s pathway. We live in, with, beside fear—what will we do with it?

Gary Smalley in his book, The DNA of Relationships, provides a great starting point for this entire subject—especially when two fearful people interact with their fears and with each other in close and prolonged proximity. Fear is where we live, but will we obey it as our master? We can react to fear, which almost always takes the shape of self-protection or self-exaltation, which leads to lashing out against or withdrawing from those people who have wittingly or unwittingly triggered our hurts, which uncovers a unmet want/need, which aggravates more fear, which triggers the other person’s hurts, unmet wants/needs, fears, etc. It is a “dance”; it is a vicious cycle, and it is a graceless relationship. Sometimes, it seems like we react to our fear in precisely the way that causes the greatest fear in our “dance partner” to shout out.

But there is another way; the vicious cycle of reacting to fear can be broken. We can in faith respond to fear (with God’s power!), taking personal responsibility for our “pieces” of the situation, giving God our wants/needs, choosing to forgive and ask for forgiveness quickly and frequently, redefining what it means to “win” so that both parties can feel honored and cared for, and keep our own “batteries charged” so that fear (which never really goes away) can trigger us to greater faith (instead of flesh) during the next cycle around this "dance floor."

So, take your frights out this Saturday night, but leave your fears at the foot of the cross. “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore, we will not fear” (Psalm 46:1-2).

October 25, 2009 -- A Mighty Fortress (Psalm 46)

October 18, 2009 -- Abraham & Isaac (Genesis 22)

I Can't Believe I Missed Grace

I can't believe I missed grace. Having spent my normal, week-long meditation upon, study of, and writing out the sermon on Genesis 12:10-20--and my 30 minutes actually preaching it from the pulpit--I still missed it. It was only after the sermon, after the closing song, after meeting and greeting the people as they filed out of the auditorium that Don mentioned, "Isn't that amazing about grace." "Was grace in the passage this morning?" I thought.

Hmmm. Yes, there it is. In the middle of the details and the narrative of this ancient passage is the presence and extension of grace. I can't believe I missed grace.

Even though Abram blew it royally (hiding behind Sarai as a human shield, literally) he was still given great wealth: "and gave him sheep and oxen and donkeys..." (vs. 16). Even though he, humanly speaking, threatened the "seed" aspect of the covenant by putting Sarai into danger--she was absconded into the harem of Pharaoh because Abram did not believe that God would indeed protect him like he said He would--"I will bless you...and the one who curses you I will curse" (vs. 3). Even though he proceeded forward with his dastardly premeditated "Plan B" to protect his interests (even above his wife's welfare)...God still allowed Abram to receive great wealth through the agency of Pharaoh!

That's a picture of grace if ever there were one! God actively shows His favor toward the ones who are actively disfavorable in identity and activity.

You know what, I can believe I missed grace--I've missed it so many times. But even to this actively disfavorable one--who misses grace despite a complete work-week spent hovering around this passage--God actively shows His favor for His own glory.

Here's the link to the audio file, but don't miss grace like I did:
www.fellowshipsiloam.org/audio/2009_10_04_ABE&SARAH

Image of God

Image is not left entirely to the imagination. While there is great speculation about what the “image of God” stamped into each and every human might include—reason, communication, conscience, intellect, love, freedom, compassion, trichotomy of body, soul, spirit, immortality of the spirit, creativity, capacity to receive the word of God—there are some definite pieces we can know for certain.

Sprite® ads suggest that “image is everything.” Life coaches might suggest that image is anything you can think it to be. But God communicates that image—His image, which He has woven into us as integral to our being as DNA is to our body—conveys dignity, ownership, responsibility, and a unified plurality that is above gender, above ability, above productivity, above culture, and above time.

Whatever it might be—and many speculations are probably part of the recipe, no doubt—the “image of God” at a bare minimum carries these characteristics (my working definition):

· The image of God makes humans unique to all of creation in essence, long before human behavioral traits were even in operation.
· The image of God is bestowed upon males and females together.
· The image of God privileges all humans with such inherent dignity that if a human life is taken, the human life of the aggressor is forfeited (Gen 9).
· The image of God makes humans more like God (in a non-physical sense) than the rest of creation; yet without making humans mini-gods in any sense.
· The image of God transfers the unified plurality of the Godhead to the unified plurality of humans in some sense, particularly in the marriage bond.
· The image of God makes relationship with the Trinity possible, desirable, and enjoyable in a way that no other created thing understands or participates; not even the angels. And likewise, somehow the image of God makes relationship with spouses possible, desirable, and enjoyable in a way that is unparalleled in any other corner of creation.
· The image of God is also functionally connected to the role given to man and woman to rule and subdue the earth—in other words, humans were specifically designed to be God’s vice-regents on earth, uniquely connected to the earth yet specially inbreathed by the breath of God and imprinted with the image of God.

The person on your left, on your right, speaking into the microphone that is relayed through your radio, teaching your children, washing your car, sharing your name, getting mail at your mailbox, looking back at you in the bathroom mirror—each one bears the “image of God.” The question then is this—how are you bearing that Image? How are you relating that Image in your spider-web of relationships? How are you fleshing out that Image at work, at play, at home, at church, at large? We were imaged for a reason.

Breaking Inertia

The hardest part is just getting started. Today was back to school day. The kids are all extra tired, overwhelmed, convinced that their subjects are too hard and their days are too long, at least one of their teachers is too strict, and sure that something like a 5-paragraph essay looms in the near future. "Yes, that may be true" begins the Dad reply, "but you have just done the hardest part--you have broken inertia." [Disregard the "what's inertia?" whine.]


Supertechnically, there must be more inertia in late August facing a return to *school* than there is keeping the space shuttle on its launch pad. Gravity must have greater influence in the matters of transitioning a child's orientation from Summer to Fall. But the hardest part is over. To fully break free from the gravitational pull of summer will take a full month, true. But the hardest part of the hardest part is over.


So it is with all of us, whether we return to school or to the post-summertime routine. Ah, yes, but the hardest part is almost over now that we have crossed through that eventless/eventful "first day" threshold. Perhaps there will be a groove we can all find. Perhaps there will be an updraft we can all navigate. Perhaps there will be a little more confidence, a little more determination, a little more delight in "day two." Perhaps we will find that grace is already in place. Well ... you know ... the hardest part of the hardest part is just getting started. Lord, help us.

Can't Be Polite About This

To tell you the truth, I am so completely fed up … sick and tired … downright spitting angry at my pesky, tricky, uninvited, unrelenting tendency toward sin (e.g. my “flesh”). Grrr. No matter if I fill my mind with the higher virtues of grace and mercy, practice love and generosity, or meditate on patience and contentment—my “flesh” is there the whole time, as able to poison the work of God in me after a breakthrough in spiritual development as it is able to calcify the work of God in me after a breakdown in spiritual discipline. Double Grrr.

In our Christian subculture we often talk in such ways to suggest that one of our core values is politeness; that impoliteness is a chief sin. But I can't be polite about this—I hate sin. More specifically and because I have a front row seat, I hate my sin. I hate my expertise in sinning. I hate my self-justification before, during, and after sinning. I hate that my sins are thematic; that they are often the same core issues reemerging over and over again. I hate that my sin never remains just my sin; it eeks out to harm those whom I love dearly, whether directly or indirectly (there are no victimless sins). I hate, Hate, HATE this.

Sure, the Lord has caused me to be faithful with regard to those sins that are culturally unacceptable: stealing, murdering, speaking against University of Arkansas sports teams. But I hate my sin with regard to those culturally acceptable vices: self-righteousness, self-ambition, self-exaltation. True, these so-called “minor” sins rarely see the “light of day,” but they run like mice in the walls of my heart. “Don’t appear weak.” “Make sure he knows it was you who did that kind deed.” “Don’t be the first one to apologize.” “If you can’t win, don’t play at all.” “Keep some leverage for the future.” Triple Grrr.

But the piece that infuriates me most; I can’t overcome my “flesh” with my “flesh.” In other words, I am powerless to correct, not to mention cure, my internal bend toward self, which operates in league with the world system and the enemy (1 John 2:15-18). I cannot strengthen my resolve to stand against my pride, for instance, or else my resolve becomes self-righteousness because it does not spring from faith in Christ. I cannot strengthen my humility enough to undo my tendency to put my wants/needs ahead of those wants/needs of others or else my humility becomes a dead work. I cannot successfully tell myself, “Don’t think of revenge, don’t think of revenge, don’t think of revenge” without … you guessed it … thinking of revenge more than ever. In the end I am doubly wrong—for the sin and for the attempt at self-redemption to fix myself. I cannot overcome my “flesh” with my “flesh.” Hallelujah, we are forgiven for even these sins through the perfect propitiation of Christ’s sacrifice—nevertheless, I hate that I am powerless in my own strength to escape sin’s gravitation pull on me.

But there is hope. Although we cannot overcome our “flesh” with our “flesh,” we were never meant to be our own messiah. The one Messiah is Messiah enough for the universe and for all time. Stop trying to overcome and start trusting that Christ has already overcome the world, the devil, and yes … even the principle of sin housed in what we call “the flesh.” This is the life of faith—“put on the Lord Jesus Christ and make no provision for the flesh in regard to its lusts” (Romans 13:14). Grrreat is our God!

A Better Country

John Adams on the thrilling occasion of the successful vote to make a formal Declaration of Independence wrote to his wife Abigail back at the farm in Massachusetts, “I am apt to believe that [this day] will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the Day of Deliverance by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty” (David McCullough, John Adams, 2001, p. 130).

Language was drafted. A document was written. And on July 4, the Declaration of Independence was ratified, authenticated, and printed thus formally and publicly severing America’s allegiance with Great Britain. All of this, of course, was high treason; punishable by death—but the chance to create a better country from scratch was worth it.

It is a great page out of the history books; one that fills me with pride and gratitude. I wave the red, white, and blue with my chest out and my chin up. For many Americans this event is so sacred an event that even to suggest that it is eclipsed by a greater, a better, a higher idea sounds like betrayal.

Yet, there is something that eclipses even this euphoric nostalgia and reverie; as great and as proper as it is. Adams alluded to it himself in a letter written on the eve of the historic vote, “there is nothing on this side of Jerusalem of equal importance to mankind” (p. 126). America pales in comparison to the New Jerusalem.

Ours is a great history; but there is a better Story. Ours is a marvelous citizenship; but it is secondary at best to our true citizenship to the kingdom of Christ—just as real and true as our precious republic, and even more so, though it is temporarily invisible. Our ideal civil government with its genius balance of power, “of the people, by the people, and for the people” is gloriously eclipsed by “the Son given to us upon whose shoulders the government will be, whose name will be called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Eternal Father, Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6).

Ours is a good country; but there is an even better country still…infinitely so. Come, Lord Jesus.

“All these died in faith, without receiving the promises, but having seen them and having welcomed them from a distance, and having confessed that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For those who say such things make it clear that they are seeking a country of their own. And indeed if they had been thinking of that country from which they went out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; for He has prepared a city for them” (Hebrews 11:13-16).

Soul Addition

Soul addition, what a concept. I am sure that I am not alone in my ability to mindlessly rattle off several of the usual culprits and conditions that famously subtract from the soul. [Deleted is my quick list that offers nothing constructive--ugh!] But to list ingredients that actually add to the soul ... now that is tough. And if I have difficulty in thinking of soul-health-additives, then how precarious is my soul at the edge of malnutrition.

With the season of summer, the *sigh* in the middle of the year, and the blessing of vacation, I want to be about soul addition. Brainstorm with me--what adds to the soul? And more specifically, what adds to your soul? My list is just an impetus. Add your own edits.

*Silence adds to my soul (in limited doses)

*Natural beauty and grand, non-industrialized landscapes add to my soul

*Laughter, music, coffee, and art add to my soul

*Tears for someone other than myself (admittedly rare) add to my soul

*Companionship can add to my soul, but not to the exclusion of solitude

*Realizing my incredible smallness in comparison to the current in which I swim surprisingly adds to my soul

*Fresh-fruit smoothies and the Sunday comics must make this list of soul addition

*A sharp pencil with a good eraser and a blank sheet of paper adds to my soul

*Deliberate "pausing"--being intentionally unproductive--adds to my soul (but I cringe each time)

*Exercise adds to my soul, especially hiking on new-to-me trails

*Fireflies at dusk and dragonflies at noon add to my soul (not mosquitoes, however)

*Experiencing the bliss of my wife and children when they are finding soul addition adds to my soul

*Crumbling up this and all lists adds to my soul...