You Give Them Something to Eat

What if we’ve been asking God for something he already asked us to do?

I’ve been pondering over this statement from Leif Hetland along with an illustration he gave from the story of Jesus feeding the 5000 (well actually, his disciples feeding the 5000).

And it’s been floating around in my mind ever since I first heard it in part of his Baptism of Love teaching series – what if we’ve been asking God to do something he already asked us to do? As Leif put it, “We call it prayer–he calls it disobedience.”

But the other day particularly I was thinking about it again, and disconnectedly at another time I was thinking about revival and all the people I’ve been around for the last ten years and so much of the focus has been on asking God for revival.

But what if that’s not right?

Now don’t send out a witch-hunt for me – I’m not saying God hasn’t answered the cry of the church for revival in the past, and throughout history–and those stories are amazing, I would so love to be a part of one of those revival stories. But what if that’s not exactly the model for the emerging revolution?

You give them something to eat … “

And I’ll be the first to say, “Well, God does it all – we can’t do it by ourselves – we can’t make revival happen … ” et cetera.

But the thing is, revival already happened; it happened when you were baptized. You are revival. Or at least, you should be if Jesus is still Lord.

And don’t peel off into the other ditch and say “Well Carson are you telling me I’m not really saved or something because I don’t have miracles popping out my ears?”

No. I’m saying the mustard seed that could change the world is in you. God already brought revival – now what are you going to do with it? You’re called into a royal priesthood – where is the kingdom and who will you mediate for? How can you let the revival in you out to the dry bones around you?

Or are you dead yourself, dried up, run down, burned out on praying for God to do the thing he already did in you? Maybe the gifts are dormant and covered in a layer of dust a mile thick, maybe you didn’t know that church was a place for everyone–not just a few Spiritual superstars–to be the moving parts of the body; you have a role.

So are we asking God to do things he’s already asked us to do? Just some things I want to think about for myself.

Advertisements

I Was Wrong About Tradition

Featured imageWhen I was growing up my family had a tradition. On some (but not necessarily any in particular) occasions, and usually for supper, instead of the usual prayer for the meal my parents would strike up a short chorus. My fondest memories found all ten of us crammed around our table singing this prayer, maybe to the soft tune of candle light if it were a particularly special-feeling evening. Unfortunately, it was not a common enough tradition for me to actually learn the song completely before it eventually went dark as our family spread further apart, and only today did I stop and piece it together completely in my memory, and to the best of my recollection it went something like this:

As our family gathers around this table
Where this meal has been prepared
Let all our hearts be grateful
As we offer up this prayer:

“Our Father in Heaven, for this meal you have given
We want to say thank-youthank-you from our hearts.
Bless the hands who prepared it, and now as we share it
Would you stay with us, and be our guest of Honour”

Usually when I think about tradition church comes to mind. Particularly, “traditional” church in which service structure is so deeply ingrained in its members that even the slightest deviation in program makes everyone feel awkward–particularly if you happen to be the one causing the deviation. I think of rules, regulations, and blind observation. And cages.

But when I think of that song, I don’t think of any of that. I think of my family, together, being a family. Sitting down around the table to share life together. It might just be my bad memory, but those 60 seconds of music were some of the most beautiful moments I can remember sharing with my family.

And as I remember that tradition I wonder why I’ve given tradition such a bad name. True, I’ve come from a subculture laden with empty, meaningless traditions, traditions that might have meant something to someone at some time, but are now nothing more than the routines of a well-oiled machine. But what if that’s all fake–the shadows of an empty shell, not the heart and reality of what a tradition is. What if traditions really are ways to remember who we are, but only work if we actually, you know, remember. What if tradition doesn’t mean anything unless we remember the value it celebrates? Family, togetherness, warmth, tradition. Why?

Because it’s too easy to forget.

Interpreting Jesus – Intimacy

That title really doesn’t do it justice.

I’ve been reading Beautiful Outlaw by John Eldredge, and following a recent 11-part podcast series by John and Craig of Ransomed Heart on interpreting your world, I’ve been enjoying revisiting this alternative, ulterior – yet so much more real – interpretation of Jesus that Eldredge presents in his book. It’s been altogether refreshing.

And I’ve gotta be honest. I haven’t been viewing Jesus right. I cringe as I think about that last sentence because I’m realizing something; I’ve been viewing Jesus. Viewing. Our relationship is well defined in that word, because that’s where it ends. I mean sure, I pray. I talk to him regularly. Often I hear him speaking back. But my attitude has been that Jesus is no more an interpersonal being than I am a jackrabbit.

Maybe I’m a jackrabbit.

I just don’t have an interpretation of Jesus that allows him the proximity which I believe and know (in my mind) that he wants to me. Perhaps I don’t feel significant enough for that; my interpretation includes a busy Son of God (how he is busy while chilling at the right hand of the Father I don’t know). Too busy to be intimate with me.

But Jesus, I need you to be intimate with me, My heart cries. But not only do I not have an interpretation that allows for an intimate Jesus, I don’t have any interpretation that allows for any man being intimately involved in my life. It just doesn’t exist. I won’t go into the blaring details of a confused childhood and the consequences which led me on into adult-hood without having that category of interpretation. Suffice it to say, I don’t think I know how to let Jesus be intimate with me; I don’t think I know what that looks like.

My 20 minutes of oil-pulling have somehow morphed into 25-going-on-30 – it’s time to lay this searching heart to rest.

Jesus, show your intimacy to me? I want to know you in the proximity that you want to know me. I’m not satisfied with this distance anymore.

For Those I’ve Left Behind

Close to two years ago I spoke in front of my now previous church. I shared a dream I’d had some time prior, and a vision. I spoke from my heart about the generational divide that church had been experiencing for some time and the response I received was phenomenal. But my question today is, what happened? What happened to my vision of a united body of Christ? And what happened to the seed that I scattered? Did any of it make it to good soil, or did it fall where it only withered away? Something I’ve learned is that humans cannot be entrusted to your dreams; they will fail. I’m not cynical (I don’t think) just a realist. Thank-you Father that You are faithful!

I just want to lay out a bit of my heart tonight in reflection, so if you’d rather read something educational or logical this might not be the post for you.

I know I slacked off. I phrase it in that way because 1) that’s how the voice in my head says it and 2) because saying it that way shows me the realities of the works-based strongholds still remaining in this old man. I never thought about it in this way before, but satan is continually condemning me with a works spirit, and that has been the case in these years since I gave that message. When I look back and question why it didn’t “work”, satan says, “You didn’t carry your end through..no wonder it never lasted.”

I rebuke you devil in the name of Jesus whose blood has done the work for me. Go back to your pit; Christ has granted me DOMINION over you.

But really now, why didn’t it work? Or perhaps I should ask, why did nothing appear to change? Because being led by the Spirit, anything I step out in faith to do works, because He works. We’re getting really deep into the works here but just bear with me (and no puns intended!). So I can assume that because I followed the promptings of the Spirit, the purpose was complete, and the outcome is in His hands because that is where I left it.

But what those who heard that message that day don’t know, especially considering my recent departure from them, is that my heart still has a place with an ache for them. And it only became stronger the more truth I learned, the more I allowed the love of Christ to love them through me.

This, I suppose, is why I wonder at all in the first place what became of those seeds that I scattered there.

The nature of that system was that it never really took much to scrape through the superficial surface and start dealing with root issues, because people are always real people – you just have to go deep enough. But deeper was rarely an initiative, because deeper means change, eventual discomfort, vulnerability… oh that they could have the heart for themselves as I do now. Oh that they could have the courage to step outside of the mold and feel the vulnerability and the discomfort–and the life more abundant–that cannot reach them in their doctrinal coffins.

Because they have many fundamentals to wrap around themselves to keep the unpredictable, uncontainable wind of the Spirit out, but Christ only required two: “Believe in Me, and love everyone the way I love you.”

Oh if they could see that freedom lies beyond the fog, that following Christ is always a hardship, but never a burden.

But the flames that I saw for a moment flickering to life, they died down again. And I’ve wondered, why doesn’t such change last there? If I could only make a difference, tear a hole through the veil covering the sonlight… And that old devil comes back and whispers suggestions to me, “Well do something–oh, but you can’t do anything.” And the truth is, I can’t do anything. I can’t do anything, but I don’t need to. Because maybe there are still seeds waiting in good soil for the rain, for the Spirit to pour Himself on them. Maybe the more that I ask, intercede and agree, the more good soil those seeds will be given, and the sooner will come the rain. Maybe I’m still planting though I might not realize it. Because the truth is I can’t do anything, but the Holy Spirit can do everything.

And so I will take up that armor, it’s all I can do to put on the helmet which is salvation and the defense against my enemy’s attempts to discourage, the breastplate which is righteousness and the defense against my enemy’s attempts to dishearten, the belt of truth which upholds, the sandals which are peace, that I would go in peace wherever I go. The shield of faith, which covers all again, and finally the sword which is the Spirit, because every warrior needs a weapon to fight with. And this is when I relate with Romans 8:26, because I don’t know what to pray. Not for myself, not for my wife, not for that people on my heart, not for anything.

So Spirit, make intercession for me. I don’t know what to pray, my mind only gets in the way. But I’ll speak it and agree, if You will put it in my mouth.

Feeding On Christ

I just finished watching Joseph Prince’s web-cast for today and was it ever good! Actually it was exactly what I needed to hear and it was so refreshing to hear it. He spoke on the power and authority of the word of God; it was a glorious counteraction to the ideas creeping into the Body that would demote the Word of God to mere human words, subject to chop and change over time. But Pastor Prince also spoke about the refreshing, re-energizing power of the Word, the power in the Word that separates mere human soul from Spirit in-dwelling, and I think now about how worn, discouraged, sick and burned out I’ve been. How energy-devoid I’ve been. I’ve been barely scraping along. And I haven’t been feasting on the Word. Because Jesus was right when He said, (also quoting the Word I might add,) “Man does not live by bread alone.”

Sometimes I think the denomination I came from (and probably many others also) have been so concerned about eating the best bread and the most healthy diets that they’ve missed out on the Bread of Life in the Word. I’ve been starving myself on food.

This is a perfect opportunity to share a little graphic I saw in church a couple weeks back.

The Threefold Nature of Man

This illustration comes from a man named Clarence Larkin, and as an aside you might be interested to do some research on him. He compared what he referred to as the threefold nature of man to the tabernacle – I haven’t read much about it yet, but it sounds pretty cool, and I might just have a post for it later on.

Anyway, onwards! What do we have here? Well, we have a wealth of thoughts bouncing around my head all related to this illustration and all waiting to come out for you, but I’ll go slow and leave the less-relevant subjects for their own posts.

So we are three parts: body, soul, and spirit. Our spirit is where the Spirit of God presides. Larkin compares the Most Holy Place of the tabernacle to our spirit where God now presides. Our soul is our mind. This is the part that’s still got the sin problem, because Christ replaces our sinful spirit with His spirit of perfect righteousness, but our soul is a work in progress. This is our mind that we need to renew through the Word of God and in continual prayer. And the more we feed on Christ, the more He flows out to our soul. The body is of course that hunk of meat you’re packin’ around.

We have the life of Christ on the inside of us, in our spirit. But our physical bodies will never see that life unless we feed on Him. Our souls will never see that life unless we feed on him. The Holy Spirit’s regenerating work in us is an inside-out process; we receive His life, we feed our soul on His life, and our soul speaks life to our body.

So what do I mean by starving myself with food?

I’ve been neglecting to feed my soul on the Spirit of God.

This is how the New Covenant works. We believe, and God gives us His spirit. If I do something wrong, this changes little, because the Spirit of God is still in me – He will not repeal this gift, because Jesus paid for it; I believe in Jesus and what He did for me, and I believe in the Spirit of God at work in me. Now my response is not self-condemnation, instead my response is to feed even more on the Spirit of God. The nourishment that God offers me in this way revitalizes and strengthens my soul to do what He asks of me, and my soul commands my body to act.

And how do we receive this nourishment? In communion with God. In the Word. In prayer–in praying in the spirit. Yes, I pray in the spirit. I’ll get into that in another article.

But what if we allow our food to come from other sources? What if we feed on teachings contrary to the Bible, our own ideas, the latest romance novel, un- and anti-godly movies and music, pornography (and pornography is ingraining itself in all of these to become culturally approved)… these are the foods that speak to our soul and overpower the Still Voice in our spirit, when we give reign to them. This is when we step away from God’s understanding and rely again on our own understanding as we did when we were still lost.

And what if we are already immersed in such worldly voices? This has been my confession time and time again. Not a confession of “I have sinned, please redeem me,” no, for Jesus needed only to die once, but a confession of “Jesus, I have been listening to other voices; please speak into my life again, I give you the right to be my nourishment again.”

This is my prayer now, because I haven’t fed enough from Jesus. I haven’t drunk enough from Life-giving streams.

How about you? Is this your prayer as well? I’ll stand in agreement with you over this. “Jesus, I’ve been listening to other voices than Yours. I want to only listen to you from now on. Please speak into my life again, and teach me to live on Your words alone. I declare that You are my sole–and soul–provider.”

Amen. Amen.

And Jesus, thank-you!

Intimacy = In-To-Me-See

 “God, You are my God, and I will ever [always] praise You

   God, You are my God, and I will ever praise You [right now]

   And I will seek You in the morning [before all else]

   And I will learn to walk in Your ways [teach me]

   And step by step, You lead me [I follow]

   And I will follow You all of my days [forever].”

I will follow You Today.

If I call [cry] He will answer me–will not be able to resist answering.

If I speak audibly He will respond audibly.

If I speak clearly and with clarity, He will respond with clarity.

This is what I wrote in my prayer journal on November 18, 2011, about the kind of intimacy God wants to have with me:

“God is indescribable. He is amazing. He is wonderful, beautiful, incredible… My Father…

“This is what He showed me last night. I was praying and thinking about how I wanted to hear Him audibly. And so I asked Him out loud, “God, if I speak audibly to You, will You speak audibly to me?” I asked three times before I suddenly heard… this ticking of a clock.. the babble of my artificial waterfall… even my own heart-beat crying out “Yes!”

“I had just turned out the light when I heard the puppy crying in the entryway. God told me to go minister to the puppy, and as I walked out to the entry He gave me the scripture to use–“Be still and know that the LORD, He is God.” After declaring this to the puppy several times I went back to my room and God began speaking. The puppy had begun to cry much louder after I left and I could hardly resist. God showed me that it is the same when I cry to Him; He can’t resist coming to me when I cry to Him like that puppy did.

“A little while later I asked Him a question and I wasn’t sure what He was saying, my mind became so boggled. And so I asked Him this. “God, if I speak with clarity will You respond with clarity?” and I made sure to talk audibly and ask clearly. He said yes. Then I asked Him my question again, with clarity, and He gave me a clear, clarified answer.

“Thank-you Jesus. I am learning to speak sincerely with You in the secret place. You are amazing… More than amazing!”

—–

The new covenant is chalk-full of this intimacy:

“But this is the new covenant I will make with the people of Israel on that day,” says the Lord. “I will put my instructions deep within them, and I will write them on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be my people. And they will not need to teach their neighbors, nor will they need to teach their relatives, saying, ‘You should know the Lord.’ For everyone, from the least to the greatest, will know me already,” says the Lord. “And I will forgive their wickedness, and I will never again remember their sins.”

–Jeremiah 31:33 – 34

God promises essentially to personally teach us His ways; “I will put my instructions deep within them, and I will write them on their hearts.” Not only do we receive His direct instruction, we receive it deep within us, written on our very hearts. God promises personal relationship with everyone, made possible by Christ’s offering on the cross which bridged the gap between God and man. Now, all have an opportunity to know God personally. And the final promise: “and I will never again remember their sins.” There is no longer condemnation (Romans 8:1, 33-34) in this relationship; God is free, even in all His holy justness, to be intimate with men–even such as you and I. And there isn’t a thing in existence that could ever separate us from this love God has for His people, revealed in Christ Jesus (Romans 8:31-39). I used to think Paul left out the obvious; that I could, if I wished, choose to separate myself from God’s love. But how can I? How high, how wide, how deep is the Father’s love for us? It is displayed in all creation. As long as I live in this universe, I can’t get away from the reality of God’s love for me. And there is only one separation from God – the eternal death of sin, which none need fear who belongs to Christ.

BAM! Take that.