In a recent conversation, a new friend of mine Tony helped me recall a revolutionary concept in the Kingdom, one I have mulled over, trained with and drawn strength from many times before. It is an explosive passage out of Romans 8, the ultimate name badge for all who follow Christ. We are "more than conquerors through [Christ]." If you are in Christ, that is your identity. Your calling card. Your infamy in the eyes of the enemy. The freedom in Christ that statement brings is one of the most powerful weapons in your possession. And yet...
When you think of Christians these days, what comes to mind? Nice? Mmm, yes...most people are nice these days, how does that set a Christian apart? It just makes them a firefly, not a "city on a hill." How about weird? Yep, plenty of nuts in the batter. Funny thing is, most people are allergic to them...so that's pretty counterproductive. Maybe role model? Some definitely are, some are just too legalistic to try and live up to. Too high a standard, higher than human even. What about passive? Yes, now we're getting somewhere. So many times, when I encounter a Christian, it's uncanny...it's almost like he or she is trying to be a wimp!
Introverted, non-confrontational, maybe even overly-intellectual...flinching featherlings scared of their own shadow. "What? Share my faith with somebody I may not know very well? OH NO. Maybe someday, but that's WAAAYY too scary right now." And these are the warriors of the Kingdom? Seems to me, from an outside perspective, these Christians have the need for quite a bit of butt-kicking boot camp, and then quite a bit of intense battle-hours logged into their personal stats before they even think about being called a "conqueror," let alone "more than a conqueror."
But that is exactly what Paul hand-wrote to those claiming the lordship of Christ. He didn't say, "Well, Susie is more than a conqueror, but Billy has some work to do." No, by Paul's phrasing we can infer that he is speaking of an across-the-board identity as Christians, not a status to be striven for, dependent upon what "spiritual level" we're on. See, Christ's freedom in us is the only prerequisite to this title of "More-Than-A-Conqueror." So...what does that mean for the massive population of spiritual sissies? This is where the meaning of Paul's phrase "more than conquerors" comes in.
Have you ever wondered what Paul meant here by "more than conquerors?" When I think of a conqueror, I think of a champion, a rugged individual daunted by nothing, never hesitating at the front lines of battle. I think of a William Wallace, a George Washington, a Joshua. I don't know about you, but I feel pretty far underneath those characters on the food chain! It's pretty hard to imagine what it looks like to be more than a conqueror - what's above a conqueror on the food chain?! Here's what I believe Paul was getting at: what's more than a conqueror?... a master.
Here's what I know: from the very foundations of humanity, God gave us dominion. He gave us mastery. Genesis 1:26-28 gives us an account of God's intentions for us as humans - He designed us to rule, and He gave us the character, gifts and abilities to do so masterfully. John Eldredge quotes Hebrew scholar Robert Alter in Eldre dge's wonderful work, "Waking the Dead," by pointing out the way the term rule is used in this context means "a fierce exercise of mastery." We are masterful masters - with dominion over what though?
Many things, too many to name. Some people use their mastery for good. Many people are non-productive in their mastery, many do not use it at all. And many even use it for evil. But Jesus outlines for us throughout Scripture that those in the Kingdom of God have received (from Jesus Himself) mastery over so much more than tangible creation.
Followers of Christ hold mastery over things unseen, spiritual forces, things of the spiritual Kingdom hiding from our physical sight. This is where the cowardly conquerors bow out of the fight. In Luke 10: 19, Jesus says, "I have given you authority...to overcome all the power of the enemy." ALL the power of the enemy??? If that's not mastery, I don't know what is.
It's innate in every Christian, given as a huge part of our redeemed life - yet it is arguably the most untapped resource in the life of the average-Joe Christian. Mastery. Most Christ-followers just write-off the small things as bad luck, unfortunate circumstances, sin...fill in the blank with your own words. Then we wonder why God allows evil to cycle through this beaten-up old world? It makes more sense to me that there is an enemy of our souls, and this opposition needs opposed. Who better to oppose it than the chosen people, the royal priesthood, the holy nation, to whom Christ gave this mastery over death and all its harbingers? That's us by the way, the Chosen. We all have this status of mastery...some just don't know it yet, and still others choose not to walk in this inheritance.
I find it funny that, upon researching the stance of passivity and nonviolence (for the sake of spiritual conversation, that is) there is a stance people often take called "passive resistance." Sounds a lot like an oxymoron, eh? The dictionary defines "passive resistance" as "opposition to a government or to specific laws by the use of noncooperation or other nonviolent methods." Demonstrators and activists often choose to take this stance to oppose this and that, and I'm sure it's admirable and full of integrity in many circumstances. As I ponder this stance's implications for the Kingdom of God, though, it's obvious this method wouldn't work very well with spiritual forces hell-bent on destroying our eternal selves. What's more, I find that more often than not, Christians have been taking a "passive resistance" approach to following Christ. Far too many Christians do not believe there is spiritual warfare taking place in our daily lives. In this age of Christianity, it's almost faux pas to believe there are spirits engaged against us, trying to tear down our spirits, our marriages, our families.
C'mon, think about it...it's simple cause-and-effect, right? If there is strife in the world, something has to be causing it, correct? Can all that pulls us away from our original design as masters simply be ignored? Are there no forces at work against that which is for the good of the world and humanity? These are hard questions to wrestle with, but there is a fight before us. Like it or not, it's there, staring us in the face. What are we to do?
It's time to take mastery over that which was meant to be mastered. It's time to rise up in our design and be masters of something greater than ourselves, greater than our often-back-peddling capacity for self. If you don't believe in your identity as a master in Christ's Kingdom, or see no need for it, then your faith is pointless. You are just treading water until the afterlife, unproductively preening for an unimpressed God. This Kingdom, like every thriving earthly kingdom, does not function off the unproductive members. Those branches of the Kingdom tree get pruned in the end.
So hey, don't get pruned. Walk in your mastery as God's dominion-holder, and thus fulfill your calling, your purpose in this life: to master the elements of good and evil through the power of the Holy Spirit for God's eternal glory. Don't back away from that, step into it.
Saturday, October 11, 2014
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Pagans at Sunset
Thought I'd share some lyrics from a song I started a while back. It's a pretty neat song - definitely not my best, but it definitely has a charming character to it. It all started when I was walking down our driveway in NC a few months back. It was one of those sunsets that just melts in the sky - that's when the first two lines, along with a melody, jumped to mind. If you know me at all, you know I love love LOVE looking at the night sky, especially the stars. Here's a little excerpt from what I've got so far:
Daylight exit stage right
The setting sun runs down the canvas of another day
Ancient stars hum a quiet chorus
line
Comets scurry, whirring down the
fast lane of the Milky Way
And in the middle of these dark,
lonely nights
I can see you in the details of my
life
It's difficult to write a song about things as overused as the sunset or the stars without falling prey to cliche, but I think the difference maker is what I think of nearly every time I look at the sky: How can anyone believe there is no God? How can people have the absence of mind - the audacity really - to believe everything was created by random chance, that the universe is held together by a thread of cosmic whim. It's ludicrous, honestly...just plain silly to me. There is no conviction, no honor or integrity in that mindset - basically, you believe there is everything because of nothing. No reason, just opinions built on blasé platitudes of meaningless garble. Scripture brings up a word for these people, and it pretty much hits the nail on the head: pagans.
When I say "pagan," I'm referring to the King-James-Version term used so often throughout Scripture, a term I would define as pretty much someone who either willingly or ignorantly explains life away without the need for God...most of the time, willingly (much to my inability to explain). They think they've got it all figured out, living from the capacity of self and nothing more. Nothing more than they can explain. Nothing more than they can reason. Nothing more than what's right in front of their face. The problem is...that's pretty laughably foolish. To put it plainly, it's downright pagan, savage and ignorant to come to the conclusion that there's basically no source to life. My heart is heavy for these people, actually - I want them to bend from their intellectual penchants for a minute and consider the God, the Maker standing before them. There is intention in every sunrise, in every waterfall, in every planet. There is intention in our lives as well.
If you have faith enough in the nonsensical belief that the universe began for no reason, with no meaning, with no author - whether you realize it or not, I'd bet you also believe there is just about as little meaning behind your life. Ripe with disdain and confusion over your meaning and identity, blind to the very source of life itself. Yes, blind to it. Willingly blind, in fact. Because only someone so wounded and poisoned toward the notion of God would hold such an obviously bone-headed, completely-and-utterly wacky worldview. Just look at the stars...really look at them. Look at nature. Look. See. Observe intentional beauty. Intentional. Doesn't it make more sense? It should make all the sense in the world, and if it doesn't, like I said before, I'd check for blinders.
If you have faith enough in the nonsensical belief that the universe began for no reason, with no meaning, with no author - whether you realize it or not, I'd bet you also believe there is just about as little meaning behind your life. Ripe with disdain and confusion over your meaning and identity, blind to the very source of life itself. Yes, blind to it. Willingly blind, in fact. Because only someone so wounded and poisoned toward the notion of God would hold such an obviously bone-headed, completely-and-utterly wacky worldview. Just look at the stars...really look at them. Look at nature. Look. See. Observe intentional beauty. Intentional. Doesn't it make more sense? It should make all the sense in the world, and if it doesn't, like I said before, I'd check for blinders.
Saturday, May 17, 2014
The Middle Man
I had heartburn for quite some time. For well over a couple years actually. Constant, die-hard heartburn. But God healed me a couple weeks ago...yep, healed me of heartburn, straight up. Sounds silly maybe. But I'm not talking about the Pepto or Prilosec kind.
It's no secret to anyone who knows me that I have a crazy passion for songwriting. And when I say passion, I mean a frenzied freeway of fervor buzzing through my bloodstream non-stop. I lose sleep over songs all the time. I fall asleep many nights dissecting and analyzing the lyrics of any given song I'm pounding away on, trying to hone in on the very word, syllable, rhyme pattern, metric nuance or thematic content that will better describe the verbal picture I'm trying to paint. It's locked away somewhere, and if I feel something can be better in my song, I will wrestle with the song until I unlock the best in it.
Our passions are good, God-given even. Every passion at its core is a gift of God and an avenue to honor Him, help others on their journey and bring us to a point of personal wholeness. Even the most grotesque, hell-bent, soul-degenerating "passions" have their root in God's design. The root of pornography is lust, and when we ask God redeem the lust in our hearts, we notice that at its root, lust is warped love. God gifted this world with a clean, healthy, Christ-centered version of love; but in humanity's brokenness, we warped love into something more artificial, something easier to replicate and quicker to satiate our need for love. Hence, pornography. Make sense? For more on this, see John Eldredge's fabulous book, Desire.
So, that's where my passion for songwriting enters again. You see, my God-given passion for songwriting soured. My passion was being fed by entitlement. I felt I had the right to expect God to use my songwriting gifts in the way I wanted, in the ways I thought best - according to my own agenda. And like any tree, when it's fed by something other than what God intended (like entitlement), it is slowly warped and dies. Try growing a sapling using only Dr. Pepper instead of water and see what happens.
For the past couple years, I have been so frustrated that my songwriting hasn't gone much farther than family and relatively close friends. I've been so tense and antsy for my songwriting to sprout wings and fly into the blue sky by-and-by, but all I've had is a completely grounded feeling. It's even more frustrating when I know God has gifted me tremendously in this area of my life, and that I get these almost premonitional feelings that they were given to me to be used in a huge capacity. I've had an especially frequent amount of heartburn for my worship songs, ones I know God has plans for because they are so incredibly anointed beyond my comprehension - like they were plucked right out of the angels' mouths in heaven. But still...no headway. It's one of the most frustrating things requiring a divinely-inspired amount of patience in this life: stewarding something with such huge potential, yet not seeing the return as quickly as we'd like.
Let me clear something up too: God's not coming to us like we're a lost and found either. He's not saying, "Oh yes! I misplaced this, thank you for returning it!" God was very intentional about what gifts He planted in our hearts. A few weeks back our pastor was talking a little about the Parable of the Talents, as found in Matthew 25:14-30. As someone who grew up in the church, this is one of those stories I've heard about a million-and-one times. But it's uncanny how God usually speaks through stuff we've heard a million-and-one times.
I was reflecting on this story a couple months back while driving to a gig one day, and it was like God revealed a long-awaited answer to me in a flash. I'd asked God to deal with my heart concerning my gifts and the way my heart burned like a wildfire to use them in huge ways. It's a big burden to carry. But God brought to mind this parable, and it sparked the answer to a question I've had for a very long time: why does the master commend the first and the second servants equally? The first servant was given 5 talents, and he invested them and returned 10 to the master; the second servant was given 2 talents, and he invested them and returned 4 to the master...but the master commended both servants verbatim, saying "Well done good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master."
I've always wondered why the master commends them equally. The first servant returned with way more talents for the master's use, but the master saw no difference. Why? Because God looks at the heart (1 Samuel 16:7). It all boils down to what the servants did with what the master gave them: they invested it. As long as we give all the effort we can to invest with what God gives us, God will count the return by His economy, not our. Thank God.
You see, a huge factor in all this is not what the first two servants returned with, but what they were given. At the beginning of the parable, Jesus says something reassuring in Mt. 25:15: he says the master gave them talents "each according to his ability." That's where God struck a chord in me. All this time, I've been wondering why my worship songs weren't getting out there like Hillsong's or even the church we attend, Elevation. We are part of such a dynamic move of God through Elevation church, but as close as it is to my grasp, my dreams couldn't seem further away. But through this parable, God wanted me to rest in the fact that it's ok to be the second servant. I have to be ok with my current role as the middle man. Why? Is God trying to make me settle for less? No. He's trying to make me realize that all these other people I'm comparing myself to, all the success around me that I'm envious of, is all because God has gifted those people in different capacities, perhaps with more talents, more opportunities, more connections, more pathways - according to their ability.
Right now, in the very place I'm at, in the very place you're at in your life, God has given us talents according to our abilities right now. Not according to our future abilities, or our past abilities for that matter. He's observing how we invest what He's given us right now. Our current abilities may not be able to handle all the burdens and responsibilities that come with using our gifts on a grand scale. And that makes you really appreciate the one who are using the same gifts God's given you, only on a grand scale. Maybe someday I'll be ready to handle the pressure and weight that comes with using my songwriting on a grand scale, but I'm definitely not ready yet. In the meantime, though, it's still my responsibility to give all the energy I've got investing what God did give me...even if it's only 2 talents for now.
I suppose the second servant could have chosen to become envious of the first servant, saying, "No fair, master! Why does he get 5 but I only get 2?" Pout pout, wah wah. But here's the thing: if I don't invest what I have, even if it's only 1 talent like the notorious third servant got, I will not be entrusted with more someday. God only entrusts more to those who prove they can manage less. Once God sees that you have invested to the fullness of your ability with the little He's given you, He will give you more. It's like a father watching a child eat dinner - once the child has polished off the mashed potatoes, scarfed down the chicken nuggets, and given a valiant effort on the creamed corn, the father will gladly put some more nuggets and taters on the child's plate when the child is ready for it - along with some tasty carrot cake!
Now that I'm hungry, let me conclude with a message to those of us who are the second servant in the story: we have to be ok with it! It's not a demotion. It's not God dissin' us. It's Him protecting us from being in a position outside our ability to handle. Just be faithful with what you've been given right now and invest it. Only then can God trust you with more. And that is extremely comforting to a discouragement-ridden soul - it's the healing for the heartburn.
Our passions are good, God-given even. Every passion at its core is a gift of God and an avenue to honor Him, help others on their journey and bring us to a point of personal wholeness. Even the most grotesque, hell-bent, soul-degenerating "passions" have their root in God's design. The root of pornography is lust, and when we ask God redeem the lust in our hearts, we notice that at its root, lust is warped love. God gifted this world with a clean, healthy, Christ-centered version of love; but in humanity's brokenness, we warped love into something more artificial, something easier to replicate and quicker to satiate our need for love. Hence, pornography. Make sense? For more on this, see John Eldredge's fabulous book, Desire.
So, that's where my passion for songwriting enters again. You see, my God-given passion for songwriting soured. My passion was being fed by entitlement. I felt I had the right to expect God to use my songwriting gifts in the way I wanted, in the ways I thought best - according to my own agenda. And like any tree, when it's fed by something other than what God intended (like entitlement), it is slowly warped and dies. Try growing a sapling using only Dr. Pepper instead of water and see what happens.
It's about more than just a nonchalant attitude concerning our giftings and passions - like, "Here ya go, God, I guess this is yours. I'm not where I'd rather be in life, but I guess I owe you this much." That clenched-fist mentality in regards to what we're passionate about will get us nowhere quick; thinking only in terms of our agenda instead of God's purpose will undercut our very souls, along with God's plan for our lives.
For the past couple years, I have been so frustrated that my songwriting hasn't gone much farther than family and relatively close friends. I've been so tense and antsy for my songwriting to sprout wings and fly into the blue sky by-and-by, but all I've had is a completely grounded feeling. It's even more frustrating when I know God has gifted me tremendously in this area of my life, and that I get these almost premonitional feelings that they were given to me to be used in a huge capacity. I've had an especially frequent amount of heartburn for my worship songs, ones I know God has plans for because they are so incredibly anointed beyond my comprehension - like they were plucked right out of the angels' mouths in heaven. But still...no headway. It's one of the most frustrating things requiring a divinely-inspired amount of patience in this life: stewarding something with such huge potential, yet not seeing the return as quickly as we'd like.
Let me clear something up too: God's not coming to us like we're a lost and found either. He's not saying, "Oh yes! I misplaced this, thank you for returning it!" God was very intentional about what gifts He planted in our hearts. A few weeks back our pastor was talking a little about the Parable of the Talents, as found in Matthew 25:14-30. As someone who grew up in the church, this is one of those stories I've heard about a million-and-one times. But it's uncanny how God usually speaks through stuff we've heard a million-and-one times.
I was reflecting on this story a couple months back while driving to a gig one day, and it was like God revealed a long-awaited answer to me in a flash. I'd asked God to deal with my heart concerning my gifts and the way my heart burned like a wildfire to use them in huge ways. It's a big burden to carry. But God brought to mind this parable, and it sparked the answer to a question I've had for a very long time: why does the master commend the first and the second servants equally? The first servant was given 5 talents, and he invested them and returned 10 to the master; the second servant was given 2 talents, and he invested them and returned 4 to the master...but the master commended both servants verbatim, saying "Well done good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master."
I've always wondered why the master commends them equally. The first servant returned with way more talents for the master's use, but the master saw no difference. Why? Because God looks at the heart (1 Samuel 16:7). It all boils down to what the servants did with what the master gave them: they invested it. As long as we give all the effort we can to invest with what God gives us, God will count the return by His economy, not our. Thank God.
You see, a huge factor in all this is not what the first two servants returned with, but what they were given. At the beginning of the parable, Jesus says something reassuring in Mt. 25:15: he says the master gave them talents "each according to his ability." That's where God struck a chord in me. All this time, I've been wondering why my worship songs weren't getting out there like Hillsong's or even the church we attend, Elevation. We are part of such a dynamic move of God through Elevation church, but as close as it is to my grasp, my dreams couldn't seem further away. But through this parable, God wanted me to rest in the fact that it's ok to be the second servant. I have to be ok with my current role as the middle man. Why? Is God trying to make me settle for less? No. He's trying to make me realize that all these other people I'm comparing myself to, all the success around me that I'm envious of, is all because God has gifted those people in different capacities, perhaps with more talents, more opportunities, more connections, more pathways - according to their ability.
Right now, in the very place I'm at, in the very place you're at in your life, God has given us talents according to our abilities right now. Not according to our future abilities, or our past abilities for that matter. He's observing how we invest what He's given us right now. Our current abilities may not be able to handle all the burdens and responsibilities that come with using our gifts on a grand scale. And that makes you really appreciate the one who are using the same gifts God's given you, only on a grand scale. Maybe someday I'll be ready to handle the pressure and weight that comes with using my songwriting on a grand scale, but I'm definitely not ready yet. In the meantime, though, it's still my responsibility to give all the energy I've got investing what God did give me...even if it's only 2 talents for now.
I suppose the second servant could have chosen to become envious of the first servant, saying, "No fair, master! Why does he get 5 but I only get 2?" Pout pout, wah wah. But here's the thing: if I don't invest what I have, even if it's only 1 talent like the notorious third servant got, I will not be entrusted with more someday. God only entrusts more to those who prove they can manage less. Once God sees that you have invested to the fullness of your ability with the little He's given you, He will give you more. It's like a father watching a child eat dinner - once the child has polished off the mashed potatoes, scarfed down the chicken nuggets, and given a valiant effort on the creamed corn, the father will gladly put some more nuggets and taters on the child's plate when the child is ready for it - along with some tasty carrot cake!
Now that I'm hungry, let me conclude with a message to those of us who are the second servant in the story: we have to be ok with it! It's not a demotion. It's not God dissin' us. It's Him protecting us from being in a position outside our ability to handle. Just be faithful with what you've been given right now and invest it. Only then can God trust you with more. And that is extremely comforting to a discouragement-ridden soul - it's the healing for the heartburn.
Monday, March 3, 2014
Rylynn
I'm ready for the journey. Jodi and I are so ready. I knew from way back in our engagement days that Jodi would make a stellar mom someday. She's got that knack, all the tangible love and intangible wisdom and discretion that makes for the perfect mother. It's going to be so fun to be Rylynn's mommy and daddy. She's 9 weeks old now and sharper than ever. The pediatrician said way back at her first appointment that she "hit the ground running." And she really did - it seems like everything she's done so far has been ahead of schedule. All the little things like lifting her head and sleeping through the night (thanks God). She's easing us into parenthood rather nicely.
My biggest workshop in parenting this little girl through these early stages is going to be my self-interest. Seems like an obvious pursuit, but it's been strangely apparent in these first few weeks...again, in the little things. Setting her down throughout the day to go do something of interest to me instead of holding her or something. Being focused on following my favorite show on Netflix instead of being intentional about creating memories. Given, she's still too young to be interacting with us, playing with toys or valuing a good-night story, but still. Eh, I know I'm over-thinking, over-analyzing. That's good though, in the sense that she'll always get my best effort as her father. I will always be a better father than I give myself credit for.
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