"Though Seeing, They Do Not See."

Matthew 13:13 (New International Version)

"This is why I speak to them in parables:
'Though seeing, they do not see;
though hearing, they do not hear or understand.'"

Today, Lisa and I met with a group of people who call their church "Church of God." (This is not to be confused with the Church of God that is in North Carolina.) Basically this church believes that you cannot have salvation until you accept two things: (1) that there is a God the Mother and (2) that you can only have eternal life if you take a rigidly detailed view of the Passover.

While I don't want to get too detailed about what their cult believes, I just wanted to explain something the Holy Spirit revealed to me today.

You know when you are approached by people of a cult and they begin to take you on a furiously flipping, head-spinning journey through the Bible and seem to disprove everything you say? Yes, well...this same thing happened today. In the past, I used to get really frustrated because either I didn't know how to argue them back, or...after having studied the Scriptures to where I know where I stand on certain issues, I would get frustrated because they wouldn't listen to anything I had to say. Today's frustration was the latter. The man explaining to us (Phil) would point to one verse out of context, and when I would try to explain the context, he'd move on to another point. No matter what I said, he wasn't having it. Then he showed us Matthew 13:13 and the Holy Spirit was like, "See, Jessica?"

Phil was using the verse to explain that Lisa and I were blinded because we don't believe in God the Mother. Ironically, I realized exactly why I couldn't voice any of the rebuttals in my head: If the man speaking to me was blind, he wasn't going to get the Truth anyway. If he is choosing to be blind, then I will be casting pearls before swine--the age-old tactic that Satan uses in order to waste a believer's time.

Let it suffice to say: If you are ever discouraged because a cult follower seems to have the upper hand in a theological debate, just remember that it's not about you winning the debate. If they are blind, they are blind. Maybe the Spirit didn't want you to waste words. You can't convince people just because you are willing to convince them. The Spirit has to be ready for that person. If the Spirit is not ready, nothing you say is going to change their mind. In other words, be encouraged that the Spirit is using you, even if it's not the way you expect.

This is why prayer is the only real way of getting anything done. Pray for cult followers. They are lead by very very clever--yet entirely defeatable--demons. Some people cannot be convinced by evidence. . .but they can be by the Holy Spirit's moving. Pray for them.

Finding Pasture in John 10:9

John 10:9 (English Standard Version)
"I am the door. If anyone enters by me, he will be saved and will go in and out and find pasture."

This is one of those moments where I just now realized something that I've largely ignored all my life. Specifically, I'm talking about the last nine words of that verse: "and will go in and out and find pasture."

Up until now, I'd realized the first part and surrounding verses talking about how Jesus is our Shepherd and how we are His sheep. I got that. Sunday school teachers always talked about how the shepherd would sit at the door of the fold for two reasons (1) to protect the sheep and (2) keep the enemies out. Those two concepts were easy for me to understand within the realm of my conservative upbringing...but...this verse actually brings up a third point: (3) Truth is found in the Bible, and Truth can be found outside the Bible--but we can only determine Truth after we have entered through the "Jesus door."

What I found so interesting is that the words do not say, "and will go IN and find pasture." You'd expect the verse to say that if you looked at most churches today: The congregation finds the church to be the only truly "safe" place. Christians buy only Christian things. Christians have only Christian friends. Christians are stereotypically stuffy and self-righteous. Christians get offended when non-Christians don't act like Christians. And on and on . . .

However, the verse doesn't say that. The verse says that we can go in and out freely. I'm not advocating relativism. I'm advocating that in order for Jesus to be the truest "door," He will have to be true in any circumstance for any person in any location. This means that after learning about Christ, we can listen to secular song with our eyes opened. Instead of switching the radio off in disgust, we can listen to the hearts of the searching people who wrote the song and pray that God would give us the words to minister to someone else with that mindset.

Also, we don't just come "in" once and get our "Jesus fix" and then stay out in the world. There is constant, healthy movement between the two. This way we can stay culturally relevant--yet stay on-track with God--the way Paul and the apostles did.

If you were to look at the mold of a plastic cup, would you see a cup? No. However, if you first saw the cup and then saw the mold of the cup, you would recognize the mold as the absence of "cup." Likewise, now that we see the universe through the person of Christ, we don't have to become embittered by others' sinfulness. Instead, we are free to recognize sin simply as an absence of something--something in the exact shape of "Truth."

Therefore, when a non-Christian at work curses God, we don't have to alienate ourselves from them. Instead, we can "find pasture" in the fact that we now have a chance to explain who God is to them. If we see that a bumper sticker on the car in front of us is pro-choice, we don't have to hate "baby killers." Instead, we can "find pasture" in the fact that they are--probably in an effort to respect women--replacing the sin of chauvinism with the sin of murder and need discernment. When we hear about terrorists bombing cities in the name of a false god, we don't have to rally against the Muslims across the street. Instead, we can "find pasture" in reading their holy books and asking the Holy Spirit how to talk to our neighbors.

Some other helpful references I just studied regarding this:

1 Thessalonians 5:21
Test everything. Hold on to the good.

(Paul advises that when we hear people preach about God, we aren't supposed to buy it just because they are a pastor or whatever. Instead, we should ask the Holy Spirit to show us what is good. But not everything a "false teacher" says is wrong. We just need to know what parts are good and what parts are bad. That wisdom can ONLY come from the Spirit.)

Acts 17:11 (New International Version)¹¹Now the Bereans were of more noble character than the Thessalonians, for they received the message with great eagerness and examined the Scriptures every day to see if what Paul said was true.

(The Bereans themselves were into this whole "testing everything" thing. They even tested Paul. That's awesome, b/c Paul was just a man. Who cares if he is a leader or something; he's human: Test him.)

Holy Days

I'm listening to a series by Tom Bradford in a podcast called "Torah Class" on the book of Ruth. Anyways, he pointed out in a side note that Jewish holidays like "Hanukkah" and "Purim" and Christian holidays like "Christmas" and "Easter"--while certainly begun with pure intentions--are man-made, not God-ordained, holidays.

That's true. Isn't that weird? Like...God has given us feasts and stuff to celebrate, but...I know at least the majority of Christians don't even know what they are. I'm not sure I do, actually.

While this doesn't make celebrating them a sin, it does elicit two thoughts:

(1) Treating our current well-known holidays as holy is probably not such a great thing to do.

(2) What happened to the holidays that God ordained?

Any thoughts?

Don't Pray to People

I just realized the other day: We are commanded in the Bible to have faith in God.

We are never commanded to have faith in people.

While this may seem elementary . . . it must be a hard concept to grasp because everyone suffers from it every day. I know I do . . . or I just now realized that I do it. Let me explain.

I've been praying to people for entirely too long.

A few years ago, I had a friend. He was a best friend. I could tell him anything and he would listen to everything. He could tell me anything and I would listen to him. And we talked about everything. It was amazing. I've never had a relationship like that ever before or ever since. It was one of those things that you dream about, and then there it is, and you can't believe that this person actually exists. Then stuff happened that I'm still unsure about. We started fighting and I don't even know why. We'd fought before but we always ended up resolving everything. That was the beauty of this relationship: No matter how mean either of us got, the other one would finally forgive, and we would make amends.

I don't even remember what that last fight was about. All I can remember is that I was sure we'd get through it, because we'd gotten through bigger fights before. Well, apparently I was wrong, and we've never been as close since then. I've tried asking him about it, and my asking always makes him mad for some reason, so I don't anymore. I really miss him though. Really. Especially when it comes to topics that I know only he would appreciate. Not everyone gets my sense of humor all the time, and . . . well, it bugs me a ton--even more now, because now this guy pretends he doesn't get my jokes half the time. We're still friends, but it's like friends who visit each other in jail. You have to choose your words or you set the alarms off.

So anyway, I've just tried to fill up my time with other activities. And don't get me wrong, I have great and wonderful friends who I love dearly . . . It's just weird not to have that uncanny otherworldly closeness with a person. It's so weird to have him at a distance mentally when we used to be almost completely connected. It's like if you lived in a mansion and then for no reason you have to go back to your studio apartment. I guess the feeling is betrayal, but I'm not sure if he or I am to blame. Probably me, because I'm the one who asks about what went wrong, and I am the one who gets denied.

I try not to dwell on this situation because obsession just turns into insanity, you know? Anyways, I bring all this up because of events of late.

Anyways, I've felt a similar--yet to a lesser degree--feeling with two other friends of mine. I've never felt like this since high school. Where people just take their friendship with you down a few notches for no discernible reason.

Then it hit me. The number one frustration that we have with each other is that we want to be able to pray to one another. I want to put faith in this guy because I want him to be available for me when he isn't anymore. I want my friends to treat me the way I want to be treated regardless of the fact that I'm sure I treat other people exactly this same way. I want to be loved in spite of myself.

Well, those desires of mine are physically impossible for a human to fix. That's because God is the only one who can do that stuff. Not that it's wrong to talk to people about stuff that bugs you, but . . . you know that feeling when you have a real issue (or at least it's real to you) and you can just see the glaze over the other person's eyes? For me, I hate wasting words. I talk only when I think I'm being heard, and when I find I'm not, I become livid. This is a problem for me because I hate to annoy people, but I really want people to listen to me whenever I speak.

So what should I do? I should speak to God. I'm not going to annoy Him, because He is Joy. He's going to want to listen to me, because His Word tells me constantly to talk to Him. He's not going to judge me based on my opinions, because He is Truth and free from opinion. And what is just awesome is that when I pray, He draws me closer to Him. At the end of prayer, I just feel like praising Him indefinitely. I guess that's really what "heaven on earth" means: The more I pray, the more I can't wait until I CAN praise Him indefinitely. I don't get that from human beings, nor should I.

I should pray to God and give human beings a break.

Organic Prayer

Have you ever heard this?

P raise
R epent
A sk
Y ield

Many people have told me that this is the formula that Christ gave us in the Lord's Prayer and is also similar to the format that David and other Psalms writers tended to follow. I've also heard that if you don't end your prayer with praise, then you haven't prayed. While I think guidelines can be nice, and while I think that there is a lot to be said for these observations . . . The more Scripture I read, and the more I mull it over, the more I have problems with them.

The idea that "most Psalms ending with praise must mean we have to praise God" is intrinsically self-serving. Why? Follow this train of thought and see if you've been here before: We forget to praise God or don't praise Him enough after we've told Him all our stuff; so then we feel like we did something wrong; and so we are just reinforcing what a dirty rotten sinner we really are; this leads to intense feelings of guilt which result in us having to pray all over again and repent of being the dirty rotten sinner that we are; and then we try to think of more praising things we can say so we can pacify Him; but then we have to ask for forgiveness from thinking that we had to pacify Him--because that means we think He is shallow--meanwhile, we are wondering if our prayers are being heard as much as Mr. Smith's over there; or else we are so sure that our prayers are being heard that we become happy in our success; but then we have to apologize for being prideful; and then we have to think of more praising words; and then we have to think of how we can yield to God today; and on and on it goes. Such a headache.

So let's get rid of all that crap. I believe that prayer is more like this: when we call out to God, He hears us, He changes us, and the Holy Spirit automatically causes praise to fall from our lips. Simple as that. We just naturally, organically end up yielding. That's why the Psalms are there in the first place, not to give us guidelines, but rather to observe how the Holy Spirit changed someone else's heart. It's like we can see this change right before our eyes and we can rejoice in the present for something God did in the past to a sinful individual just like us! Therefore, we organically desire the same thing! And of course those Psalms are necessary, because if those prayers weren't there, we wouldn't even know that prayer was possible, or--on a more immediate note--that it did any good!

We don't have to spend any time worrying about praying correctly, or praying the right words, because Romans tells us that the Holy Spirit does all that stuff. There is really no pressure. There is really no point in thinking, "What would God like to hear from me?" That is a man-made question. There is no point in trying to figure out the guidelines for prayer, because guidelines imply that we have some control in the actual direction.

Does that make sense? I've heard soooo many times when a pastor will look at a Psalm and go, "See? David knew the importance of praising his Creator!" I think that's totally backwards. Jeremiah tells us that the human soul is desparately wicked, and that it's only by God's grace through the Holy Spirit that anyone even realizes how awesome God is. David didn't realize the importance of praise. He simply called out to God, God changed his heart, and as a result David naturally turned into a beacon of praise.

When people "realize the importance of praise"...Let's be honest, doesn't that just really give them a reason to feel good about themselves? That addition of pride into prayer adds soooo much frustration into something that should really be all about God--plain and simple.

A Gruesome Necessity

I spent the past week counseling for a Christian camp put on by a high school in South Korea. The camp was specifically geared towards the spiritual growth of the campers which was evidenced by the three chapel services, 45 minutes of "God and I" time, hour of cabin discussion, and 15 minutes of cabin devotions a day.

One of the sermons the visiting pastor preached centered on the gruesome death of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. In fact, the descriptions of His suffering in this particular sermon left even the most obstinate of listeners squirming from sheer discomfort. To hear how skin, bone, and muscle were violently ripped apart; to listen to details of internal organ failure and the order in which they failed; to picture the complete and total agony of crucifixion from mental, spiritual, and physical perspectives seemed to push the entire congregation to near exhaustion.

Two things came to mind.

First of all, I thought about the non-Christian reaction to the movie The Passion of the Christ. The media was absolutely horrified at it. I remembered the interviews of Christians who had seen it. These Christians looked so ridiculously happy about something the rest of the world saw as gratuitous and extreme.

The second thing I thought of was a conversation that I'd had with a long-time teacher regarding methods of teaching. Something he told me stood out as I listened to the camp sermon, "If you want to keep high schoolers interested, focus on gore and grossness. For instance, " he had explained, "don't just tell the kids that Sir Walter Raleigh was a 'gentleman.' Instead, explain exactly what that meant--that gentlemen walked along the street on the outside of a lady because people, not having indoor plumbing at this time, threw out the day's excrement into the street. A gentleman's walking on the outside of a lady assured the lady's protection from filth should a carriage come rambling by." Okay. It's gross. But he was right, as I soon found out from incorporating this method into my teaching the next year.

What I find interesting about these two thoughts in relation to the Crucifixion is this: Christ's bloodshed was extremely gorey--even fringing on the point of the unbelievable. . .but only fringing. Never completely crossing the line. That's the thing. As incredible as it was, it is also quite credible at the same time. All the elements: nails, blood, thorns, thunderclouds, earthquakes, sins, Perfection, etc. All these elements are believable elements. God did not hurtle thunderbolts from a cloud in the sky. God didn't drive the Sun across the sky as a chariot. God didn't change into animal form and stalk His enemies. Rather, God paid for the sins of the world through very understandable and scientifically fathomable means, while at the same time dumbfounding the most brilliant of minds.

However, the credibility of His death, does not outweigh its gruesomeness. Naturally, questions arise. Is God a God who delights in tearing Himself apart so that He can somehow hold His suffering over us like a disgusting obligation? Does He somehow get off on churning our stomachs? Is Christianity just the invention of a completely sick mad-man with a fetish for the morbid?

Or is this story is so vastly sickening because our need for a Savior is so equally sickening? Is the void we made for ourselves between us and God in the Garden of Eden equal to the void Christ bridged with the cross? If Christ's death had been less violent than it was, would we feel so compelled by it? Are we nothing better than completely depraved high schoolers with attention spans so short that nothing less than a blood-battered Savior turns our heads? Are the two pains, our distance from God and Christ's blood on the cross, mathematically equal and opposite?

If you think back to all the literature you've ever read, you will probably only recall a small handful of stories that you remember in great detail. This is because those stories made an impact, an impression. God desires a relationship with us, yet He knows we forget insignificant details. God is not an insignificant detail, so He chooses to reveal Himself through a story that is not soon forgotten. You can forget Aesop's fables. You can forget the Noble Eightfold Path. You can even forget the Ten Commandments. The only way to forget the Crucifixion story is to ignore it. The true awfulness of this story does not lie in the agony that Christ endured. Rather it lies in a depravity so great of people so far gone that we can't get this story out of our heads without making a choice to ignore it. That is merely part of the gruesome and beautiful necessity of its design.

Wow . . . Read This Book, Seriously (or "Satan The Clever Idiot pt. 2")

So . . . I just started reading this book by my pastor in Ohio, Dennis McCallum. The title is Satan and His Kingdom. I don't want to give a summary, because I need to go to bed, but I just read a paragraph here in chapter five that totally cleared up a thought that always bothered me. (This book is SUPER good, by the way. If you can find it, read it! . . . And read the Bible references he points out. Super great.)

Anyways, I was always bothered by the fact that at the cross Jesus said, "My God, My God, Why have You forsaken Me!" I know that Jesus was quoting from Psalm 22 and that had always been explained to me, but . . . I couldn't for the life of me figure out why He would bother doing that. Everyone always said that Jesus said it to fulfill Scripture . . . Um . . . Is it just me, or does that seem like a weird thing to say after Jesus had just lived 30+ years spouting teachings about how great and loving God is? Just to fulfill Scripture He decides to tell God that He was unfaithful to Him? You know? I mean, Jesus did every single thing God every required of anybody . . . Thats a past-cruel way to repay His only begotten Son. Also, it seemed like Jesus was actually being the pansy victim of circumstance that the writers of Jesus Christ Superstar would have all of us believe. Anyways, the thought never sat well with me.

But Pastor McCallum explained...--Here. Lemme just retype the paragraph:

"Imagine Satan looking on when Jesus quoted Psalm 22:1 from the cross: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (NASB). Perhaps only at that moment did he realize that this psalm (which he would have known by heart) fully predicted the crucifixion. He may have suddenly realized, too late, that he had done exactly what Jesus wanted him to do. At the cross, Satan disproved his own accusations against God."

(That last italicized sentence has to do with a point Ps. Mc made earlier that Satan was always accusing God of being too holy for love. In other words, "Why would a loving God require imperfect people to be perfect, and then punish them for their disobedience?" But...there it was. The entire disproof of the lie in the Person hanging before him on the cross.)

I just love that! Jesus wasn't actually telling God that He'd forsaken Him at all! He was actually almost taunting Satan . . . in this moment of seeming to be at his complete wits end, and Satan thinks he has the upper hand, Jesus, as a picture of humility and suffering, beats Satan at his own game!

With that perspective, I reread Psalm 22 as though I were Satan bringing it to mind in that moment. It's like when you bet everything on three aces because you know your opponent has some low cards, but then they pull out a straight flush. You had part of the story, which made you arrogant, but the very part of the story you missed served as your own undoing. Imagine the sheer devastation to Satan as he watched Jesus, remembering this passage with phrases like, "the band of spoilers have hemmed Me in, piercers of My hands and My feet" and " They divide My garments among them and cast lots for My clothing" as these very actions had just happened.

Then imagine finally realizing this last verse of Psalm 22 for what it REALLY means: "They shall come, and shall declare His righteousness to a people that shall yet be born, that He has done this."

In those few words, Christ wasn't claiming God's unfaithfulness, He was, in fact, proclaiming straight to Satan's innermost being what a true idiot he really is. Jesus was always one for efficiency, after all. I mean, remember when Jesus said it and the crowd all thought He was calling out for Elijah? I think He said those words purely for Satan's benefit, and in the old language that Satan, and a select few scholars, would have actually known!

Brilliant!


1Co 2:6 But, we speak wisdom among those who are perfect; yet not the wisdom of this world, nor of the rulers of this world, that come to nothing.
1Co 2:7 But we speak the wisdom of God in a mystery, which God has hidden, predetermining it before the world for our glory;
1Co 2:8 which none of the rulers of this world knew (for if they had known, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory).