Do this (part two)

Not long ago I wrote about the fact that when God instructs me to do certain things, it isn't really because he needs my help. Like my grandmother and mother, he likely has in mind to teach me, grow me through my doing of the task. I mentioned two tasks (intercessory prayer and the great commission) as examples.

Last Sunday I heard an excellent lesson on the Good Samaritan. About halfway through, I recognized a parallel principal -- God doesn't need us to take care of our neighbors; He can certainly bless them without our help -- but our God invites us to be neighborly so that we will learn to be more like Him.

He calls us to "love our neighbors as ourselves" so that we can be conformed to the image of Christ. He teaches me to care about others -- not just for their benefit, but for my benefit. My reshaping. My change of heart.

God isn't just being a taskmaster when he calls me to do things; he is coaching me, training me for my good.

I have long wondered at God's amazing ability to create what I call 360-degree blessing, working things together for good for everyone involved in something. Now I'm awed by his ability to create 360-degree benefits -- benefits to those I serve and benefits in me as I serve. Totally cool.

Understanding this helps me know the nature of God a bit better and changes my perspective on the things he has asked me to do.

I remember when I was in school how frustrated I felt when I could see no earthly reason to be learning a formula or fact. Once I understood how the learning could be used, my attitude about learning changed.

Similarly, God's commands have sometimes seemed abstract and unrelated to my life. When I see, however, that his commands have purpose -- how arrogant of me to think they didn't! -- my attitude about his instruction is changed. Obedience and trust grows when I remember that he is working for my good, my remolding (like that potter in Jeremiah).

Imitations

We are surrounded by varied models for institutions. We all know how to "do" a library, a gas station, a school, and so on. There are certain expected behaviors, certain patterns of interaction associated with each institution.

Church, on the other hand, is so fundamentally different from all other experiences. I wonder if it takes effort on our part to keep church different. I wonder if we sometimes slip into other more familiar earthly models -- accidentally, subliminally.

Church as a Bank -- the place where we keep our faith safe, stored away in a safety deposit box, where we can occasionally visit it, take it out, admire it, and then leave it inside the church walls where it will be uncorrupted by the world.

Church as a Convenience Store -- the place where we can zip in from time to time to replenish our supply of encouragement, fill up our tank of God's love so that we can function in the world for a few more days.

Church as a Theater -- a place to go for a good show, where we can see people who have their act together, who know God, leading a worship service, where spectators can draw near to a relationship that someone else has with God.

Church as a Country Club -- a place to meet good people, a safe place to enjoy social gatherings where they will accept and include anyone.

I'm not condemning anyone; I'm looking inward. I see these tendencies in myself, and I recognize that I need to discipline my thinking to keep my perspectives about church in line not with my daily earthly experiences and interactions, but in line with biblical descriptions.

Church is not just another institution vying for time on my calendar. I want to strip away my unconsciously formed definitions and thinking patterns to understand more clearly the wonder of the Body of Christ.

Do this

When I was a kid, my grandmother occasionally made taffy. When she did, she always made me help do the pulling. My grandmother was small, and I assumed that making taffy was just too hard for her to do alone.

When I was a little older, my mother agreed to make me a new dress. I was allowed to pick the fabric, and I got to search through the giant Simplicity book and choose a dress pattern. Back at the house, she made me cut out the many pieces of the tissue-paper pattern. I assumed that she didn't have time to do it.

At the time, I thought they were just making me help with their work. In hindsight, however, I now realize that they didn't really need my help at all. In fact, they could have finished much sooner without my "help."

Now I realize that there were two reasons for my assignments: (1) they were shaping my character, teaching me attitudes about work -- teaching me that any payoff usually requires a little elbow grease, that I was not entitled to something for nothing, and that participation in the work makes the finished product sweeter, and at the same time, (2) they were enjoying my company, enjoying the time spent together.

Recently the subject of prayer has bobbed up in classes, Bible studies, and newly published books. As I have reconsidered prayer, and particularly intercessory prayer, I've reflected that God really doesn't need me to tell him where the needs are. He certainly already knows the circumstances, and since He knows and loves the people I am praying for, He is not going to refuse to help them if I fail to word a prayer on their behalf. Why then am I called to intercessory prayer?

Consider a different matter: Jesus gave us what is sometimes called the "great commission," instructing us to go and make disciples. We know that God can reach people without our help. (See Romans) God can speak through a burning bush or a donkey. Conversion can happen on the Road to Damascus. Certainly, I am not an integral part of the operation.

Why am I called to these assignments? My God is capable of accomplishing his will without my help. (I wonder if, like my grandmother and mother, He could do it faster without me!) What is the purpose of instructing me to pray for others and go to others?

Perhaps God's purposes are also much like those of my grandmother and mother. Perhaps God plans good work in advance for me -- not because He can't do it without me -- but because he is teaching me, reshaping me, molding me to be different, to be more like his Son. In intercessory prayer, he is teaching me concern for those around me. He is taking my prayer spotlight off myself and putting on someone else. In taking my faith to others, I am taught selfless love for the souls of others. He is teaching me to imitate Jesus.

Yes, he can use my frail little efforts on behalf of others, but he can also use my frail little efforts to make me different. He gave me the task, and I assumed that the beneficiaries of my work were those others.

Lately, I've been more and more aware that changes are also happening in me. Flying back from Kazakhstan, I was struck by the fact that I was blessed by acting on the great commission. After praying intently for others, I was amazed to realize that my relationship with God had grown in the process. When I set out with the motive of blessing others and being obedient to God, I grew.
Oh, and then there is that second reason I mentioned when I spoke of my grandmother and mother. Can it be that God invites me to partner with Him because he enjoys relationship with me, enjoys time spent together, enjoys the shared task? If that is true, then carrying out the tasks he has given me changes radically -- from dutiful obedience -- to an act of joy and companionship.

I was slow catching onto what my grandmother and mother were doing. Looks like I am still slow catching on . . .

Hungry?

Because of the way our bodies are constructed, we need food every day. I've joked often that at our house, we are always planning the next meal, eating, or talking about what we just ate!

In scripture, however, food is a favorite metaphor for our relationship with God.

Moses explained to the Israelites, "He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your fathers had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord."

Isaiah heard God say, "Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare." Jeremiah said, "When your words came, I ate them; they were my joy and my heart's delight." (15:16)

Jesus taught, "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled."

In the gospel of John, we learn that after Jesus miraculously fed the five thousand, the people intended to "come and make him king by force." They searched for him and eventually followed him to Capernaaum, where they quizzed him about what miracles he would do next and mentioning the manna that came from heaven.

Jesus was not impressed by their obvious interest in more free food. He told them, "It is not Moses who has given you bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is he who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world." (32-33)

And then even more clearly: "I am the bread of life. Your forefathers ate the manna in the desert, yet they died. But here is the bread that comes down from heaven, which a man may eat and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. This bread is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world." (48-51)

This conversation finally led many to turn back and no longer follow him. They weren't looking for God, they were seeking a free lunch. I'm afraid I am often like that: so focused on daily human things that I fail to see God's better offer.

Over and over, God tries to tell us that physical sustenance is far surpassed by the spiritual sustenance we have by being in relationship with Him. Our bodies crave food, but in an even more important way, our spirits crave God and his Word.

We have learned to listen to our physical bodies on matters of health; we need to learn to listen to our spirits on matters of the soul. Deep calls to deep, as the psalmist says.

God will sustain us, feed us, breathe life into us if we will receive it. I need to develop my taste for spiritual food. I need to never miss an opportunity for a meal. I need to fill my soul with what will make me grow strong.

Lord, make me hungry for you!

Covenant God

My God is a covenant-making God.

He initiates this action because He cares for me.

He is not forced into a bargaining position. He is not negotiating with me to gain something -- because there is nothing I can offer. The covenant doesn't better his position or give him leverage.

When I think about God's covenants, none of my human understandings of deal-making apply. None of the game-playing or strategizing or maneuvering are involved when God establishes a covenant with me.

God extends an offer to me. He suggests that He will take a defined set of actions; he suggests that I should take certain actions. That sounds straight-forward, doesn't it?

But this is where it gets astounding...... God keeps his part of the covenant whether I hold up my end of the bargain or not! His good actions are not contingent on me doing what I'm supposed to do.

God is faithful to his promises regardless of my reliability.

My God is not only a covenant-making God, but also a covenant-keeping God.
Amazing.

Maintenance

When you exit the parkway and turn into my neighborhood, there is a pretty entrance that features a boulevard-type center area between the opposing lanes of traffic.

For many years, the spring's first wildflowers bloomed there. Each year the crop increased, and the flowers grew more numerous. One year the blooms were extraordinarily bountiful, and I enjoyed them so much that I remarked on them to several friends.

As development in our area continued and all the vacant places in the neighborhood were replaced by residences, the homeowners along that stretch of road banded together to take better care of the common areas along the road.

No longer were there unsightly weeds in the right-of-way. Trees were planted at prescribed intervals along the way. The neighborhood's entry way took on a manicured look. Very upscale.

I appreciated the orderliness of the new maintenance activities during the summer and fall, but when spring rolled around, I realized with a start that there were no wildflowers!

The well-intentioned regularly-scheduled maintenance had eliminated the spontaneous beauty of the spring flowers. What a trade-off! I mourned the loss of those unplanned, unregimented blossoms, and I was further saddened to think that most of my neighbors were unaware of what they were missing.

Then I wondered how often we do this sort of thing. How often to we humans bustle around, taking control, taking care of everything around us, busily making things "better" -- only to "maintain" ourselves out of a blessing God has in store.

I think about my daily approach to life. I have appointments, errands, responsibilities so tightly scheduled, that there is no room for spontaneity of any sort. I imagine that if a burning bush showed up in front of me, I would probably breeze right by it on my way to my next calendar item. I wonder if the Spirit's whispering is lost in the noise of cell phone conversations.

Surely there is a way to be responsible, be productive, be efficient -- but still leave room for God to be God . . . ?

Leaving room . . . I guess that's the idea of meditation, of quiet time, of prayerful listening.

Prayer and Time

Foundation thoughts: God created this world, with its oxygen and all kinds of food to sustain His creatures. He also created gravity for us. And He created time for us. He provided the safety of boundaries for me, and I understand the rules, the limitations of life on earth.

God exists outside of those things he made for my living environment. He's bigger than that. I am from the earliest moments a limited creature. For instance, I can't be in two places at the same time. God is outside those structures. He exists outside of time, for example, so he is not bound by the linear days/months/years that I know. God can see my entire lifespan in a single glance. I, of course, can only see it a day at a time.

Imagine this scenario: I pray for something on January 1. God answers immediately, granting my prayer and determining that the thing I've prayed for will take place November 25. I asked; He answered. It's a done deal. However, because of my limitations, I won't see His answer to my prayer for almost a year.

So here's the question: what does my mindset look like from January 1 until November 25 ?

#1 -- Do I get frustrated with God because I don't see an immediate response to my prayer? I confess that my 2008 American mindset is skewed toward immediate gratification in all areas of my life.

#2 -- Do I pray faithfully (like the widow petitioning the judge) for two weeks or six weeks or twelve weeks before I declare that the bible's teachings are a crock? After all, the Bible says that we have not because we ask not. The Bible says ask and we shall receive, knock and the door shall be opened. The Bible says pray and believe that God will answer. I often assume that the scripture implies a quick turnaround.

#3 -- Do I believe that God responds immediately, but the answer may not be visible to me until later? Practically speaking, how do we live faithfully for the eleven months until we see the hard evidence of God's faithfulness to us? This is a fundamental challenge to those of us who strive to live by faith, but are plagued by that little voice that whispers, 'you are an idiot to believe!'

On several very obvious occasions in my life I have prayed fervently to God, asking him to work his power in a situation. In one case the answer came five years later. In another case the problem was resolved seven months down the road.

In those instances, do I believe that God took no action, and things finally just worked themselves out? Do I believe that God just didn't get around to responding to my prayers until later? Or do I believe that God took action immediately on my behalf and that due to my own limitations in time, I didn't see God's work until it happened later in my life?

Perhaps this thinking sheds some light on the scripture, "Therefore, I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours." (Mark 11.24)

If I believe that God always answers my prayers immediately (whether I see the answers today or years later), that changes the way I approach him, that changes the way I deal with my circumstances during the gap from January 1 until November 25.

I can KNOW that God has heard and answered my prayer. I can know that I will see God's answers bye and bye; I can "wait on the Lord." It is a lifestyle that is characterized by faith that God is powerful, keeps His promises, and works all things together for my good.