The Light of His Face

"Blessed are the people who know the festal shout, who walk O LORD, in the light of your face." - Psalm 89:15

The constant buzz, whir and images of our culture keep me distracted.  It's not hard to do, because I'm looking for distraction.  But it keeps me from enjoying the one truest thing: the knowledge of God.

In the passage above it speaks of how "blessed are the people who know the festal shout, who walk in the light of the LORD's face."  I am one of those blessed people, and how often I forget it.

This morning, as I was attempting to meditate and then scribble down some thoughts from God or from me (jury still out on that one), I was encouraged to be vigorous in my studies, as the end of my studies are and should be to know God better and to walk in the light of his face.

I find the whole image of God's face shining on me extremely comforting.  Recently, Melissa and I have been cracking down on our little 3-year-old David.  Sometimes my face has been stern in disapproval, other-times silly in playfulness and at others just glowing in love and pride.  David has the privilege of living in the light of my face, at least when I'm being attentive.

My guess is as we've been ratcheting up discipline in response to his ramped-up defiance, that sometimes he wishes that we wouldn't have our faces turned on him.  I have a friend who has MS and struggles profoundly with this precise question.  The face of God is always upon him, and like Job, his sentiment is sometimes that God would just leave him alone.

But God has given my friend courage.  He shows great courage, that while he sometimes feels that he's under God's thumb and wiggling to get out, he knows deep down that there is no better place to be.

I'm hesitant to say it (as it might sound trite) but suffering in the light of God's face brings blessing.  It is this hope that gives me hope on days when I don't want to live.  It is this hope, hope in the furious love of God, that enables me not to just totally pack it in when suffering hits.  And above all it's a hope that is grounded in relational realities far deeper than can be unpacked with words.  It is the hope of the Father yearning for his child's growth.

As I looked at David this morning, face all sweaty, splotchy and snotty, moaning and thrashing at me in fury, I think I caught a glimpse of how our heavenly father sees us even in these moments.  It is in precisely these moments that God sees us with great pride and with great love.  Why does God keep his face on us?  You tell me.  It's a mystery.  But one that I am glad for.

Toxic Gnostic Christian Victory

"Your wrath lays heavy upon me, and you overwhelm me with all your waves...  You have caused my beloved an my friend to shun me; my companions have become darkness."  - Psalm 88:7,18

Where do you take your pain?  "Heman the Ezrahite," in Psalm 88, took his pain directly to God.  And he was satisfied to leave it there.

I was talking with a friend of mine about all the "victorious Christian living" and gnostic dualism floating around, and how people use it to manipulate, hide and deceive themselves and others.  He mentioned that there was a Psalm out there that addressed this, by ending not in a victorious stance, but in a somewhat angry and seemingly defeated way.

As luck/providence would have it, I opened my bible to it today!  It's the Psalm I quoted above by Heman.  I believe he would be very puzzled by our need these days to claim that everything is good, God is good, and we are living victoriously above our sin or at least trying to.  He knew that sin and pain are things that must be taken to God and left in his hands, and this means waiting.

Hmm.  Maybe that's why there is so much victory language in our culture.  We hate waiting.

And to address what I mean by "gnostic dualism" - it's the claim that the spiritual world is good and the physical world is bad wed to an idea that we can conquer this physical world by claiming spiritual promises.  The spiritual and physical worlds are in tension.  Thus anything that ails the Christian can be explained spiritually and healed by spiritual means.

I've learned a lot about "gnostic dualism" by a prolific blogger at thechristianmonist.com.  I recommend him highly.  He's one who has suffered a lot of abuse at the hands of "gnostic dualists" and is well equipped to deal with the false spirituality that has run rampant in American evangelicalism.

So back to Heman, he's still scratching his head at our spiritual culture.  How could we reconcile this philosophy of gnostic dualism with biblical spirituality?  Obviously we can't.  And it's going to take digging into God's word constantly to root this dangerous philosophy out.  So there's another plug for rigorously studying our bibles.

On a closing note I'd like to learn to be satisfied with leaving my pain with God.  It is so comforting to know that I can express it thoroughly, and then simply leave it in his hands while I hurt and wait.  For the Christian life is about living in realities, not living in denial, even spiritual denial.

I think that Heman the Ezrahite would "high five" me on that one.  "Thanks for including your problems in my bible Heman and simply leaving them there."

"No problem."  

Hummmmm

I've been trying to meditate recently.  Actually I've been "trying" to meditate for about the past year and a half.  But it's easier said than done.

I don't think of myself as a busy person.  In fact, I kind of view myself as a highly motivated slug.  I've got great ideas and intentions, but my energy lets me down.

This is why I'm excited that I've actually stopped sluggishly, and taken the time to meditate for the past three mornings.  What I do is simple, I take a passage of scripture, memorize it and go through it in my head.

Having done this for about a year and a half, I have four passages from the Psalms I can rehearse.  This is pretty impressive for me, as holding on to memory verses seems extremely difficult, like juggling wet noodles for example, just less satisfying, unless you go two times round with the noodles - that can be pretty satisfying.

I'm finding that meditating changes the character of my day.  A daily reminder of my Creator and his words is immensely satisfying.  Who would have thunk it?

Another practice I've taken up, which is extremely border-line for a good Presbyterian boy like me, is writing down what I think God is saying to me each day.  So my new commentary on Revelation is coming...  Just kidding.

When I picture meditation, I always think of hindus or hippies with body-piercings and paint or tie-dye swaying back and forth whilst repeating a mantra, with eyes rolled back, all set in a candle lit and incense filled room  (with crystals tinkling, you can't forget the crystals).

This mental picture kind of made me a little hesitant when I began, but I was greatly helped when a friend of mine said that meditating is sort of like brushing your teeth every-morning, it's a necessity, and not a performance.

I don't really know why I'm sharing all this with you this morning, save to say that it's a practice that seems to go in and out of style for a host of reasons, and I think Christians need to take another look at it.

For one thing, it enables me to allow God's word to move from my head on down to my heart.  My daughter's quote "I've have a verse hidden in my heart" and David's thought "I've hidden the word of the LORD in my heart, that I might not sin against thee" apply here.   And for another, I think that in a culture  where I am constantly bombarded with messages, I need to begin to allow God to bombard me with his.  Otherwise the great "transformation of my mind" may never occur.  Scary thought.

Plus in meditation, I'm reminded that I'm a human being with a soul.  I remember that I am both physical and spiritual.  And my very physical repetition of God's truth impacts me both physically and spiritually.  It brings peace, slows my heart rate (sometimes) and brings cheer.  I am cheered by the fact that I am loved and have a purpose and this cheer effects me both physiologically and spiritually.

So as my reader/fan/can't-believe-Philip-is-so-profound base, I look forward to occasionally sharing with you the very infallible words of God that he shares with me.  Then I can begin my new cult and you can drink the Kool-Aid with me.

Zion - I Was Born There

"The LORD records as he registers the peoples, 'This one was born there.'"  Psalm 87:6

I was born in Zion, the city of God.  As a believer this is my new homeland.  At least it is according to Psalm 87.  It's funny because last I checked I was born in Chattanooga, TN at some hospital I've forgotten the name of.  But in the mystery of knowing God comes this: those who follow him are given a new home and a new birth-place.

Last week, my wife, Melissa, put a pot of chili on the stove, set the temperature to high and left the house for three hours.  We came back to a flaming pot of chili and a very smoky house!  Coughing and sputtering we held our breath and ran to windows, flinging them open in an attempt to breathe.  We didn't eat chili.

It's been about a week and our house still smells like a chain-smoker lived there, though it's getting better by the day.  Apparently Melissa had set the stove to high just to get it warmed up, planning on setting it to low before she left.  Needless to say she felt pretty "stoopid," but she must have simply forgot, and our house got smoky.

This morning I feel like I'm still stumbling through those smoky rooms.  I've been riding the emotional tilter-whirl again and frankly, I must have had way to much cotton candy, cause I'm feeling sort of sick.

One day I'm up, the next day I'm down.  And on days like today, where I'm somewhere in the middle, I feel hunted (I'm also craving coffee as my source of life.  Though it just makes the emotional swinging more vigorous, I sometimes opt for it anyway, because I'm a man in love.)

That's why the "habit of devotion" (The Valley of Vision) is so important for me.  I need to be reminded, every day, of who I am, who I belong to and, since my earthly home's probably going to burn down anyway, where I was born.  I was born in the city of God.

When God looks at me, he records, "This one was born there."  Cool.

Two Things

"Although my memory's fading, I remember two things very clearly.  I'm a great sinner and Christ is a great Savior."  - character playing John Newton in the movie "Amazing Grace"

I looked across at my friend, who with tears welling up in his eyes, was summarizing for me what he thinks theology is all about.  "Two things," he said, "that I am a horrible sinner, and that Christ is a gracious savior."

Little did I know the depths that my friend and I were going to plumb this afternoon as I stumbled into the office (I stumbled because I'd been watching the kids all morning and was hoping to gather my wits at the office).  I had no idea about the relational feast I was about to enjoy.  For in a short period of time my friend and I got to talk about everything that truly matters.

Everything that our hearts burn to know (at least in the moment) we looked at and discussed with eagerness.  So much so that at the end of our conversation I thought, "This friend is oxygen to me, I need him in my life."

He's farther down the road in his theological understanding and depth than I am, and he has me constantly wondering, "Have I heard of that thinker or that heresy?"  But even though he's farther down the road, he's not pretentious, he's kind.

That's what I'm looking for, for someone who thinks deeply about the matters of God, and who's conclusions have made him kind.

I have many of these types in my life.  Heck, my whole family is this way!  They are oxygen for me when I can't catch my breath.   When I am surrounded by doers and people running, I need these guys who flag me down in the race, take me into a tent, and hook me up with some water and oxygen.  I need to be stopped and told to sit, rest and listen.

We all need this.  We all need people in our lives who will not only challenge our actions, but challenge our thinking behind our actions - our theology.  For it all comes back to what we think about God.  What we think about God absolutely does determine our actions.

So I thirst for God and for a deeper understanding of his ways.  To the degree that God wakes me to the reality that he is my teacher and I am the pupil, I will live with what I most need.  This is the only way forward when you're put in a position of influence in ministry, as I have been (though right now it's humble and undefined), and I'd say it's the only way forward in everyday life.

My friend reminded me that I've been trained by my culture to think to truth.  God's way is different for his word is truth.  I want to find again healthy respect of who I'm dealing with even as I type about the things of God.

I can't reason my way to deeper faith.  I can't study my way to richer understanding.  But if I reason and study as God graces me, and do so with grate vigor in my freedom, I will find Wisdom.  I will find grace.  I will find Christ.

Why?  Because God delights in giving good gifts to his children.

"I remember two things..."  

 

Silly-Walking with God

"Teach me your way, O LORD, that I may walk in your truth; unite my heart to fear your name." - Psalm 86:11

My walk with God resembles one of Monty Python's "silly-walks."  Heels flipping up to my ears with knees bent in and elbows swinging vigorously, I walk with God in a fashion that betrays my lack of a "united heart."

One second I'm excited about the prospect of obeying God and walking in his way, and then I'm not even into the next second before I find myself in a ditch somewhere with a toe in my nose wondering what happened.  My silly-walk took over.

So I was relieved this morning to find again in God's word that we are supposed to ask God to teach us his way so that we can walk in his truth.  And to go a step further, we are to ask for a united heart to fear God's name.

I was also just reading J.I. Packers, Knowing God, and growing more worried by the fact that I often don't fear God.  A lot of the time my actions betray that I don't give a too-whit (is that even a potential word?) about what God thinks.  The problem I faced as I read was that I was reading on God's WRATH.  I don't need coffee on mornings when I read about God's wrath.

But this brings me back to asking God.  It's pretty cool.  As I'm strutting around like a turkey-buzzard, trying to read my bible and be a good Christian, God beckons me to ask him to teach me his way.  Who would have thought that the Christian walk would be so uncomplicated as to simply rely on God and ask him for help?  It sounds pretty straightforward.

I've been a believer long enough though, to know that the Christian walk, while being straightforward, is still extremely difficult, due to the great gulf that lies in my heart.  I want to ask, but I don't want to listen.  Or I think I want to listen, but then "inexplicably" I don't ask.  I know that God will lead me, but I'd rather not be lead.  So around and around I go, doing the chicken strut backwards.

Is there any hope?  Not really.  I can't do this whole Christian thing on my own.  I am utterly dependent on the mercy of God and his work in me through his Spirit.  Jesus has got to not only cover me, plead my case before the father, and then teach me to fear, but he's going to have to teach me how to walk.  And after seeing my latest version of the gorilla-crab-hop-jingle-shuffle, he may want to pack it in...

That "Dang" Perfect Jump

"Whoever works his land will have plenty of bread, but he who follows worthless pursuits will have plenty of poverty."  - Proverbs 28:19

The words of this Proverb haunt me whenever I find myself obsessing over my go-to hobby - biking.  It's not exactly a "worthless pursuit," but it can certainly become more about me pursuing self-gratification than about enjoying God.

I wonder why I've been wrestling for so long with taking this particular hobby too far (you're probably sick of me writing about it).  Just this morning I was out there again, attempting the perfect jump and cursing in frustration when I didn't get it.  Poverty was creeping into an activity meant for joy.

If you struggle with obsessive tendencies, as I do, this Proverb probably haunts you as well.  Why do we attempt something over and over until we get it just right, until we feel ok, until that empty and anxious feeling is gone?  I don't know exactly.

My guess is (I heard this somewhere) that we all obsess, even if we haven't been clinically diagnosed with OCD, because of fear.  There could be a host of other reasons.  But for me it's definitely fear.  Fear that God just isn't enough for my day.  Fear that I must achieve satisfaction myself.  Fear that if I turn and rest, my daily life satisfaction won't be given to me from God.

Maybe God has me wrestle with over-doing my hobby just so I will crave the gospel each day.  So that I would see the tension and difficulty of surrender and trust each day.  Perhaps it's not because he wants me to be haunted, just reminded, that he offers more.  And he wants to give me a physical and pictorial opportunity for surrender.

I was listening to a friend describing worship and liturgy to me and he kept using the phrase "And then there's so much more."  I believe that if I turn and "work my land," or work the gospel, I will be forever murmuring "Wow, there is so much more!"

What's at the heart of God's promises will always be "so much more."  For he offers us himself.  We look to creation and man.  But God leads his children into futility, with kindly discipline, so that we will feel the poverty and recognize our need for him.    

It doesn't mean it's fun dag-nab it.

Note on picture: Yes that's a self-portrait, of me enjoying my tiny bike :).