I've been reading through the book of Psalms of late.
So much has poured over my soul in the first few Psalms, but one motif that runs through them all, that has struck me most powerfully, is the freedom God gives. As I read and reflect, it is an uncontainable truth, and almost too much for me to bear. You have to remember, although we claim we want freedom, it's a bit like Olaf wanting the summer and the sun: we don't know what we are talking about! But in and through the Psalms (and the whole message of the Bible), God reports to us about true freedom, and offers it to us by his spirit. Jesus said to the people, and to us, 'My words are spirit and they are life.' (John 6:63) Jesus also cautioned the pedantic Nicodemus that to know the truth is like being caught up by the wind (John 8:3), that it would blow us, and through us, in an untraceable way. Jesus also cautioned - but thrilled us - with the promise that to know him, to 'believe in him', would tap a source of 'living water' that would not only flow over us, but 'from within us.' (John 7:37-38) Jesus said that to know him was, in essence, 'eternal life'. (John 17:3) He said to believe in him was to defy death now and forevermore. (John 11:25- 26) So against this backdrop of Christ, and his life that embodied the Word of God (John 1:14), reading through the Psalms I see this powerful, spirit word and truth, as paradoxical as the Trinity. Jesus cried out on the cross, asking God to defend him (Psalm 31:5b), and as his spirit trickled away, in a picture of death, we see that God did ultimately defend him (Psalm 31:8), and with him, us. 'Jesus said, 'I am the door. He who enters through me will be saved.' (John 10:9)
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Have you ever not believed something or someone or both, and been wrong in your unbelief? Has anyone not believed you, and been wrong?
What if God was actually separate to you - how would you come to know him? You don't believe in God (or don't know)... well, what if you could create a God for the world; what would you want him to fix? Would you be angry at this God for all the pain in the world? Would you blame him? If so, how does your blame/anger usually play out towards someone? What if this God of yours made an appearance to you, would you love or hate him? Would you attribute creation to this God? If not, why not? Does he not have power for this? If your God is 'good', then how do you explain evil? Is it a creation of man's mind? What does this say about man's mind, and where does this thinking come from? If evil does exist, but is not man's and is not God's, whose is it? And what is it in man that subscribes to it? What would your God say about past wrongs? Does he/she/it/you have a story to address the past, to right wrongs? Or will wrongs done forever define you and others? If your God was actually separate to you - how would you come to know him? 'God in his wisdom, made it so that man in his wisdom, would not find God.' (1 Corinthians 1:20) One of the hardest things for me in my faith here and now, is actually receiving God's gift of peace.
Jesus stands and holds it out to me. I see it as clear as day. I see it clearer than day. It is more true to me than the winds of hell around it. Peter saw Christ on the water and walked to him. As he neared him, his doubt increased. When he was in arm's reach of him, his doubt overcame him, literally 'sank' him. (Matt 14:22-33) Proximity to Christ can be darker, not clearer. Winds of truth howl as we near him, and some of these winds - most of these winds - are the ones that blew through us in the beginning of time; the ones that blew us to reject God's word, his paradise, and walk out the door of Eden into death itself. (Gen 3:5-6) We knew the truth, and walked against it, eyes wide open. Why do you think when you 'near' Christ, or see him face to face, that you will receive him? I was ready, it is true. A smile crept over my face in the dark because I already knew the outcome of this. In fact, I had known it all along, for years, since infancy. But the fortress I had been given, I had dismantled, destroyed, and when I came to my senses I had to sit in the wind and the cold - where walls once had been, and I knew walls would be again.
Because I had come back into the ruins, and taken a stand where my inheritance once stood and would stand again, the winds blew hard. For years. But over time I did see walls emerge. It was more to do with my sight than with the walls. The gravestones of regret were crystal clear, I could discern these physically. But 'the blood that speaks a better word', the one that spills slowly and stains permanently and drips from a hand cut up with my initials, this covering I had to hold fast in my spirit, my soul, by faith, to be seen one day. I was not deterred. Every fight to displace me, I fought hard. I was told day in and day out that I had no right to be here, no proof of purchase. I shook my head. My own heart spoke against me. I was mocked as completely irrelevant, slightly mad, slightly evil. I stood my ground. Like any force of darkness that is not yielded to, it cannot help but show its face, and so face its own destruction. First he tries to push you from the light, then he eventually attacks the light, and this is like kindling attacking fire. When dark turns to touch light, darkness is gone. 'The prince of this world stands defeated.' (John 16:11) (Matthew 4:1-11; 2 Timothy 3:15; Proverbs 18:10; Matthew 5:13; Revelation 21:5; Matthew 14:22-33; Hebrews 11:6; Matthew 6:23; Heb 12:24; 1 John 3:20; John 10:20; Isaiah 49:16; 1 Timothy 6:12; Philippians 3:12-14; Psalm 73:25-26; James 4:7-8; Rev 12:10-11) We can see, touch, believe and declare, and yet still not feel. Ever experienced this?
For example, that blue-sky, sunny day, but the blue in you is different? All the facts stack to support a light-hearted and hopeful spirit, but a heaviness weighs down, or even fear, or terror or despair. A couple Scriptures come to me on this topic. One is about the man who brought his son to Jesus to heal him. He obviously believed Jesus could, or he would not have come. Correct? His actions were a statement of faith. But when he came to Jesus, he said, 'If you can do anything… help us.' Jesus challenged him in this, and said, ‘If you can?’ All things are possible to those who believe.’ (Mark 9:23) In this, Jesus put the spotlight back on the man, in front of the people, and wanted to know what his beliefs were about this person (Christ), this power to heal, this faith. The man blurted out his truest feelings, which were so validating of what Jesus was touching on here: 'I do believe! Help me in my unbelief!' (Mark 9:24) Jesus healed his son. David, the king and the worshiper, writes in Psalm 86:1,4, 'I am poor and needy... Give your servant joy.' I love this humility, and validation of my own struggles at times. I need God to give me joy, even in good circumstances. That sun can be shinning, and facts and figures healthy, and yet I still need the 'floor', the power, the voice of God that 'breaks cedars', that 'twists oaks' (Ps 29), to speak true joy into my soul. We were never made to seek out purpose in this life.
This is a critical truth to hold in one's vision. It is not a necessary evil, exactly, but a result of evil. It is a mountain we now have to climb, because we fell off a mountain we were never meant to fall off. Take a minute here to think about the story of Adam and Eve in this light. They were made with a pure and holy capacity of mind and body to match and enjoy a paradise environment. It was a perfect fit. No guilt, no mortality, no sense of loss or insecurity or sense of pressing urgency to have lived before they die. Purpose of life was in the fabric, the blood, the spirit of life itself, and God moved in relationship with them. (Genesis 1-3:8) It is beyond 'interesting' to me that a pursuit of 'knowledge' was the portal of destruction. Not just any 'knowing', but knowledge with a purpose of trespassing on God's domain, to 'become like god', against God's express command. (Gen 3:5) The Fall from paradise was through this door of mutiny, turning our created state against the Creator himself, and so severing our lifeline. So now, as ‘gods’ of this world, we seek for purpose. 'Jesus said, 'I am the door. He who enters through me will be saved...' (John 10:9) |
AuthorPeter Walker. I hope you enjoy these reflections. Please feel free to comment!:) Archives
February 2024
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