Thursday, February 10, 2011

The Experience vs the Expectation Pt. 2- Visionary Blindness

Jesus grew up as the son of a carpenter- sawing logs, planing wood, and generally doing all that woodsman stuff.  For 30 years he found himself picking sawdust from his skin at night as he lay down to sleep, shoulders aching from a hard day's work  For 30 years, he smelled the scent  of cedar and birch as they filled his nostrils, and felt his hands callous with each stroke of the saw and each strike of the chisel.  For 30 years, this was all he knew.  For many, this could appear to be all he was, but Jesus knew there was more.  In Luke 2:42 we have the beginnings of one of the more popular stories in Biblical history.  Jesus' mother and father have returned from Passover in Jerusalem, sans Jesus.  Presumably and understandably frantic and panicking, they return to Jerusalem only to find Jesus sitting with rulers and leaders of the synagogue talking about the Torah, impressing and amazing them all.  When asked why he had left them so worried, his response was both prescient and profound, “But why did you need to search? Didn’t you know that I must be in my Father’s house?”  Confused, I'd imagine that his parents shooed him home, upset that he had caused such a ruckus and made them come so far to find him.  If they were like other parents of special or gifted children, I would imagine that they kept Jesus sheltered, especially knowing that there was quite literally a price on his head (see Matthew 2:16).  For them, his disappearance had to set off all sort of alarm bells and leave them wondering if their son would be ok on his own.  I mean after all, he was the son of a carpenter, not a street savvy or scholarly boy- why would he be amongst the leaders of his day?  More importantly, how would they respond to him?  That's a digression from the main topic though.


Jesus was by all accounts a man of hard work and long hours, someone who was ostensibly destined to pick up the mantle of his father after Joseph's hand had become too old to continue.  In the midst of all this, Jesus knew there was more.  Yes, one could argue that, being the son of God he didn't give his destiny a second thought, but the prayers in the Garden of Gethsemane belie this wasn't wholly true.  Jesus was human, and as such, plagued by the same doubts as the rest of us.  He was tempted in every way, and still didn't sin (see Hebrews 4:15)- meaning that even doubt came knocking at his door.  Jesus was the son of a carpenter and he knew it, so how did he juxtapose what he knew about his background with what he also knew about his future and his destiny?  How did Jesus deal with the dynamic tension that existed between the experiences of his upbringing and the expectations of his calling?


In Matthew 3 we have the account of Jesus coming to his cousin John to be baptized.  An all too common practice at the time, it is unclear whether Jesus knew that something major was about to go down.  After hearing the chastisement his cousin doled out to the leaders of the day for their hypocritical ways, it is still unclear what Jesus' full intentions were on this day- even though this is the day everything changed for Jesus (and arguably for the rest of us).  Walking into the midst of the water, Jesus finds himself suddenly getting the greatest endorsement of all time.  The heavens part, birds swoop down and voices boom from on high.  Imagine for a moment you're one of the spectators of this whole deal.  "What?  God is well pleased?  Huh- this is His son?  I thought he was that Joseph guy's son...you know the one who does the stuff with the wood. "  


We have the benefit of looking back on the story knowing the entire thing.  We have a birds' eye view, but those who were in the midst of the story have no such benefit.  To them, all they see is the confusion of having a carpenter's son suddenly thrust into the limelight as the son of God.  But for how many of us is this also true?  How many of us have spent our lives toiling away at a vocation, gaining skill and ability that make us the go to person for this or that, all the while knowing there was something more?  How many of us have heard the words of others telling us that we are no more than where we are and what we've done, all the while believing there was something more to which we are called?  Further, how many of us have attempted to step into our calling only to have people look at you and say, "This is just the carpenter's (or baker's, or plumber's, or...) son- we know his mother (see Matthew 13:55)?  Most importantly, how many of us hear the scoffing, and see the disapproving looks in people's eyes and accept that what they say must be true, all the while feeling the burning passion for more deep within our chests?  You know that there is a destiny for you, you can see it, taste it and it fills up the entirety of your vision, but find yourself so focused on what people are saying that you fail to see what God is showing you.  You suddenly and inexplicably suffer from visionary blindness because the lies being told speak all too loudly in your ears.


I'll say again (and in closing because I know this post is forever long)- you are more that where you've been.  You are a destiny and a purpose that God set in motion before the world was ever formed.  You are called higher and farther than you can possibly imagine and, if for a moment your eyes could focus on the vision and shut out the cacophony of self doubt, you would find yourself stepping into a destiny that far surpasses you because, quite frankly, it was never about you in the first place.

Monday, January 03, 2011

The Experience vs the Expectation Pt. 1

Jeremiah 29 is an interesting chapter.  I'm sure we are all far too familiar with the whole "I know the plans..." part of the scripture in verse 11 and have probably either quoted or had it quoted to it to us in regards to our purpose, and the fact that God has a plan for all of us.  But, what about the rest of the chapter?  This morning, I kept thinking about what the KJV version calls "an expected end," and more specifically what that expectation was.  


I am reminded of a conversation I had with my cousin Din a few months ago in which he pointed out the context of this passage.  Jeremiah wrote this letter to the exiled children of Abraham while they were in exile.  In the midst of their captivity and in the face of what could be seen by some as God forsaking them, Jeremiah speaks on behalf of God and tells his countrymen that God has not only not forgotten them, but has actually used this as a part of His plan.  Seriously- are you kidding me?!  If I'm one of the Israelites reading this letter, I am prone to believe that it's a bunch of bull because the God who delivered Moses and their predecessors is the same God who called Abram out of nothing to become their forefather, is the same God who spoke to Jacob in a dream, but somehow wants me to believe that this whole exile thing is part of the "plan" He has for me?  That's difficult to swallow at best, absolutely ludicrous (as in Jeremiah is off his rocker) at worst.  But it gets better...


When you back up and read the entire chapter, and interesting concept comes into view.  As Jeremiah writes this to the captive Israelites, he tells them to do something that is utterly ridiculous.  He tells them to suck it up and deal.  In the face of their captivity, and with the knowledge that God is perfectly capable of delivering them, Jeremiah says to not hope for their deliverance, specifically he says “Build homes, and plan to stay. Plant gardens, and eat the food they produce.Marry and have children. Then find spouses for them so that you may have many grandchildren. Multiply! Do not dwindle away!"  Really Jeremiah- multiply (insert Bebe's Kids reference)?  Here's the problem with this whole thing- God SHOULD be setting his people free...right?  I mean, we sang that old spiritual about going way down in Egypt land and you're telling me to stay?  More than that, you're telling me to have GRANDKIDS?!  This is a problem because (if I were the Israelites) I want out.  I want to return to a land of milk and honey.  I want fatted calfs and to worship my God in the place that I see fit, how I see fit to do it.  But, instead, I'm being told to kick back and embrace my captive state.  I'm essentially told to like it.  So, the next question I find myself asking is why.


Jeremiah goes on to say in verse 7, "And work for the peace and prosperity of the city where I sent you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, for its welfare will determine your welfare."  As if it weren't bad enough that they had to live in exile, now God is asking them to pray that their captors prosper and live at peace with their enemies- the same enemies who could (ostensibly) set the captive Israelites free if a war were to break out.  This is part of God's plan?  I would find that difficult to believe, but there it is plain as day in Jeremiah's letter... crap.


Now comes the part we all know too well:


10 This is what the Lord says: “You will be in Babylon for seventy years. But then I will come and do for you all the good things I have promised, and I will bring you home again. 11 For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope. 12 In those days when you pray, I will listen. 13 If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me. 14 I will be found by you,” says the Lord. “I will end your captivity and restore your fortunes. I will gather you out of the nations where I sent you and will bring you home again to your own land.”


But notice something interesting, specifically the usage of the phrase "but then" in verse 10.  It implies that God will only do for the Israelites all that comes after once all that comes before has been done.  The usage of the conjunction (see here for more info) then denotes that the blessing spoken of in verse 11 can only happen if and when the captives are for their captors.  Peace and God's purpose for the Israelites can only be found when Peace and God's purpose for their enemies is sought.  So, this is what we're in for?  With all the experience we have with God delivering those that came before us, we're supposed to sit back and take on the chin the fact that God won't be delivering us right now?  We're supposed to accept that God will deliver, not our children, but our grandchildren, and that all of this captivity is for a reason?  This too is a problem.


It's a problem because, like so many of us, I have prayed to be delivered from situations.  I have earnestly sought the Lord, asking for His salvation from what I perceived as a "bad place" and believing that I had found myself in that place because of some enemy that God wanted to show Himself strong against.  But what if that's not entirely the case?  What if my being in the camp of my enemy is instead so that I can pray for their success?  What if my purpose amongst those that would take my life is not to pray for their ruin, but for their good- to pray for their salvation instead of their damnation?  What if God is "preparing a table in the presence of my enemies" (Psalm 23:5) not so I can show off and snub my nose, but rather so that I can show them the faithfulness of God that is available even to them, and in so doing expose them to His grace and love so that they can be changed.  What if my captivity is a part of Him showcasing His divinity?  What if the experience(s) I have in the place of my captivity is so that my expected end can be to show love to those that may not deserve it?  What if that love changes the(ir) world?


My natural response would be "well crap- I wanted them to suffer and be taught a lesson"  To that Jesus would reply, "I suffered enough, show grace."  Ouch.


I've got more thoughts on Experience vs Expectation coming tomorrow (or whenever I remember to post again).


Pursue.  Original.
-Damany