I don't know about you, but I feel like I'm stuck in some kind of bad dream, filled with anger and confusion, fear and intolerance. Clear thinking has been replaced by rigid, polarized, reactionary thinking. For that reason, I am finding new significance in one of the many promises found only in the Bible.
I like how the old KJV puts it: "For God has not given us a spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind" (2 Timothy 1:7).
God has given us many wonderful things, but fear is not one of them. Paul even refer to "a spirit of fear." Fear is at the root of so many of our dysfunctions: anger, insecurity, anxiety, depression, hostility, discord. We are afraid of so many things. We are afraid of losing control. We are afraid of rejection and separation. We are afraid of being disrespected and devalued. We are afraid of being left out and looked over.
It's possible to move beyond fear to a spirit of fear. We can find ourselves living in an atmosphere of fear, a culture of fear, a place where people are trying to manipulate and control us by playing on our fear. May I suggest that the result is toxic and leads only to death.
A study was recently released showing that for the first time in our history, the death rate among middle-aged White people is going up. In fact, the death rate among middle-aged Whites is now higher than any other people group in our society. And this is only an American phenomenon, not being experienced anywhere else in the world. Economists refer to it as "Midlife Deaths of Despair." The death rate is going up because of drug and alcohol abuse and suicide. Death is the final result of a spirit of fear.
Paul uses a special word for "fear" in this verse (Greek deilia), meaning a state or mindset of fearfulness or timidity. It is a state of continual anxiety, of low-grade depression, a negative if not catastrophic view of life, resulting in a hesitation to take any positive steps into the future.
A spirit of fear is best offset by the gifts God has given us:
1. Power (Greek dunamis), God's own dynamic energy, God's ability given to accomplish God's will. A prominent element in fear is a feeling of powerlessness, but for us humans, powerlessness is a feeling of being out of control. The fallacy is that we are not and cannot be in control. God's power is released when we have given up control. God's supernatural ability and our supernatural potential can only be blocked when we try to gain or maintain control. We need God's power.
2. Love (Greek agape). God's love is self-giving while our natural, human love is self-serving. Our attempts to love tend to be about ego-gratification and self-indulgence. God's pure, holy love always pours out to the other in service, empowering those it touches. Fear causes us to hesitate to love unless we know that our love is going to be returned in a way that makes us feel important. Self-serving love is a dead-end road. We need God's love.
3. A Sound Mind (Greek sophronismos). It is a "saved" mind, a healthy mind, a focused, liberated mind. It is a disciplined, purposeful mind. It is not a "double mind" filled with doubt and confusion. It is not a chaotic, uncontrolled mind. It is the very opposite of a fearful mind. It is not just a matter of intelligence or education. It is not just a matter of being well informed or being guided by "worldly wisdom." We need the mind of Christ.
This beautiful and timely promise in Paul is tell us that God has come to deliver us from "a spirit of fear" and to replace it with God's own spirit of power/love/discipline. Only in this way can we see our way forward into God's preferred future for our lives.
I think there is a connection between verse 7 and verse 6: "I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you...." God has given us God's spirit of power/love/discipline so we can be effective stewards of the gifts (Greek charisma) God has placed in our lives. They are the means by which we will bear the good and abundant fruit God has intended for us. But I also believe that the best way to be released from a spirit of fear and to move in a spirit of power/love/discipline is to "stir up" those gifts, to exercise those gifts, to intentionally use the gifts God has given us in our lives and service of others. When we are functioning in ways that reflect God's gifts to us, we experience the reality of God's power, love and soundness of mind. When we are living for ourselves to serve ourselves, we find ourselves trapped in an unending cycle of fear.
It reminds me of another passage in Paul: "The mind governed by the flesh is death, but the mind governed by the Spirit is life and peace" (Romans 8:6). Life and peace. That's what the world needs. That's what we need. It's time to turn from a spirit of fear and stir up the gifts God has given to us.
Jesus must have been a model teacher (Rabbi) in his day because he was known for asking questions. In fact, it was not uncommon for him to answer a question with a question. When we read the accounts in the Gospels it seems like Jesus should have known the answer without even asking the question. It seemed obvious.
When Jesus encountered a demon possessed boy having a seizure, he asked the father, "How long has he been like this?" (Mark 9:21). Really?! We need to take time for a health history? Yet, somehow Jesus was aiming his question at the man's faith, or rather his unbelief.
When a blind man named Bartimaeus interrupted Jesus' visit to his village, and he finally got his attention, Jesus responded to him with a question: "What do you want me to do for you?" (Mark 10:51). I would have thought the man's need would have been obviously. But for some reason, Jesus needed him to verbalize his need, somehow connected to the issue of his faith.
Perhaps the most interesting example is the case of the crippled man at the pool of Bethesda. When Jesus saw him lying by the pool "among a great number of disabled people," hoping to roll in when the water stirred, he asked the man, "Do you want to get well?" (John 5:6). He had been "an invalid" for 38 years, coming day after day, ostensibly to receive a miraculous healing. Why would he be making such an effort if he didn't want to get well?
The man responded to Jesus' question by reporting, "I have no one to help me into the pool.... While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me." What did Jesus see in the thinking of this man that required a challenge? Why would he not want to get well?
His seeming lack of faith did not keep Jesus from healing him. However, when he got into trouble for carrying his mat on the Sabbath, "he told the Jewish leaders that it was Jesus who had made him well." His focus was not primarily on the miracle of his healing, and his focus was not on the miracle worker. He just didn't want to get into trouble with the authorities. He didn't want his changed circumstances to change his sense of who he was and his place in the world.
So, why would someone not want to get well? It seems that it is possible to not only have a disability - a sickness, a weakness, a limitation - but to allow that disability to become a definition. It is possible to allow a weakness to define us, to become a core element of our identity.
I once knew someone who was legally blind from birth. That certainly resulted in significant limitations and a unique perspective on life. But for this individual, his blindness became a core element of his identity, and along with that, a reason to think and respond as a victim. "Be nice to me; I'm blind. Give me special privileges; I'm blind. Let me get away with it; I'm blind." And he was stuck at that point, without the ability to move beyond his victimhood.
On the other hand, when my wife Lynda was diagnosed with congestive heart failure at the beginning of 1998, we soon realized that her lifestyle was going to have to change. Needing more rest meant she could no longer be a hard-charging career girl. She would need to allow the Lord to show her the positive potential of the rest of her life. However, she never adopted CHF as a part of her identity. She never referred to "my weak heart." She never viewed herself as an unfortunate victim. Instead, she allowed the Lord to develop and mature a powerful ministry of intercession, maintaining a positive, cheerful approach to her life in Christ.
I think the PC people have it right. A person who has some kind of special limitation is not "a disabled person" but rather is "a person with a disability." Their limitation does not define them as a person. It is not the meaning of their life. For Christ-followers, our identity, the meaning and potential significance of our lives is defined by our life in Christ. We are clear and realistic about our limitations - and everyone has limitations - but we also understanding that our limitations are not limitations to God. As we serve the Lord and reach the outer edge of our abilities, gifts and talents, that's when God's supernatural ability can stretch the boundaries of our potential fruitfulness. That's when the glory of God can be revealed in and through out lives, because of our personal limitations.
One of the best examples I know is my friend and pastor, Dr. Lamar Hardwick. Lamar is a very bright, creative leader and a powerful communicator. But he spent his youth, and even his young adulthood, struggling with his own sense of weakness and limitation. He just thought he was weird or defective, but the more he tried to ignore his limitations and the more he tried to act as if he was "normal," the more he slipped in despair. Finally, at the age of 36, he sought help and was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome Disorder.
But, instead of his diagnosis resulting in Lamar shrinking back into the shadows, concluding that he was never going to be able to accept the calling God had placed on his life, he began to see the redemptive potential in his limitation. He saw the ability to respond in a way that allowed him to not be defined by his disability, to not be limited by his limitation. After all, you don't know how to overcome (come over, rise above) unless you know what it is you need to overcome.
As a result of that new understanding, Lamar was able to accept the call to be the Lead Pastor of a great congregation, with new insight on how best to succeed and bear all the fruit God had in mind for him. He has learned how to let the glory of God be revealed in his life. And he has been able to counsel, advocate, and publish from the standpoint of his new found sense of confidence. I love a recent article he published entitled, "A Better Question: Learning to Live Beyond the Label." Beyond the label, indeed. Every person's life and potential is ultimately defined by God's grace - nothing more and nothing less!
I must confess to being a bit of a perfectionist. It's not so much that I expect to be perfect or to do everything perfectly, nor do I expect that of anyone else. It's more a matter of being a hyper-responsible firstborn son in a large, very religious family. In fact, I'm so hyper-responsible I can't tolerate a job not being done due to neglect or laziness. If I see someone else "dropping the ball," I find myself diving onto the floor to catch the ball. It's a blessing and a curse.
But I am very sensitive to exhortations to perfection. For that reason, the last verse in Matthew 5 has always produced a floor-diving response. "Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect." It's bad enough that I am commanded to be perfect. The bar is raised to an infinitely high level when I'm commanded to be perfect on a God-level, as my Father in heaven is perfect.
It's so obviously impossible, most Bible readers either say, "I have not idea what that means," or "maybe when I get to heaven, or they just quickly read on to chapter 6.
I've heard any number of attempts to get around the language of this verse. Most point out that the word for "perfect" is teleios, meaning whole, complete or mature. While "mature" seems an easier reach than "perfect," we're still left with the command to be mature in the same way as as the Father in heaven is mature.
But then I discovered that there is a parallel passage in Luke's Gospel. As if often true, a parallel passage in the Bible can shed additional light on the context and meaning of that passage. In Luke 6, we hear Jesus once again saying to "love your enemies" with specific examples of what that might look like. We are clearly in the same context as Matthew 5, but in Luke, Jesus summarizes his teaching with a different expression. "Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful" (verse 36). Instead of "perfect," in Luke Jesus commanded his listeners to be "merciful." In Luke's Gospel, being perfect, being complete, whole and mature, means to show the same kind of mercy that our Father shows.
It's not about the deeds of our lives adding up. It's not about how responsible and hard-working we can be. In the end, perfection is a relational quality.
I find it interesting that the word used for "merciful" in Luke 6 is not the usual word used in the New Testament. This word for "merciful" is a word filled with emotion. It refers to a "heart of compassion," to "to be moved with compassion or pity." Not everyone even thinks about God in those terms, so it's more difficult to realize that, from Jesus' perspective, that kind of compassion-capacity is perfection.
Our personal and spiritual maturity is tested and becomes evident in the context of our relationships with others, and even (if not especially) with our "enemies." What a challenge!
Perfection is nothing other than perfect love.
I have no illusions that I can naturally mature in this area. My hope is based on the understanding that the person and presence of the Holy Spirit resides in me, is intimately connected to my human spirit, as a result of my faith in and acceptance of the salvation only Jesus can offer. And I understand that "God's love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us" (Romans 5:5). Only our daily life in the Spirit can produce the perfect fruit of love. Our response is to listen, to yield to the faithful work of God's Spirit in our lives. "Come, Holy Spirit. You are welcome in my life today."
"Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return."
I gathered with a small, rural Episcopal church to share in the beginning of the Lenten season. "Lent" literally means "spring," so rightly understood, Lent is not a kind of winter experience but rather a preparation for spring. New life is coming. Resurrection is coming!
We gathered in silence. The lectionary readings were followed by a congregational reading of Psalm 51. It was a conscious turning our faces away from sin and self and toward the Lord.
And then the Imposition of Ashes. These are the ashes left over from last year's Easter service, a mixture of burned palm branches mixed with olive oil. We all gathered at the altar rail as Father Jeff marked an X on our foreheads with the ashes. "Remember." Remember that our bodies are made out of the stuff of our planet. Remember that we are mortal. Remember that we were conceived in sin, so in many ways, our mortality is a gift of God's grace.
"To dust you shall return." It isn't possible to escape death. By definition, mortality is temporary. We are having a temporary bodily experience. Every day is a gift that requires God's mercy, God's grace, God's presence.
And so, we entered into this Lenten season, a season intended to prepare us for a new Spring, with a focus on our sin-limited temporariness and our desperate need for redemption and daily grace. We are motivated anew to return to the Lord with all of our hearts, to break up the fallow ground of our hearts, and to seek the Lord.
It's not hard for me to do this year. We have lost so many dear friends and loved one this last year. In fact, the older we get, our friends and family occupy heaven in greater numbers than those who are still here. It made me wonder about God's perspective of our death.
"Precious"
"Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his faithful servants" (Psalm 116:15). Why would the Lord consider our death to be precious? Doesn't God know what an agonizing loss it is to those other mortal human beings who were connected to the one who has now died? Obviously, so, and God promises comfort in those times. So why "precious"?
It seems as though our death will not come as a surprise to God. The Psalmist sang, "All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be" (Psalm 139:16). Even the day of our death is written in God's book. But somehow that particular day is looked at as "precious."
Could it be that God anticipates with joy the day when we will no longer be limited by our mortality? That the "lust" of our temporary flesh will be finished? That there will be no more barriers in our intimacy with God? No veil between us? Could it be that God loves us so much, that God is so passionately committed to a relationship with us, that the day that releases us to full uninterrupted fellowship with God would be considered precious?
If so, then during Lent, we turn in our limited mortality toward the Lord with a new desire to be near God, to live a life of loving obedience, doing our best to represent the Rule of God in our time and place. During Lent, we anticipate Easter morning and the reality of Resurrection accomplished by Christ on that day. But we also anticipate the day when the veil will be gone and nothing will hinder our heart-to-heart communion with our Creator-Father. Indeed, "to dust you shall return." But that is not the end!
