gloating

I confess, there were a few times during the Olympics when I was just as happy about someone losing as I was that my preferred athlete won. 

That's natural, isn't it? We like to see arrogant people taken down a notch or too. Sometimes we even like it when bad things happen to a rival. If the starting quarterback on the other team is injured, that's good news for us, right? If that golden-voiced soprano shows up at auditions with a cold, that just evens the odds a little bit.

But God's people shouldn't think like that, because God doesn't. He sent the prophet Obadiah with words of judgment against Edom, those descendants of Jacob's twin brother Esau. In Obadiah 1:12-13 God admonishes, "You should not gloat over your brother in the day of his misfortune, nor rejoice over the people of Judah in the day of their destruction, nor boast so much in the day of their trouble. You should not march through the gates of my people in the day of their disaster, nor gloat over them in their calamity in the day of their disaster, nor seize their wealth in the day of their disaster."

Of course, this is a judgment against a nation, so it would be easy to apply it to our relations with, say, Russia or Iran and move on. But God is completely constant in his character, so because there's little I can do about our official national positions I see here direction for life.

It's another example of how radical Christian obedience really is. Not gloat when Mr. Perfect embarrasses himself in a big meeting? Not gloat when Miley Cyrus gets flamed on social media for her outrageous behavior, or Lindsey Lohan ends up in jail? Not gloat when some piece of dirt surfaces that will hurt the opposing candidate? Not gloat when my insufferable co-worker's golden-child daughter gets a DUI?

On reflection, I find that while I may not be a world-champion gloater, I'm probably a very gifted amateur. My first reaction in a lot of situations is to feels satisfaction when someone else gets what I think they deserve. I find, for example, that I'm more interested in Colin Kaepernick than I've ever been before because I want to see if his actions bring consequences.

By God's grace, though, I don't stay in that mindset for very long. Usually my next feeling is shame at my smallness, and then often there's a quick word of prayer for that person as a way of forcing myself to think sympathetically.

I think that's what God wants. I think he knows that my human nature wants to gloat. I think he likes it that my better self overcomes that and goes to him with it. This is one of those things that I'm mostly getting right, but can still be better at.  Thanks be to God. 

no prophesies

There's a trend on social media lately to do a lot with a few words. Hashtags like #6wordlovestory challenge people to pack as much emotion or drama as they can into a small handful of syllables.

I thought of that this morning, when I read a tragedy in two verses. They were Amos 2:11-12 "'I also raised up prophets from among your children and Nazirites from among your youths. Is this not true, people of Israel?' declares the Lord. 'But you made the Nazirites drink wine and commanded the prophets not to prophesy.'"

Not even forty words. About 20 seconds is all I need to read it. And in that short span is the entire history of God repeatedly reaching out to his people, only to be spurned over and over again.

It seems to me that there are three elements of human nature captured in these verses. Our tendency to stray from God and cause him to chase after us is what started the whole mess in the first place.

Then, at the end, God notes that his prophets were commanded not to prophesy. That sounds a lot like, "I don't want to hear it," which is something I think a lot. When someone talks to me about my health, or gives me good advice about money, or tries to convince me to support a candidate, I react out of my own sense of rightness. I reject him (or her). I want him and his guilt-producing, change-requiring truths to just leave me alone. Even more so when a brother or sister tries to get me to see my own sin.

But perhaps worst, at least in my worldly point of view, is that horrible trait of ours that is reflected in the sin of making the Nazirites drink wine. The Nazirites vowed not to consume alcohol for as long as they served the Lord. Isn't it just typical that there are some people who wanted to corrupt them, to drag those holy ones down to their own pagan level?

I don't think I'd do that, but I confess some satisfaction when I find out that some elder or pastor or other spiritual role model has dabbled in a sin I struggle with. It makes it seem less bad, somehow.

I'm resolved after reading this tragedy in 39 words not to do that to God. He deserves my allegiance and obedience and love. May I never be the one who tells his voice, in whatever form it comes to me, to be quiet. Even more, may I never, ever be a voice of temptation to anyone trying to serve him.

discerning

Sometimes it takes me a long time to understand. Oh, I'm American, steeped daily in the culture of snark, so I often point out that others don't get it. But in truth, I sometimes get too bound up in my own sense of rightness to catch on.

This morning, I'm wondering if that's true about faith, and life, and a life of faith. In Hosea 14:9 I read, "Who is wise? Let them realize these things. Who is discerning? Let them understand. The ways of the Lord are right; the righteous walk in them, but the rebellious stumble in them."

The ways of the Lord are right, whether I realize it or not. The difference is, am I walking or stumbling through life?

The wise, discerning ones make their way more easily because for them the ways of the Lord are a broad, smooth, well-lit pathway with clearly marked stairs and turns. The ones who don't get it - me? - can stumble around because they don't see the steps, they miss the turns, they wander off the edge.

I like to think I'm wise and discerning, that I get it about obedience. But then I have to wonder about all the days that go so hard, when I stumble along and mess it up more than I get it right. If I'm so smart, how come I make life such a trial with my own willfulness?

As I think it through, this verse almost looks like it describes two separate steps. The first one, realizing that God's ways are right, comes from being wise. Maybe I can claim some small measure of wisdom, then, because I know good and well that God's way is the best way.

The second step is understanding. That comes from discernment. It's similar to realizing, but to me there's connotation of additional meaning. It implies that I will also see why. I'll make the links between obedience and blessing, between ignorance and unhappiness. Whereas realization will make me know I should follow God's ways, understanding should make me want to.

It feels to me like the second step is the one I struggle with. I have a discernment problem; even knowing the truth, I see this world as my home, and getting along in this world as my purpose and even my desire. Rather than seeing today through the lens of my eternity, I live today for today, or maybe tomorrow, or maybe I'm living for the weekend. 

I need a daily habit that makes me lift my eyes from the right now and right here of my life to the grand vista of the global reach and eternal reality of God's kingdom. Maybe prayer would be a good place to start.

promiscuous

I've used the word "unfaithful" to describe my relationship with God. I don't like it, but it's accurate so I face up to it. But to me there's a big difference between unfaithfulness and promiscuity.

God sent the prophet Hosea to challenge his people about their unfaithfulness, and he told him to use a pretty graphic example to make the point. Hosea 1: 2 says, "When the Lord began to speak through Hosea, the Lord said to him, 'Go, marry a promiscuous woman and have children with her, for like an adulterous wife this land is guilty of unfaithfulness to the Lord.'"

God accuses his people not just of unfaithfulness and adultery, but of promiscuity. Judah was not just having an affair, she was running around with any and every partner available to her. 

Is that me? Am I really a spiritual tramp, that person who's available for any fresh new sin that comes along? In addition to returning over and over to my favorite sins, do I also cast an appraising eye over new possibilities and chase the ones that appeal to me?

I like to lump it all under a single three-letter word, sin. In some ways it seems like just one thing that way. In fact, it's really easy if I just pray for forgiveness from my sins. 

But when I start trying to list my sins as I pray, I soon find that there are a bunch of different kinds. I realize, too, that I probably can't remember all of them, and that there are likely some things I do that I don't recognize as sin.

The truth is, I dabble with a variety of unfaithful behaviors. I'm not just having an affair with the world, I'm keeping a whole string of lovers on the line.

Thinking of sin this way makes me feel sordid. That's probably why God used Hosea's promiscuous wife as his example. It strips away my ability to look at my sin as somehow more just weakness that truly disgusting. 

It's hard to return to faithfulness when all your dalliances aren't even front lobe in your brain. I think I need to watch myself more closely for a while.

mercy

Our church has an awesome prayer chain. This week alone it generated an out-pouring of petitions on behalf of numerous people in need. Additionally, I get a number of additional requests every week from friends and family for prayers. 

It isn't logical, I know. But before you jump on me, the illogic isn't in thinking prayer will do any good. Prayer always works. But there's no reason on earth that God should listen. Think about it: someone disrespects you, takes your stuff without asking and breaks it, makes life choices he knows you hate, ignores you for days at a time, and then shows up with his hand out. Would you give him the time of day?

Thank God, for whatever illogical reason, that isn't how prayer works. No matter how unfaithful I've been, God hears me and responds. Daniel put it this way, in one of his prayers in Daniel  9:18-19: "We do not make requests of you because we are righteous, but because of your great mercy. Lord, listen! Lord, forgive!"

It's all about mercy, which has its roots in God's infallible, unending, never-changing love for me. Mercy means I don't get what I deserve. God doesn't treat me the way I treat him.

So I can, in my fear, run back to God's sheltering wings and he protects me. I can, in my need, turn back to my Heavenly Father and he gives me what will help me most. I can, in my sorrow or fear or anger or disgust or loneliness, vent and rail and purge my emotions, and God listens and comforts. I can talk out the foulest of my sins and He never, ever stops loving me. In his mercy, he has claimed me forever as one of his, my debts to him covered forever by the blood-price paid on the cross. So he's there at any time to listen and to help.

I guess, in the end, the most illogical thing of all is that, now that I've experienced so many times how wonderfully prayer does work, I don't do more of it. I still try it on my own first. There's no logic at all to that.

dominion

I've been called a control freak. I don't think I really am one - there are a lot of situations and circumstances where I'm pleased to seat back, let someone else drive, and enjoy the ride. But I confess, sometimes when something matters to me, I like to be in control.

It's human nature. That's why we fight so much about politics. It would be a catastrophe, after all, if someone who thinks differently than I do would exert so much control over the future of my country. It's why we fight about worship style. It's why we struggle to follow rules. We don't want to submit. And often, chaos ensues.

That's why, for me, Daniel's vision of the day we all lose control forever is reassuring. Read it in Daniel 7:13-14: “In my vision at night I looked, and there before me was one like a son of man, coming with the clouds of heaven. He approached the Ancient of Days and was led into his presence. He was given authority, glory and sovereign power; all nations and peoples of every language worshiped him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will not pass away, and his kingdom is one that will never be destroyed."

We don't like words like "dominion." We sure don't want to be under someone else's, not even a fellow American who happens to be from another party. But we also can't be trusted overmuch with freedom of choice - we prove that every day. Our inability to subordinate our immediate wants to for a better future for ourselves, much less the good of others, argues against us.

So the idea that Jesus rules, and will rule, and that someday everyone on earth is going to acknowledge this, is one of the most comforting thoughts I have. 

But that begs the question of why I continue to hold out. After all, Jesus rules now, doesn't he? Haven't I pledge him my allegiance? Just because he's being patient, just because he wants to give people more time to meet him and learn to trust him, just because he's holding off exerting his full authority because the harvest isn't complete, all of that doesn't mean he isn't in control.

So why can't I rid my brain of these old ideas that Jesus isn't taking care of business, so I have to? If Jesus really has this, why do I worry? Why do I think my salvation will be found in a law or a rule or freedom from rules? Why am I so sure the future of this country and this world depends on getting one election right?

I've had many a debate about a Christian's responsibility in this election. Isn't it the same as my responsibility every day? Isn't it to look to my Lord, listen to his instructions, and then follow them? Even if all he says is "Trust?" 

Christ shall have dominion. Today, I'm singing that old hymn again. I hope I never forget to.

profaned

I've never been a fan of shock anything, whether it's radio, theater or language. I know, people say it grabs attention and makes a point, but I think there's a lot of danger. Those words, ideas or images shock usually because they tread on treasured, or even holy, icons. Standing on the flag, photographing a cross in a beaker of urine, dropping the f-bomb several times in a sentence - these feel calculated to offend more than to make a point.

The danger is this: sometimes the one you offend has the power to do something about it. Just ask King Belshazzar. He was partying with a few close friends when a spooky hand wrote his death message on the wall.

Here's a little more context from Daniel 5:1-2 "King Belshazzar gave a great banquet for a thousand of his nobles and drank wine with them. While Belshazzar was drinking his wine, he gave orders to bring in the gold and silver goblets that Nebuchadnezzar his father had taken from the temple in Jerusalem, so that the king and his nobles, his wives and his concubines might drink from them."

Belshazzar thought it would be funny, maybe edgy, to use God's holy objects at his pagan party. He didn't know it, but he put on a horrifying anti-sacrament that offers a depraved parody of a sacred moment Jesus would share with his disciples in an upper room. God was not amused, and for this and other offenses, Belshazzar died.

There's a word we don't use much anymore: profane. We know it in the context of language, where it describes words that are offensive. But it really applies to any inappropriate use of what God made as good and holy.

For that reason, the story of Belshazzar scares me. Think of the horrible things I've thought with this amazing brain God urges me to renew as part of my transformation. Think of the sins I've committed with the hands and feet God means to be used in the service of Jesus. Think of the vile jokes and demeaning rumors I've spread with a mouth meant to sing His praises.

Too often, the word profane describes me, even though I want to think of myself as a holy man. A fair God would strike me down, but thank Jesus, when God looks at my profanity he sees a purity made possible only by the blood of the cross. Amazing grace! How dare I cheapen it by profaning God's good things?