Some Snow . . . You Heart Gets a Little Colder When Its Gone

Tony Snow has died today. I am so sad. He was a really great man, and I truly missed his work.

It's weird to grieve for the death of a person I didn't really know, but I am truly sad about this. When Rush would have to be on vacation, Tony would stand in for him, and he was the one guest host that I never shut off. Most of the folks who fill in for Rush aren't even really close, but Tony was such an enjoyable conservative voice. It's really awful that he is gone.

Time to Resume

So I need to start this blog again.This kind of thinking is something I need to be doing constantly.

Luke 9:18 Now it happened that as he was praying alone, the disciples were with him.

As I look at this, I think of why I need to do this. I need to keep my spiritual walk going, so that I don't end up in the place where the disciples are here in this verse. Jesus is praying alone, and the disciples are with him? What's that about? Why does that verse not read "Now it happened that Jesus and his disciples were in prayer"?

But I cannot be too critical of them, because how often do I feel Christ draw me into prayer, but I will not go. I know He wants me to spend time with His Dad, but I've got other stuff going. I feel the nudge, but on I go, and I listen to the radio or I watch TV or I wash dishes or do laundry or call somebody, but not prayer.

I leave Jesus praying alone. I may be with Him, but I haven't learned to be drawn by Him into prayer yet.

I don't want to be in this state of heart. I want to be responsive to His calls to prayer.

Oh, God, deepen my limp. Wrestle with me more. I want to be overcome by you. I want to fall into prayer with you and be beside you. I do not want to sit in your presence, to cool or clueless to fall with you into prayer.

Deepen my heart God. Deepen my limp.

God Rends His Clothes

And Jesus uttered a loud cry and breathed his last. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom.
- Mark 15:37-38

In the ancient Hebrew world, the way to express the horror of grief, to reject blasphemy or treason, or to express repentance was for a person to tear his or her clothes. This wasn’t like Bruce Banner becoming the Incredible Hulk – the torn clothes would still be wearable. One would make a small rip in the cloth next to the throat. This would be a physical sign of what was in the person’s heart.

For instance, when Jesus was on trial, the high priest Caiaphas tore his robes in response to one of Jesus’ few answers to that kangaroo court:

Then the high priest tore his robes and said, “He has uttered blasphemy. What further witnesses do we need? You have now heard his blasphemy.

- Matthew 26:65

Of course, Caiaphas was the one committing blasphemy – if only he’d known. Had he known what he was about to do, if he’d believed and known what he was involved in, he surely would have torn his robes, but for very different reasons. He would have cried out for compassion and mercy from Jesus, and torn his robes in repentance.

But recently, I’ve been reading about the tabernacle and the temple, and we just looked at the curtain that separated the Holy Place from the Most Holy Place. According to Josephus, this thing was so thick and strong that teams of horses pulling in opposite directions could not tear it.

This is what tore when Jesus died. The curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom.

Theologically, what I’ve always thought about that was that it was God’s way of saying – “The way to me is open now.” With Jesus death accomplished, the separation of sinners from holiness is no longer a necessity. Forgiven sinners, purified radically of their sins, can enter directly into the presence of God.

But is that what it means?

Perhaps, but might it also be something more.

I cannot help but wonder if this is God expressing his grief about what has just happened. His boy is dead! If ever anyone needed to express grief, it’s the Father at that moment. If ever there were a blasphemy, it has just happened in the murder of the Son of God. If ever there were sorrow that needed expression in the heavenly courts, it was at the moment that the sun refused to give its light, when the angels wept and went about in sack cloth and ashes, when the stars shook with the stones of the earth. The Prince of Glory, the precious beloved Son, died.

So God tore his clothes.

The curtain of the temple stood as God's robes, and in His terrible sorrow and pain, He tore them to pieces.

When this occurred to me, I wished that I could hold Him and weep with that horrified, grieving Father.

Never before in my life have I wanted to comfort God – the idea is preposterous. He doesn’t need my comfort – I need His. Furthermore, I’m unworthy to even think of this, since by my sins, I have participated in His Son’s murder.

But thinking of His sorrow, I was moved. Maybe it’s because I have a son, and cannot imagine what He must have felt at that moment. I cannot imagine what it must be like to look upon the dead body of my boy. What must You have felt, oh my God?

Thinking of His grief and sorrow, the cross and the death of Jesus became more real to me. To think of Him mourned in heaven, the grief of heaven, the sorrow of the bereaved Father – it makes it all more terrible. It makes it all more profound and wonderful too.

For me, He did what made Him tear His clothes.

Oh, my God, I am so sorry. I am so grateful. I love you so much.

Dangerous Holiness

And the Lord said to Moses, “Go down and warn the people, lest they break through to the Lord to look and many of them perish. Also let the priests who come near to the Lord consecrate themselves, lest the Lord break out against them.” And Moses said to the Lord, “The people cannot come up to Mount Sinai, for you yourself warned us, saying, ‘Set limits around the mountain and consecrate it.’” And the Lord said to him, “Go down, and come up bringing Aaron with you. But do not let the priests and the people break through to come up to the Lord, lest he break out against them.” So Moses went down to the people and told them. Exodus 19:21-25 ESV

God is dangerous.

God is dangerous because God is holy, and to we polluted, weakened sinners, holiness is deadly.

God wants to be close to us, but we cannot bear Him. We are sinners, and He is not. His holiness is too much for us. His glory, the glorious weight of His holiness, is too much. Should we come into contact with Him with our sin still within us, we are too brittle. God's presence in us will crush us, kill us, obliterate us.

So He warns His people - don't get too close to me, lest I break out against you. He does not want to kill them. He does not want to see them die.

This little exchange between Moses and God is an interesting one. God gives Moses this warning for the people. When Moses hears the redundant warning, he responds as if saying, "Umm . . . yeah, you told us that." God reinforces the warning yet again, a warning that was already repetitive when he said it. Why go into this?

Of course, God doesn't tell us why he said this stuff, but I think it's because God knew that we want to see Him. We may not want to be holy ourselves, or willing to pay the price it would cost us to be holy, but we want to see. Holiness is attractive, because holiness is good. And God is fascinating – we are drawn to him.

But unless our sins and corruptions are dealt with, He is dangerous to us. Not so much because He cannot stand to be near our sin (although, no doubt, it is unpleasant for Him), but because we cannot bear his holiness.

I think this is why I so often meet God at my points of weakness. God wants to reinforce these broken parts so that I can become a person who is able to bear the weight of His glorious holiness. So as I come to Him, He comes to me at the very point at wish He would leave me alone, or at least ignore me. But He will not ignore my sins, and I think it’s because He does not want to break out against me. He wants to repair me so that He might not kill me.

So I will come to Him on His terms, though it means that He will come to confront my sins. I will let Him work His painful fixing on me. He wants to be near to me, and I want to be near to Him, so I will be open to His sanctifying work in me.

Because to do less is dangerous.

Holy Interruptions

. . . the house of the Lord, was filled with a cloud, so that the priests could not stand to minister because of the cloud, for the glory of the Lord filled the house of God. - 2 Chron. 5:13b-14, ESV

This little snippet from the Scriptures hit me today. I'm sure that Solomon and his folks had things all planned out, to make it the most impressive event they could make it. This is, after all, the dedication of the Temple of God - it doesn't happen every day. Everybody has stuff to do, and they are trying to do their best.

And in the middle of the music and the festivities, God comes wandering in to interrupt things. This cloud, so like the could that filled the tabernacle once to keep Moses out, comes drifting in to fill the place up, and now no one can get anything done. These poor guys have priestly duties that no doubt they are supposed to be doing, but not now. Now is God's time. He has interrupted things.

Sure, Solomon will move things forward - he has a long prayer, something like a State of the Union address delivered to both God and His people - but not now. In this moment, everything has to stop, because God has taken over the NOW. It is His, and He has shown up on the scene. There was no doing anything except be still in the presence of the glory of God.

And I find myself thinking - how often do I let God do that to me?

I've got stuff to get done every day, appointments to keep, classes to prepare, sermons to write, phone calls to make, yada yada yada - and sometimes I'll feel this pressure on me, like a whisper in my brain, ". . . pray . . ." And too often, I blow it off, and keep being busy.

. . . pray . . . I'm here . . . talk to me . . .

As I read this passage, I think about the holy cloud of his glory settling upon them. If my body is the temple of God, could these gentle prodding’s be something the same? Could he be trying to interrupt me with the wonder and glory of his presence? If so, how crazy am I to miss that? How insane must I be to keep the motion going when the cloud has come to stop everything? Why am I busy with the Christ is calling me to peace?

Oh, God, please interrupt me again. Help me to be still.

Jesus a Masochist?

I recently heard Jesus called a sick masochist. The person who said it hated Him, and said quote, "I wouldn't want to spend eternity with this sick masochist anyway." My though was, well I wouldn't worry about it, because unless He saves you from that brokenness, you wont. Though you probably won't like what you do get.

But I wondered about her words. Why would anyone think of Jesus that way?

And of course, she was talking about the cross. As if Jesus wanted the cross - as if he persued the cross. Which I suppose he did. As if the cross were some kind of expression of erotic love. Which obviously it is not.

An atheist can never understand the cross. How can they hope to understand that someone would love them enough to die this terrible death. How could they ever hope to understand it when I can't get my head around it and I love Him?

But the thing is, the charge won't stick if you know anything about Jesus at all. Certainly not if you know about the garden where he prayed before he died. Jesus wanted what the cross would accomplish, but he did not want the cross at all.

• • • •

Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to his disciples, “Sit here, while I go over there and pray.” And taking with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, he began to be sorrowful and troubled. Then he said to them, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death; remain here, and watch with me.” And going a little farther he fell on his face and prayed, saying, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.” And he came to the disciples and found them sleeping. And he said to Peter, “So, could you not watch with me one hour? Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” Again, for the second time, he went away and prayed, “My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done.” And again he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were heavy. So, leaving them again, he went away and prayed for the third time, saying the same words again. Then he came to the disciples and said to them, “Sleep and take your rest later on. See, the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us be going; see, my betrayer is at hand.”
--Mathew 26:37-46 ESV

• • • •
That's not a man running toward suffering because he will enjoy it. That's a man willing to suffer what must be suffered. Suffering and love are connected on the cross, but not in a sick way. There is love there beyond understanding. There is suffering there because we cause it.

It's amazing that someone would hate Jesus and mock him right at the point where his love is most profoundly expressed. But then there were unbelievers making fun of him at the foot of the cross as well.

I Want to Know Christ

. . . that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead. - Philippians 3:10-11 [ESV]

That I may know him, Paul says.

That is hard to hear. Especially the way that the NIV says it "I want to know Christ . . ." If Paul is going to say that, what hope have I got? I was not converted by a blazing white hot presence of God. I have never been caught up to the third heaven so that I could learn dirrectly from Christ. He's not talked to me and told me that there are people he owns in any given city. These are things that have not happened to me, but they are things that did happen to Paul, so if he feels like he needs to get to know him, what hope have I got?

But of course, what Paul means is not that he wants to know about Christ, but that he wants to know him through the experience of a growing spirituality. He wants to join Christ in a life of willingness to suffer and expectation that God will let him experience that. He wants to become like Jesus, not in his life or in his glory, but to have the kind of character about him that Jesus had while dying. In this is his hope for new life.

I can have that. I want to have that. I can have a spiritual life that is always growing, ever closer to Christ, daily more open to Him. By his power and help I can adopt a posture that cares less about what I want, less about my comfort and more about a willingness to give my life up - even to suffer pain and sorrow. I can grow to love as Jesus loved while dying - to pray for those who hurt me.

I want to know Christ.