Space Versus Privacy

When you pray, you open yourself to the influence of the Power which has revealed itself as Love.  The Power gives you freedom and independence.  Once touched by this Power, you are no longer swayed back and forth by the countless opinions, ideas and feelings which flow through you.  You have found a center for your life that gives you a creative distance so that everything you see, hear and feel can be tested against the source.  Christ is the man who in the most revealing way made clear that prayer means sharing in the power of God.  It enabled him to turn his world around, it gave him the attraction to draw countless men out of the chains of their existence, but it also stirred up aggression which brought him to his death.  Christ, who is called the Son of Man and the Son of God, has shown what it means to pray.  In him, God himself became visible for the fall and rise of many.  (Henri Nouwen, With Open Hands)

One of my favorite images for solitude is sitting in a wide open place.  I grew up near to a canyon and always loved to be near that wide open place.  Vacationing in the Northwest was beautiful, but I would find it hard to be so enclosed in trees since I am so used to the open.  My drive to work goes by a large caldera, an open meadow in the midst of mountain peaks.  I also have enjoyed the desert for its loneliness and openness.

In some of my prayer times, I settle down into an open inner space where I can hear God and leave distractions behind.  When Nouwen talks about a creative space, this is what comes to mind.  Solitude and silence are typical ways in which God can meet people.  I see them as space and openness.  Distractions and temptations crowd me, but God doesn't.  It seems to be in his nature to work in these spaces.

It takes space to make a person.  The space is not mere privacy, separation for other people so I can do what I want to, when I want to.  Privacy makes emptiness.  Most of the things I do in privacy are soul-destroying.  Instead of privacy, I need space, open and inviting.  I need to make room in my life to really be with people.  This takes time alone, but not privacy.

More importantly, such space invites God to speak and teaches me to hear him.  Privacy shuts God out with the clamor of my desires, distractions, and worries.  I need prayer that is open to God's influence, open to his touch.  Such prayer occurs where I make space for God.  It is interesting to me how quickly a "quiet time" can become a private thing in the worst sense instead of a creative distance where I can hear and be heard.  I stand apart and alone so I can learn to draw near without pretending, pushing, or presuming.

Some of the most acetic people in history, the Desert Fathers, understood the concept of space versus privacy.

A brother came to see a certain hermit and, as he was leaving, he said,"Forgive me, Abba, for preventing you from keeping your rule." The hermit replied, "My rule is to welcome you with hospitality and to send you away in peace." (Desert Fathers)

 Creating space does not make friends necessarily.  Not everyone will be happy with such an effort.  Space does create compassion, however.  It is a city on a hill.  It is what makes followers of Jesus into "stars in the universe."  I think that 5 minutes with someone who has real openness in their life is worth many hours with someone who has a crowded, driven life.  The sacrifice is worth it.

Creating space begins with understanding that God has space for me.  "The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in love."  (Psalm 103:8)  "Love is patient."  (1 Corinthians 13:4) When I begin to live in that space, that patient love, I begin to allow such space for other people as well.  I find room for myself when walk into the wide open space of God's love and power.  I find room for myself when I do not crowd other people.  How often do I draw near to other people to pretend I am something I am not, push them into what I think is best for them, or presume that they should see me a certain way?

Lord, I need space.  Deliver me from my tendency to try find space by taking it from other people.  Instead let me find the openness of your arms and the quiet of your gaze.  Let me live under your eye and in your heart, open to what you have for me today.  Amen.

God Values What I Don't

WHEAT AND CHAFF

At a conference I attended everyone was invited to share an item that expressed what God was doing and had done in their life.  One man from Kansas brought some ripened wheat stalks.  I was drawn to these and asked if I could have one to take with me through the days to ponder.  I asked him to show me the grain and the chaff on the wheat stalk.

Wind winnowing is an agricultural method developed by ancient cultures for separating grain from chaff. It is also used to remove weevils or other pests from stored grain. Threshing, the separation of grain or seeds from the husks and straw, is the step in the chaff-removal process that comes before winnowing. "Winnowing the chaff" is a common expression.

In its simplest form it involves throwing the mixture into the air so that the wind blows away the lighter chaff, while the heavier grains fall back down for recovery. Techniques included using a winnowing fan (a shaped basket shaken to raise the chaff) or using a tool (a winnowing fork or shovel) on a pile of harvested grain. (Wikipedia)

I remember taking the stalk of wheat with me for a while before God spoke to me.  He told me that much of what I consider wheat in my life, he calls chaff, and much of what I consider chaff in my life, he calls wheat.  There are weaknesses and trials that I still feel shame about that God considers precious.  I wish such things were not part of my past at all, but some of them are dear to God.  Why?  Did he want me to be weak or defeated?  No, he sees these as the places I drew near to him for hope and encouragement, places where I came to trust him deeply.  "He is like a tree planted by streams of water which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither.  Whatever he does prospers."  (Ps. 1:3)  Through these times I planted myself in and near to God.

SEPARATION FROM SUCCESS

I also saw that what I thought to be my best "assets" were things that God had much less interest in.  They were even things that he was trying to separate me from.  Why?  Was he afraid of my doing well or succeeding in something?  No, I believe that many of these abilities and gifts are from him.  I just have a drive to depend on these things to increase my value.  My best talents and abilities are chaff to my Father because he values me apart from them and wants me to see myself the same way.  Wickedness is based upon this drive to be valued apart from God's love for me.  "The wicked are like the chaff that the wind blows away."  (Ps. 1:4)  Grounding my value in my talents and abilities exposes me to continual efforts to raise myself above other people, so that I will be blown here and there by every wind that comes along.

John the Baptist said of Jesus, "His winnowing fork is in his hand."  (Matthew 3:12)  One of the primary works of the kingdom of God is this separation.  Such separation will inevitably lead to each person's eternal destiny - sheep from goats, good fish from bad fish, fruitful trees from unfruitful ones, etc.  This is a warning.  But it is not merely that.  It is also a plea.  Jesus came to separate people from their sins which are always bound up in a heart that values things incorrectly.  When my value lies in what I can accomplish or in how talented I am or in what people say about me, even if it is for the work of God, then I am on the fast track to destruction.

FRUITLESS OR FRUITFUL?

The grain or the fruit of my life lies in the dearness and nearness of God.  A fruitless life is not one in which I accomplish seemingly little, but one in which I grow increasingly sad and bitter against God and other people because they do not think of me as much as I think they should think of me.  Such a life yields only chaff.  It may seem big and quite satisfying because so much of my time is filled up with it, but in the end it is empty, "chasing after the wind" as Ecclesiastes says.  Chaff chases the wind because it has no real substance to ground it.  Such efforts are most quickly recognized because they wither in the sun of persecution and trouble.  Without real trust in God and deep love for him, such efforts will not build anything nor last long.  Lots of smoke, but little heat.

A fruitful life is one in which God accomplishes a lot through the little things I do.  One of the things that made Jesus so remarkable was that even the "big" things he did were small to him.  One time when I played racquetball with a remarkable player.  He was not built like a tank nor was he faster than a speeding bullet.  It was just that ever move he made counted and the smallest flick of his wrist could slam the ball slow low and fast that I could never reach it.  His mastery was not measured by his striving and effort, but by his ease incredible power.  So Jesus could be relaxed and loving and yet so controlled and powerful.

Because of my drive to try to make it without God which is enforced and encouraged generally in most human systems, "the stone that the builders rejected has become the capstone."  (Mark 12:10)  Jesus explains that much of my value system is directed wrongly.  What I consider worth building and working one, God has abandoned as worthless, like building a house or a city on a flood plain, "sinking sand."  The very thing that seems to weak and small to bear the stress of my life becomes, through God's mercy and grace, the very stone that can support my whole life.

I am directed to know Christ more fully through whatever I can and not worry about how much effect those things might have nor about how such things might make me more valuable.  I need merely to ground myself in how much God values me and the rest will work itself out.  My talents and abilities will become my servants and friends instead of my masters.  They will be used with a careless ease instead of a worried drive.  I will be able to find the joy of working in God's strength and gently laughing at my own.

Lord, I so enjoy writing and thinking about your thoughts as laid out in the Bible.  They are my delight and life to me.  Continue to separate the wheat and grain in my life through joy and laughter. Amen.

Leftover Love for My Family

LEFTOVER LOVE

Why does my family receive the leftovers of my love and attention?  Why am I so tempted to devote more of my love, respect, and attention to those outside my house?  These are questions that my family has been asking for a while.

First, the question applies to not only my teen-age kids, but to myself.  One of my first questions when dealing with problems in my kids is the question, "Where did that come from?"  I have to do some careful self-examination avoiding the pitfalls of self-pity and self-justification.  Am I teaching my children that our life as a family is secondary to my work, my friends, or my church positions?  Self-pity says, "I am a rotten father.  I'll never get this right."  Self-justification says, "I'm doing my best.  What more can be expected?"  Both avoid the questions, "What can be done?  What would the Lord have of me?"

As I examine my tendencies to spend time away from home, to hurry my family from on event to another, or to make my family picture-perfect, I find that my attention and my desire is focused on pleasing and impressing people outside my family and home.  Why?  I believe that home and family is only one step away from our own hearts.  My marriage and my kids reflect what sort of person I am far more than my job, my friends, and my church positions.  As with my own heart and private world, I find myself more concerned with my family looking good rather than being good.  As long as everyone else thinks my family is okay, we're okay.  Never mind that we can barely stand being around each other.

If I settle for appearances over reality, that's not good.  If I mistake appearances for reality, that's dangerous and destructive.  The reason real changes in my family are so difficult and time-consuming comes from several factors:

• I do not want to change myself, really.
• I do not know how to change myself.
• I really don't want my family to change much, just in a few ways that will make life easier for myself.
• I do not know how to go about changing my family.

Change and growth seem elusive at best.  Most of the time I want to be struck by lightning or bit by a radioactive spider for change instead of doing any training or effort.  I might wish my family was different, like I wish I was a concert pianist, but wishing only breeds trying and trying is merely an effort expected to fail.  Two things are needed to break out of this situation: encouragement and endurance.

CHANGE BEGINS WITH TRUE HOPE

Hope needs to be set on what is true, otherwise it yields disappointment or even despair.  Jesus was big on truth.  He was always saying, "I tell you the truth" because he knew we needed truth to live by, truth to hope in.  The truth about family is that it is a reflection of the Trinity.  Jesus final word on God is that he  is his Father and our Father.  God's will and desire is bent on redeeming family relationships because, at their best, they give a dim picture of the oneness found in the Trinity.  If I work on my family life, I am deeply involved in the work of God, shining out his image.

Jesus's commands also reflect this.  Part of the greatest commandment is to love our neighbors as ourselves.  Who is our neighbor?  Simply, one who is "nigh" or near.  It may be that one of the big problems of the priest and Levite in the parable of the Good Samaritan was that they were overly concerned with people who were not "nigh" to them.  They were is a hurry to get "there" rather than love the person who was near at them moment. Sometimes that person is a stranger we may not like very much.  More often the ones who are near to me are my wife and kids.

All this talk about Jesus's commands often breeds guilt in my heart because I am used to seeing them used as clubs to beat people rather than hope to lift people. I am as guilty as anyone else. On the contrary, "everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through the endurance taught in the Scriptures and the encouragement they provide we might have hope." (Romans 15:4) It is not Jesus who overburdens us with commands that we cannot keep, but ourselves. Loving family is not something I must or should do, but something that I get to do by God's grace. Jesus's commands are always pictures of what I can be like as I walk alongside him bearing the easy yoke.

So this is the encouragement. I am confident that God wants my family to be a center of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control. This is his will. He never intended that such a life would be done without him. Jesus does not command what he will not have done by God's grace. His commands provide the picture of a life immersed in the Holy Spirit, a life drawing upon God's kingdom resources, a life dead to dead-end desires. Love is the best word to describe such a life. Family is where such love resides most of the time.

Endurance comes from knowing that when I pick up the burdens in my life, God will be at the other end, doing most of the lifting. Endurance comes from knowing that God will not lift what I I do not lift. My main work of lifting is the work of trusting. My effort begins as I trust God to work in my life. As I understand God's desire to make my family a place where love, joy, and peace reign, I can align my work with his. He takes my small efforts and gives them powerful results I could not have anticipated.

FAMILY MEANS TOGETHER

So what does that all mean? For my family, we do a lot of things together. As a result we do less things in general, since we feel we need and want to do many of them together. One of the most important things we do together is devote ourselves to God. Without such time with him, we cannot go on very long. Such devotion is made up of Bible/devotional readings, sharing work and conversation, eating normal and special meals together, and praying for each other and with each other. God continually meets us as we expectantly come to meet him.

Where are you to begin? Begin where you are. Make that one corner, room, house, office as like Heaven as you can. Begin? Begin with the paper on the walls, make that beautiful; with the air, keep it fresh; with the very drains, make them sweet; with the furniture, see that it be honest. Abolish whatsoever worketh abomination--in food, in drink, in luxury, in books, in art; whatsoever maketh a lie--in conversation, in social intercourse, in correspondence, in domestic life. This done, you have arranged for a Heaven, but you have not got it. Heaven lies within, in kindness, in humbleness, in unselfishness, in faith, in love, in service. To get these in, get Christ in. Teach all in the house about Christ--what He did, and what He said, and how He lived, and how He died, and how He dwells in them, and how He makes all one. Teach it not as a doctrine, but as a discovery, as your own discovery. Live your own discovery. (The City Without a Church, Henry Drummond)

Such a life will transcend the walls of our homes and the intimacy of our families. As we find ourselves trustworthy and able to work with what is small and close, we will find ourselves asked to work more with what is more distant and "big," but, I suspect, never to the exclusion of what is close and small. From the Bible as well as my own life I know that what is "big" and "important" to people in general is never big and important to God. The biggest changes start in the smallest corners and with unlikely people at the heart of them.

Lord, you know my heart. You know how I long to impress other people and how I think that by impressing others I will find the approval I seek. It is not true. Teach me how godliness with contentment is a great gain for myself and my family. Let me know the truth in the words, "Follow me, and I will make you a fisher of people." Just like you, Jesus. Amen.

The Cost of Legalism

Recently, I heard someone ask at church, "What is legalism?"  Mostly, it is a slur thrown around at people who are harsh and overly religious.  As far as that definition goes, I need to ask myself, "Would Jesus be called a legalist if someone met him today?"  Maybe. . . .

Jesus carefully warns his disciples about the "yeast" or teaching of the Pharisees (Mark 8:15).  He describes this yeast that spreads so easily in Matthew 23:

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1. Right words, wrong actions (vv. 2-3)
2. Produces guilt with no freedom (v. 4)
3. Does good deeds for others to see (vv. 5-7)
4. Focuses on authority in position rather than in deed (vv. 8-12)
5. Minimizes God's influence and power in this life (vv. 13-14)
6. Makes converts to an idealism instead of disciples of Christ (v. 15)
7. Uses words to convince instead of clarify (vv. 16-22)
8. Does "good" deeds without good character (vv. 23-24)
9. Outwardly clean without inwardly filthy (vv. 25-26)
10. Outwardly beautiful but inwardly dead and decaying (vv. 27-28)
11. Justified by self instead of by God (vv.29-32)
12. Persecutes and destroys those sent by God (vv.33-36)

 Legalism is a malady of the heart.  It has followers from all walks of life.  It is not defined by a particular viewpoint, but more by a particular attitude, a way of doing things.  Spiritual formation or discipleship or social action that does not have the substance, the reality, the heart of goodness leads inevitably to legalism.  A legalist believes a person can do good without being good.

I am grateful for this teaching in Matthew 23.  Jesus was right to warn me about legalism.  It is a trap. Jesus gives me some words for avoiding this trap:

1. Do everything they tell you.  But do not do what they do, for they do not practice what they preach.  (v.3)
2. The greatest among you will be your servant.  (v. 11)
3. You have one Teacher, the Christ.  (v. 10)
4. First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean.  (v. 26)

I count the cost of legalism not only in what bad it does, but also in what good I miss.

1. I will miss being able to practice what I preach.
2. I will miss relieving people of their heavy burdens.
3. I will miss having God as my Master, Father, and Teacher.
4. I will miss being in God's kingdom, in his power and influence.
5. I will miss seeing others come to know Jesus and follow him.
6. I will miss speaking words that bring knowledge and truth.
7. I will miss having a just, merciful, and faithful character.
8. I will miss inward purity.
9. I will miss inward vitality.
10. I will miss being justified by God.
11. I will miss being a prophet, wise man, or teacher sent by God.

Other than the recognition gained from legalism, all it brings is hypocrisy and blindness.

I get all tied up inside when I worry about what everyone else is doing or what everyone else might be thinking about me.  I find that such thoughts carry the temptation of legalism.  Today, I am most moved by the thought that I have one Teacher, the Christ.  Through him I find that I have a Master and a Father as well.  There are many voices out there, but only one I have to attend to, really.

Master, Teacher, Father,  what good do I have apart from you?  Sometimes I fear what following you might cost me, but I see better what it will cost me to not follow you.  Let my surrender be based on counting the cost.  Let my examination bring me to your rule, your lessons, and your arms, loving Father.  Amen.

How the Kingdom of God Comes: With Waiting

Mark 1.1-1.8

Waiting patiently in expectation is the foundation of the spiritual life.  -Simone Weil

If we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.  (Romans 8:25)

For some of my kid's birthdays and Christmases we have had special presents or occasions planned.  The surprise that they felt was planned carefully by Dawn and myself for quite a while before the event happened.  When everything was ready, the surprise unfolded.  Foretold scripture makes me think of that planning for a surprise.  No doubt it says a lot about God's foreknowledge, but fulfilled scripture also shows what God has been planning for a long time and the meaning behind human history.  History is a story full of preparation for the coming of Jesus.

Such preparation was not left to the written word alone, but was fulfilled in the coming of John.  Fulfillment comes when the words come off the page and live and breath in the lives of people and the events of history.  The voice of one calling in the desert comes alive in John.  He immersed people in the waters of the Jordan as a preparation.  For what?  Immersion in the Holy Spirit.  John anticipated the one who would open the door to a new reality where people could be soaked and floating along in the currents of God's Holy Spirit through the words and work of the Messiah.  God just could not wait to bring us such a gift, a surprise that he had always planned on: being one with me.

Scriptural fulfillment is a big picture of what God wants to do with me everyday.  He has wonderful plans in store for me and each person.  He longs to bring them about in my life.  My part is to wait.  Wait with eagerness, with anticipation, with joy.  In the waiting there will be preparation.  In the preparation, personal change.  Those changes will lead to the power to live fully with him and abundantly in a new life.

Lord, it is a good thing you sent one more powerful than I to take me through this life.  With him the yoke of living becomes easy and light.  His presence reaches into the deepest places of my soul, out into the reality of this world, and up into the highest heaven which I cannot even imagine.  I am embraced, held, and carried along daily by your hand.  Fulfill your plans in me and through me, Father.  I hope in you.  Amen.

A Heart that Is Free

A heart that is free

is close companion

 of a peaceful soul.

speak4justice

A free heart is one

that is not attached to its own way

of doing things,

that does not become impatient

when things don't go its way.

A free heart

will surely enjoy spiritual consolations,

but is not dependent on them

and will, to the best of its ability,

accept troubles in their stead.

A free heart

is not so tied

to a schedule or a way of praying

that any change is upsetting

and a source of anxiety.

A free heart is not attached

to what is beyond its control.

A free heart prays to God

that his name be hallowed,

that his kingdom come,

that his will be done,

on earth as it is in heaven.

For if the name of God is hallowed,

if his kingdom is in us,

if his will is being done,

a free spirit need not concern itself

with anything else.

(From Set Your Heart Free: The Practical Spirituality of Frances de Sales, pp.95-97)

Repentance: It's Not All that Bad

Repentance is not an emotion.  It is not feeling sorry for your sins.  It is deciding that you have been wrong in supposing you could manage your own life and be you own god; it is deciding that you were wrong in thinking that you had, or could get, the strength, education, and training to make it on your own; it is deciding that you have been told a pack of lies about yourself, your neighbors, and your world.   And it is deciding that God is Jesus Christ is telling you the truth.  Repentance is a realization that what God wants from you and what you want from God are not going to be achieved by doing the same old things, thinking the same old thoughts.  Repentance is a decision to follow Jesus Christ and become his pilgrim in the path of peace.  (Eugene Peterson, A Long Obedience in the Same Direction, p.30)

The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field.  (Matthew 13:44)

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What if repentance didn't make you feel bad?  What if the emotional marks of repentance was love, joy, and peace?  When I think about it, I find that repentance usually ends up in relief and joy.  I can finally let go of something that I thought I needed because I find there is something else so much better and greater.

No, what makes me miserable is my resistance to repentance.  Approaching the corner I mean to turn, I find myself full of fear, worry, and even anger.  Part of me doesn't want to repent.  That's the part of me that causes all the pain.  Repentance is the relief, the sunrise.

So Jesus also explains some of the top "dreads" that keep me from repenting in another parable.

Listen then to what the parable of the sower means: When anyone hears the message about the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what was sown in their heart. This is the seed sown along the path.  The seed falling on rocky ground refers to someone who hears the word and at once receives it with joy.  But since they have no root, they last only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes because of the word, they quickly fall away.  The seed falling among the thorns refers to someone who hears the word, but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word, making it unfruitful.  But the seed falling on good soil refers to someone who hears the word and understands it. This is the one who produces a crop, yielding a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.  (Matthew 13:18-23)

Ignorance is the first.  What I don't know can hurt me.  Persecution is another problem.  Other people's resistance can become my resistance through fear.  Worry and greed can eventually outgrow even the best of news.

Repentance asks, seeks, and knocks.  Repentance must come from certainty and fearlessness.  Repentance must weed out worries and all sorts of lust and greed to last.  Such repentance doesn't yield a mere 10% in a year, but 30,000% to 100,000%.

Is Jesus exaggerating?  Is he just advertising the kingdom with the current marketing techniques?  The message is clear.  The influence and work of God in my life is more valuable than anything else.  It is worth giving it all away.  Repentance may seem foolish to those who cannot see the hidden treasure, but it makes perfect sense to the one who has found the treasure.

Lord, you are my treasure and my triumph.  Save me from all that would take me from you.  Let my decision be wise, fearless, and lasting.  Amen.

The Reality of the Cross

 May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world. (Galatians 6:14)

 The high point in human history - the cross! . . .  The single greatest force in human life [is] the cross.  And believing that totally flips everything upside down.  (Dallas Willard, Jesus and Culture, Divine Conspiracy talks)

The cross is not primarily a show of how bad people are, but how badly people need God.  Without God our efforts at good are always interrupted by necessity.  Peter felt it was necessary to deny Jesus even though he swore he would go to death with him.  Pilate felt it was necessary to turn Jesus over even though he could find no charges against him.  The Sanhedrin turned Jesus over to the Romans because it was necessary for one man to die rather than a nation.

The reality of the cross is that as a human being, when I try to do good on my own, I will inevitably find it necessary to overturn or betray that good for the sake of something "necessary."  The cross outlines the hope of all people.  When my life is turned over to God, the "necessities" become the very things I have to put to death.  Instead of crucifying what it good, true, and beautiful for the sake of these necessary desires and fears, I have to crucify these desires and fears.

"The wages of sin is death," says Paul.  Living apart from God, away from his grace, and on my own only results in a continuing death.  All that is good will be crucified because it threatens the "Almighty 'I will'".  This form of self-will must die if I am to live.

The high point of the cross is that it really changed everything.  The greatest discovery of humanity was made on the cross by the one who showed us everything a person should be, Jesus.  The cross is mine to boast in because it shatters all the lies that I am fed daily about this world and myself.  The cold, hard reality of the cross crowns the life Jesus lived in this world with the power to be humble, the joy to go through suffering, and the life to conquer death.  These are not mere ideas, but realities found in relationship with God.

The world is crucified to me through the cross.  All the glamour, the display of wealth and power, the fear and dread, the seemingly unending supply of pleasure and distraction turns out to be a lie.  The world is a worn-out shirt, ready to be retired.  The world is a defeated enemy, ready to be destroyed.  The world is uninteresting and bland, ready to be replaced and renewed.  The cross tears the mask off of the world of humanity working apart from God and for its own desires and shows it to be futile and empty, like a dying criminal on a tree.

I am crucified to the world through the cross.  I become an exile in this world rather than a resident.  I find myself "on the outside" in many situations.  Jesus said that the world will hate those who follow him as it hated him.  The systems and institutions set up without God or against him have no place for me.  Occasionally I am attacked or rejected, but mostly where I follow Jesus I am just ignored.

Lord, let the cross define my reality and my hope.  Let me be like Paul who boasts only in the cross of Christ.  Amen.

Renovare Essentials

Looking back over two years in the Renovare (reh-no-VAHR-eh) Spiritual Institute, I have changed my mind about several things in my walk with Jesus.  The new thoughts and ideas were only the beginning, but still an important beginning.  The best part of my learning was the discovery that these ideas are not new at all, but pillars of of thought and experience that reach back hundreds of years.  Renovare reintroduced me to these new/old ideas and showed me how they worked in real life.

The Renovare Essentials Conference overviews some of these ideas about Christian spiritual formation.  Dawn and I attended one of these conferences a couple of years ago.  We wanted to understand Renovare's goals and foundations better before investing ourselves into the Spiritual Institute as well as starting this education together as much as possible.  We drove to Phoenix to spend some time in learning, praying, and talking about all this calling from God.

The most pronounced theme of the Essentials conference was God's grace.  Dawn and I found this relieving.  Renovare has a lot of material about spiritual "disciplines" and we both are aware of the tendency to take these exercises and make them into competitions and divisions in churches, so grace was a great place to start.

What I needed to learn is that God's grace is not so much about fixing my past or securing my future as living in the present.  The forgiveness of my sins is essential, but it is not everything.  The open door  to heaven is my hope, but it is not all that there is.  God's grace is provision for my life, rather than for my death.  If God's grace is God acting in my life, it is not an "over-and-done" thing as much as the living hand of a living God.  The question in my life has moved from "How can I or anyone else get saved by grace?" to "How can I or anyone else live by God's grace from moment to moment?"

Dallas Willard says,"God's grace is opposed to earning, not opposed to effort."  This expresses another idea I learned at the Essentials Conference.  The proper response of my will to God's grace is more about training that trying.  Because of God's mercy, he is not opposed to my trying, but also because of his mercy he tells me that trying will not accomplish what he wants in my life.  Jesus makes this plain when he speaks about following him: "Whoever does not take up his cross and follow me is not worthy of me."  (Matthew 10:38)  The grace of Jesus calls for great effort.  The point of this grace is Christ-likeness.

In areas of importance, training is required.  People do not speak of medical trying, but medical training.  The same is true for the military, musical performance, and pastoral work.  People do not trust someone who has merely tried the field, but someone who has trained in the field.  The orientation of the will is different when a person trains for something as opposed to when they try something.  Because of the importance of following Jesus, discipleship requires the intention of training and not merely trying.

With grace as the motivation and hope and with training as my intention, I found myself asking about the actual means of Christian spiritual formation.  This is where spiritual exercises enter.  The means of producing spiritual change in my life is very rarely direct.  I cannot become humble, patient, or joyful by just practicing being humble, patient, of joyful.  This is the fast track to burnout and frustration.  Instead of focusing on the direct practice of being joyful, I learned that I needed to indirectly exercise in order to obtain joy or patience or humility.

Lifting weights is an example of and indirect exercise.  Most people do not lift weights to get better at lifting weights, but in order to enhance their ability elsewhere.  Exercise indirectly prepares a person for practice.  Without adequate strength poor performance and injury result.  Similarly, solitude, silence, fasting, and prayer can be exercise that prepare me for practicing a life with God.  

Without spiritual exercise, spiritual practice is powered by my own abilities and costs me dearly.  I cannot make myself grow, but I can be prepared for the spiritual growth and change that God's grace brings.  Spiritual exercises are the means of effort that work God's grace into my life and train me for my work with God in my life.

For Christian spiritual formation, God's action in my life - his grace - is the most essential.  This grace, by its very nature, calls out a response beyond trying: training.  In this training, spiritual exercises are a primary means by which the Spirit forms me into Christ-likeness.  The Renovare Essentials Conference will examine and teach these ideas and the ways to work them into everyday human life.

Let's Argue

Come.  Sit down.  Let's argue this out.  (Isaiah 1:18)

Love the Lord your God . . . with all your mind. (Luke 10:27)

 Argument has always been a bad word for me.  I do not like argument.  I have felt that the only people who like arguments are difficult and unpleasant sorts of people who like to be bothersome.  My policy has been, "Only jerks like to argue."

Not only personally offensive, I have also seen argument used as a political tool which only seeks to gain votes and popularity by "scoring hits" against an opposing candidate/side.  Really, it seems mostly equivalent to mudslinging. Slogans and misrepresentation dominate the whole face of this sort of argument in my mind.

So why would God want to encourage us to argue?  Is he welcoming attacks and mudslinging or encouraging the worst in me to come out in a verbal fight?  In one sense, I do believe that he is risking attacks and misunderstanding through inviting me to argue it out with him.  Of course, I will be tempted to pull whatever stunts I can to win, since that is at the heart of what it means to be a person trying to make it without God.  Inviting argument seems to put us on opposite sides in a fight.

Although God is willing to take the risk, it does not seem that is his goal.  Perhaps argument can be something else.  Perhaps it can be God exercising my reasoning and respecting my will.  Perhaps it can be a place where I can learn to love God's thoughts and will rather than be bullied and pushed by a superior being.  God comes down to me and says "Let's argue this out" rather than merely overpowering me.

If God invites argument for the sake of growing in my thought and exercising my will, could it be that such arguing might be helpful between people as well?  Maybe rewording it "discussing" would help, but only if the whole process were saturated with humility and a desire to find truth.  It has not helped to claim that there is no Truth only "truths" we individually espouse.  Such a view has a questionable view of reality as well as only entrenching us in our viewpoints and encouraging us to gather ammunition so that the most powerful ideology wins, rather than seeking out what is true and right and good together.

As far as convincing another person of my argument, I had a talk with my daughter that helped us both to understand a place that discussion and argument might have in that process.  We were talking about evangelism.  We both felt that a person cannot be argued into the kingdom of God.  Winning an argument does not equate to "winning a soul."  But while that seems true, it also seems true that an argument can keep a person out of God's kingdom.  Arguments (philosophically speaking, as premises which step to a conclusion) provide barriers or stepping stones to trusting God.  Discussing such things may enable some people to see a way through to trusting God.

There are two barriers in an argument that might keep a person from trusting God.  Either the person thinks the argument is not sound or he does not like the conclusion.  An unsound argument is either logically invalid or it has a false premise.  For example, contradiction is one thing that renders an argument invalid, like "All religions are true and all religions are false."  Or a premise itself might be false, like "God causes all suffering."  The other possibility is that the conclusion is not preferable to a person like, "Therefore, God exists and God is good."

If an argument were explored carefully and kindly, such barriers might become clearer.  Either person might find themselves questioning the soundness of their arguments or beliefs.  Either person might come to a place where they realized their main objection was the conclusion even if the argument was sound.  If God wants me to think about things, I might be able to think them through with other people without needing to push, presume, or pretend so that I can win.  If winning were not my goal, I might have more influence with other people and who knows, I might even learn something myself.

Lord, show me how I can get past my fears of argument and discussion and grow in my thinking and deciding.  Help me to kindly invite other people to join me in thinking and growing.  I want your invitation to "argue it out" to not scare me, but remind me of how much you love and respect me and desire me to walk with you as a friend.  Amen.

A Right Relationship to God

Are we prepared to leave ourselves resolutely alone and to launch out into the priestly work of prayer?  The continual grubbing on the inside to see whether we are what we ought to be generates a self-centered, morbid type of Christianity, not the robust, simple life of a child of God.  Until we get into a right relationship to God, it is a case of hanging on by the skin of our teeth, as we say.  (Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest, June 21)

Recently I had one of my "feel sorry for myself" episodes.   I have trouble with the prayer of examen at times.  When I look closely at my conscience and the desires I struggle with, I am appalled.  I think one reason is that I am hoping for a cure more than for God's grace; I want to be free from the things that tie me to God's mercy.  At the heart of it, I think I get angry because I cannot achieve autonomy more than being sorry for my sins.  I become increasingly self-centered and morbid in these moods.

The encouragement to leave myself "resolutely alone" reminds me that my even if my goal is merely to get better and grow stronger, I will not get anywhere without God at my side.  I was not made to "go it alone."  I was made to be in a close conversational relationship with God.  Jesus as the Son of Man, the ideal person, shows this in his life and words.  Everything he does is done with the Father at his side - and he has no sin in his life.

Actually, this is the essence of freedom from sin: living with the Father at my side.  Sin is merely what I do when I do not live this way.  Sins are the particular things I do in order to try to live without the Father on my own steam.  They are indicators of what my life is like without the Father.

The answer, then, is not looking inside and trying to figure out how I can get rid of sin so I can get back to God.  Since the source of my sins is distance from God, I cannot fix them apart from seeking the "right relationship" with him, a relationship of trust and continual interaction.  Like marriage, my relationship with God is repaired and deepened with the right kind of relationship with God.  Marriage is not what I do for my wife or how I think about her as much as what we do together.  Like family, my relationship with God is not merely something I work for, but something I must participate in and enjoy.  Family is not what I bring home for my kids or what opportunities I give them as much as how we live together and love each other.  A "right" relationship with God is not what I do for God or what I think about him as much as how we do life together, as a Father and son, or as a master and apprentice.

My sins, then are my efforts to live apart from this relationship and replace it with another kind.  Sins are the cracks and empty places in my life where God needs to be in order for my life to be restored and full.  Maybe I need to think about God less and exercise my fondness for him.  Maybe I need to do less for him and do more with him.  The greatest danger to my relationship with God, I think, is my service to God.  My sins tell the story.

Lord, I get knotted up inside when I try to fix myself apart from seeking you.  I will seek you, O God; your face will I seek.  In being with you as a Father, I know I will find repair and restoration.  I will find myself safe and sound in that relationship.  Instead of seeking to please you, help me to trust you more and walk with you consistently through this day and each day.  Amen.

"A Quiet More Deep Than Death"

Rest

I.

When round the earth the Father's hands
  Have gently drawn the dark;
Sent off the sun to fresher lands,
  And curtained in the lark;
'Tis sweet, all tired with glowing day,
  To fade with faded light;
To lie once more, the old weary way,
  Upfolded in the night.

A mother o'er the couch may bend,
  And rose-leaf kisses heap:
In soothing dreams with sleep they blend,
  Till even in dreams we sleep.
And, if we wake while night is dumb,
  'Tis sweet to turn and say,
It is an hour ere dawning come,
  And I will sleep till day.






II.






There is a dearer, warmer bed,
  Where one all day may lie,
Earth's bosom pillowing the head,
  And let the world go by.
Instead of mother's love-lit eyes,
  The church's storied pane,
All blank beneath cold starry skies,
  Or sounding in the rain.






The great world, shouting, forward fares:
  This chamber, hid from none,
Hides safe from all, for no one cares
  For those whose work is done.
Cheer thee, my heart, though tired and slow
  An unknown grassy place
Somewhere on earth is waiting now
  To rest thee from thy race.









III.






There is a calmer than all calms,
  A quiet more deep than death:
A folding in the Father's palms,
  A breathing in his breath;
A rest made deeper by alarms
  And stormy sounds combined:
The child within its mother's arms
  Sleeps sounder for the wind.





There needs no curtained bed to hide
  The world with all its wars,
Nor grassy cover to divide
  From sun and moon and stars
A window open to the skies,
  A sense of changeless life,
With oft returning still surprise
  Repels the sounds of strife.







IV.






As one bestrides a wild scared horse
  Beneath a stormy moon,
And still his heart, with quiet force,
  Beats on its own calm tune;
So if my heart with trouble now
  Be throbbing in my breast,
Thou art my deeper heart, and Thou,
  O God, dost ever rest.






When mighty sea-winds madly blow,
  And tear the scattered waves;
As still as summer woods, below
  Lie darkling ocean caves:
The wind of words may toss my heart,
  But what is that to me!
'Tis but a surface storm--Thou art
  My deep, still, resting sea.

(Geroge MacDonald,1864)

The Cross Is Not Mere Sacrifice

For I desire mercy, not sacrifice, and acknowledgment of God rather than burnt offerings.  (Hosea 6:6, NIV)

I want you to show love, not offer sacrifices. I want you to know me more than I want burnt offerings. (Hosea 6:6, NLT) 

The Hebrew word for "mercy" in the NIV is chesedh, which is translated as both love and mercy.  The older translation from the King James of "lovingkindness" may capture most of the word's meaning.  In a more story-form, it is the quality of kindness that is usually reserved for close friends and family members.  "A person exercising chesadh has chosen to treat the recipient as if such a relationship did exist," whether it does or not.

To further explain this term, Hosea places it parallel to "knowing God."  Knowledge of God is nearly always understood in the Bible as an interactive or conversational relationship.  It is not merely knowing about God, but actually knowing him in a personal way.  So, when God desires lovingkindness, it is not so much as an act done to others around me, but as a quality that I live in.  God is saying he wants my love more than my "sacrifices."  He wants to know me and not just receive homage from me.

In the Old Testament, sacrifices demonstrated the love and faithfulness of Israel to God.  Hosea is pointing out a disease that had spread among the people of Israel.  They were giving sacrifices without lovingkindness.  They brought their offerings without seeking to know the God they brought them to.  Their hypocrisy became plain in how they dealt with each other, showing that God's mercy and the awareness of him did not salt their attitudes toward each other.  Hosea was saying that such sacrifices were worthless and that God had no use for them outside the context of this tender love and eager conversation he longed to have with his people.

The cross of Christ stands as the final sacrifice for all people, but it must be clear that God does not desire sacrifice for the sake of sacrifice.  What underlies the sacrifice of Jesus is this lovingkindness and this passion to know God.  Jesus' loving and willing obedience to the Father is what gives the cross its ultimate significance, not his painful, morbid death.  Without such love on Jesus' part, his death is a mere tragedy - actually pathetic.

Jesus embodiment of God's lovingkindness and his awareness of the Father's presence moved him to the cross as atonement.  Jesus death by itself does not rescue me from death - separation from God - any more than the sacrifices of the Israelites in themselves brought them closer to God.  No, Jesus himself is my atonement, my covering.  His sacrifice is the most significant proof and outcome of that great love he has from the Father for me, but in itself that death means nothing apart from the life of Jesus with me.  His continuing relationship is what atones or "covers" me, not just something he did.

When I apply "I desire mercy, not sacrifice" to the cross, I find myself drawn to he heart of Jesus.  I find that God's desire is for my heart to be the same as Jesus' more than for me to suffer for him.  That is why following Jesus in Jesus' own words is "Take up your cross and follow me" rather than "Believe in my cross and you will be saved."  The response that God wants from me when I see the cross is not merely "What a wonderful thing Jesus did!"  or "What a good example Jesus gave!"  The response that God wants is "God is love.  I want to know Jesus and his Father.  I will give up this life I try to lead on my own to the cross and enter into life with him today!"  If my understanding of the cross does not naturally move me to an interactive, conversational relationship with God, then I do not understand the cross of Christ.

Lord, let your lovingkindness saturate my life.  Let this desire to know you through Jesus guide me.  Deliver me from mere sacrifices into the joy of giving up everything to you in trust and dependence.  Let the cross be to me a landmark of your great love and my increasing desire to obey you out of trust.  Apart from your daily relating to me - walking and talking with me as your own - I will not make it.  Be not far from me, Father.  Amen.

Hope in the Kingdom of God: The Gospel

Who hopes for what he already has?  But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently. . . .  We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.  (Romans 8:24b, 25, 26b)

This then is how you should pray:  Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name.  Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven. . . .  (Matthew 6:9)

The kingdom of God is not a matter of eating or drinking, but of righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit.  (Romans 14:17)

Hope and prayer are tied together.  As Paul writes, "Who hopes for what he already has?"  It is no accident that his next section deals with prayer: "We do not know what we ought to pray for."  The prayer of faith springs from the hope that delivers me:  "That faith and hope that spring from the hope that is stored up for you in heaven and that you have already heard about in the word of truth, the gospel."  (Colossians 1:5)

Without hope, faith has no basis.  "Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen."  (Hebrews 11:1, KJV)  As an idea gives birth to an invention or a feeling sprouts into a desire, faith stands on hope.  Hope waits for and eagerly anticipates what is not yet seen.  It is not wishing, but joyful anticipation of what is yet to come.  Faith naturally springs from hope as its consequence in the present.  What is truly hoped for is trusted in.

One of the truest expressions of faith in God is prayer.  It acknowledges trust.  If I do not trust, I do not pray.  Prayer without trust, without faith, is just religious babble.  "And do not keep on babbling as the pagans do, for they think they will be heard because of their many words.  Do not be like them, because your Father knows what you need before you ask him."  (Matthew 6:7-8)  How does God know this?  It is not so much because he his omniscient, but because he loves each person so deeply that he knows them so well.  This is the prayer of faith: knowing the God who knows me as a dearly loved child.

Such prayer also springs from hope.  If I do not hope, I do not pray.  Prayer without hope is just fatalism.  It takes the words "Your will be done" in the wrong way.  Instead of joyfully anticipating the work and will of God in this present age, hopeless prayer anticipates abandonment instead of deliverance, predictable outcome instead of joyful surprise, keeping the trinkets of this world rather than acquiring the treasures of God's kingdom, turning away quickly in disappointment rather than waiting patiently for the wonders of God.

Hopeless prayer is like a king's servant who was commanded, "Put this money to work," but on the return of the king says, "I was afraid of you, because you are a hard man.  You take out what you did not put in and reap what you did not sow."  The conclusion of the king: "I will judge you by your own words.  To everyone who has, more will be given, but as for the one who has nothing, even what he has will be taken away."  (Luke 19:11-26)  Hopeless prayer receives little and even that little is lost.

So my prayers express my faith and my faith is the substance of what I hope for.  Jesus focuses my hope on the kingdom of God in his model prayer.  His kingdom is not a matter of external matters like food, drink, or mere religious practices, but of living with and in his Spirit who "intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will," in accordance with God's kingdom.  I think that the Lord's prayer is an expression of what I am to hope for.

The good news according to Jesus is this: "the kingdom of God is near."  This is not opposed to other expressions of hope, but stands in concert with them.  Another famous passage of the good news is 1 Corinthians 15:3-7, which can be summarized, "Christ died for our sins.  Christ raised.  Christ appeared."  The King is near as is his kingdom.  He redeems each person from his slavery to sin, defeats all sin and evil through his resurrection, and appears to each person to invite them into his kingdom.

Lord, I have often neglected the hope you have given.  I have wondered about where my faith goes in trials and temptations.  I see now that it goes where my hope lies.  I find myself like a lot of people: without hope.  I see that is also without God.  Please deepen my hope, so I can eagerly await what I do not see.  Amen.

Faith is opposed to sight.  Hope that is seen is no hope at all.  This means not that I need to live in complete ignorance.  Faith is not opposed to knowledge, nor is hope without knowledge, since it lives in those "who have the firstfruits of the Spirit."  No, faith and hope are opposed to sight because what is seen is temporary and passing away.  What is seen holds no hope since it will leave me empty.  It is the God who is unseen that I hope in and his kingdom that rules over all and yet remains holy and hidden in these days.

How Sheep, Snakes, and Doves Share Their Faith

 I am sending you out like sheep among wolves.Therefore be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves.  (Matthew 10:16)

Jesus speaks these enigmatic words after he has been telling his disciples how to share the good news of the kingdom of God.  The warning is well taken and fairly obvious.  Sheep among wolves need to watchful and careful, but perhaps also vulnerable and dependent.  Jesus is not throwing me to the wolves, but pointing out that rather than being fierce and ravenous in my dealings with others, I should be dependent on God and self-sacrificing for others.

What is the wisdom of a snake?  Snakes don't chase things.  "The wisdom of the serpent is to wait until someone comes to them," says Dallas Willard.  The wisdom of the snake is in its timing.  Developing this sort of wisdom only comes with prayer, awareness, patience, and practice.  In reaching out to people with good news or even good deeds, timing is everything.  Sometimes I hear about that wisdom in terms like "divine appointments" or "a God thing."  I know I have to be careful not to try to manufacture such timing.  I end up being like Moses who tried to free his people by killing an Egyptian overseer rather than waiting on God's deliverance.  Win a battle, lose a war.

What is the innocence of a dove?  A dove is harmless.  It does not deserve indictment because it does not do anything.  (Although Dawn, my wife, does not think they are so harmless because their constant "cooing" drives her crazy. . . especially in the morning.)  When a dove comes, it comes with gentleness and harmlessness.  Sharing needs to be this way.  Instead of pushing, there is invitation.  Instead of accusing, their is sympathy and empathy.  Instead of demands, there are promises.

Because I fear people, I find that I reverse the confuse the roles of these creatures in sharing my faith in word or deed.  I find that I become as flighty and fearful as a dove.  Afraid of rejection or abuse, I run from opportunities to share and care.  I find that I am as venomous as a snake.  Afraid of rejection or abuse, I make my words sting so that I can safely say I shared, but they just didn't accept God's invitation.  They run and I feel I'm "off the hook."

Lord, what if I waited for people to come to me?  I sometimes feel it would never happen.  Forgive me for my inattention.  What if I did not make my words "bite?"  I sometimes feel I would never be listened to.  Forgive me for my lack of trust in you and your word.  Show me how to wait with anticipation and share without demand.  That is how you treat me so often, Father.  Thank you.  Amen.

Peace: Rest for the Soul

The last several days I have been hit in the face with peace.  From Sunday's sermon to my own devotions to God to conversations with people around me, I have been hounded by God about peace.  It started with a letter I wrote to God in which I found that one of my greatest desires is for God's peace in my life.  Today friend challenged me in her blog with the question, "What will you do?"

My experience in the last several days has been more a matter of asking, "What will you not do?"  I have numerous "peace-stealers" in my life.  As I walk through my day, I find that I am given to follow all sorts of rabbit-trails away from God's peace.  A couple of examples - as I came to my front door after work and my family was away at an Irish Dance practice for the kids, I felt a burden come on me.  I was weighed down by all the things I needed to get done and a frantic to-do list was already building in my mind.  Another situation surprised me.  A complement from a friend unsettled me.  I found my mind whirling and planning for how I could continue to impress this friend further to get more complements.

I have already tried to live in peace that was not not from God.  The peace of indifference is tempting at times, but certainly has no relationship with the peace of God which is coupled with love and joy.  The peace of ease is more tempting still, except that it makes me irritated with people (not loving at all) when they wreck my plans for ease and quiet.  I realize that one of the big problems with seeking God's peace is that I confuse it with other forms of "peace" that get thrown around.

Perhaps one of the the best description of God's peace is given by Jesus (surprise!) when he tells all those who are weary and burdened to take on his yoke.  Straining against a yoke like a cow or an ox was not the first idea I had about seeking peace.  Some sort of spiritual calm or release from troubles in my life seem to make more sense.  Instead Jesus says, "Learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls."  (Matthew 11:29)  Jesus touches on where I really need rest: my soul.

The "yoke" of a Jewish rabbi in Jesus' time was his specific teaching.  The teaching of such rabbis (Jesus included) was not primarily book-learning, but life-learning.  We might do better to be apprentices rather than students of Jesus because of the typical idea of learning in our day.  A disciple of a rabbi was learning to become like the rabbi.  They were not trying merely to understand what the rabbi said, they were trying to do what the rabbi did.  So Peter got out of the boat to walk on the water as any disciple should who followed their rabbi.  Rabbi Jesus, in picking his disciples, was saying in essence, "I believe you can be like me!"

So I find two things at work.  First, I need to lay down my burdens.  I would call them burdens and not my work or my calling.  Burdens are the many things I take on myself.  God does not put them on me.  I gather them like a dust mop gathers dust.  And they stick.  When I am overwhelmed, I have been practicing reminding myself that God has given me enough time to do what he wants me to do.  Usually that means I do not have to hurry if I am trying to walk with him in my life rather than trying to please everybody else and myself.  God is not the author of hurry and worry.

Laying down burdens is really hard work!  However, Jesus' promise is that as hard as it is, it is much easier than trying to keep living with the burdens I gather for myself.  In order to take hold of Jesus' yoke I have to let go of the one I keep trying to pull myself.  In daily terms, this means that I have to learn how to say "No" and practice the first part of the Serenity prayer: "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference."  As thoughts come that worry or hurry me, I am learning how to let them go and focus on what is at hand and what God would have of me.

At the heart of this is self-denial, or taking up my cross.  I need to learn not to harbor and to continually focus on my own desires.  I do not have to try to get rid of them entirely.  That is not possible or beneficial.  Rather, by putting them aside, I begin to learn which one are burdens and which ones are delights.  I learn how God can satisfy all my desires so that I do not have to worry about them.  I learn that the pride of uncontrolled desire is what makes my life miserable and ugly, while self-denial creates room for humility.  If I am not spending all my time worrying about how to get what I want, I might stand a chance at doing what God wants (his will).  I can thoroughly trust him to look out for my interests and meet my desires.

After laying some burdens down I am ready to take up the "easy yoke."  Why easy?  Well, I think it's at least easier than what I try to do on my own.  The Bible calls "doing on my own" living "in the flesh."  Instead God has provided grace which is his strength available to do what I cannot do on my own or in my flesh.  If I live by grace, I live by the loving strength that God provides for people who do his will, what he wants.  In terms of the yoke, I have the lift it up and put it on, but Jesus himself is my yoke-fellow.  So who is really doing the work?  Certainly not me.  But I do need to submit to the yoke and go where he goes.

When self-denial does its work by God's grace in my life, I find there is space for humility.  The rest that Jesus offers is not a vacation nor is it anesthesia.  The rest comes from humility.  Peace comes from humility among other things.  Humility is not merely realizing how wrong I am, but more realizing how right and good God is.  Humility lives where I am nothing and God is everything.  Not to say I am worthless, but that my worth is found in how I relate with God, live with God, and serve my God.  Humility is so much more than being "sorry."  It is knowing my proper place in God's great universe.

So, I am finding that peace comes from letting my desires go easily and quickly in favor of doing what God wants.  In that practice my whole life (my soul) begins to become more ordered by God's commands.  Each part of my life (mind, heart, body, social sphere) begins to work together with God as one whole life instead of as fighting factions, mind vs. body, etc.  Meaning and direction start to form in this ordered, integrated soul and make obedience to God possible.  That is where this peaceful "soul rest" comes out: obedience to Christ.  In God's kingdom, in that most intimate relationship with Christ, obedience is abundance.

All that to say I will seek peace by:

1. Seeking, studying, and asking for the peace that Christ had as he lived, loved, and served other people in his earthly ministry,
2. Learning to say "No" to my desires in everyday life and through deliberate practices by God's grace, 
3. Learning to say "Yes" to the commands of Christ my Teacher in everyday life and through deliberate practices by God's grace, and 
4. Anticipating and seeking a life where God is everything to me and where I rely on him to fulfill my needs and desires.

How would you find peace, rest for your soul?  How would you learn from Christ?