I was thinking about the issue of trust the other day. How do we examine our trust of God? It's one of those abstract things we think we understand. We seem to think of trust as a rather flat emotion or decision with no layers or nuances. If you trust the bank you put your money there. If not, you take it out. Our trust in a bank is based on its credibility as an institution. There aren't many layers to such trust. We don't put our wallet on the bank's front step and then watch closely ready to swoop in and grab it away if our heart fails us and we get nervous. It's black and white trust. The bank has met its threshold of proof that it is worthy of trusting - therefore, we trust. But this simple illustration can't really plumb the depths of what it means to trust God. Personally, I think my understanding of trust has been deepened by my relationships with my children.
Reality check. Change is hard. Real change usually requires a change in our thinking. A behavior like smoking or overeating is hard to overcome, not just because of the physical effects of such a change, but because we are forced to challenge what we believe about that behavior. We have to stop telling ourselves that eating an entire gallon of ice cream, or a whole cheesecake or smoking 4 cigarettes at once is going to fix things and make us feel better. We have to wrestle with our belief system to effect such a change. The same is true of other changes in our life.
We build up belief systems as defensive walls around our behaviors (especially bad behaviors). Lust, greed, insecurity, selfishness, bitterness, materialism - all of these are rooted in belief systems that we cherish like malevolent children. We are constantly protecting these behaviors and thoughts by telling ourselves why it's ok to think or behave this way. We reinforce our belief in the "ok'ness" of our bad habits by holding court in our head every time such beliefs are challenged by the Holy Spirit. So, to change such things we must first be willing to acknowledge that we are wrong. Then we have to be willing to challenge ourselves.
The older we get the harder it is to challenge these belief systems. Our heart stiffens and becomes less prone to being swayed. There is a reason that advertisers covet young eyes. They often speak of the "brand loyalty" of people past a certain age. Older folks have already settled on a kind of toothpaste, type of cereal (bran no doubt) and a place to buy tires - or so goes the logic. For most people, changing anything significant after age 30 is enormously difficult. Thank God for his grace. Without grace it is doubtful that we could make any progress at all. But grace does not usually deliver us from the painful process required if we are to change and grow - and growth is an essential part of our walk with Jesus. Grace is a staple and a catalyst, but growth still comes most often through a struggle.
It was late fall in the heart of the Appalachian Mountains. There is no picture in nature quite like these mountains in autumn. The hardwood trees that blanket everything turn to gold-tinged reds and browns like embers in a fire. The air had that chilly crispness that makes you breathe deeply and draw in your shoulders at the same time. I was fresh out of Bible College in my first position as a youth pastor in the sleepy town of Big Stone Gap Virginia. Big Stone Gap (we usually shortened the name to just “Big Stone”) is nestled in the hollow of 2 mountain ranges east of the Cumberland Gap. The men in our church were largely coal miners. They started as young boys “picking rock” – a task that involves removing fragments of rock from the coal as it moved along a conveyer belt. They married young, had many children, and most of them died young as well. Their faith was plain and decent. They expected life to be a struggle and they experienced joy and tragedy with the same stoic resolve… which is why my first Big Stone funeral came as such a shock.
A significant part of worship is how we experience God’s love. I believe that our view of his love in our life is related to our own sense of gratitude for his grace and forgiveness. In Luke 7 we find the story of a woman who anointed Jesus feet and wiped them with her hair. The Pharisees were upset because the woman was known to be sinful. Jesus says this remarkable thing:
Luke 7:47
[New Living] “I tell you, her sins—and they are many—have been forgiven, so she has shown me much love. But a person who is forgiven little shows only little love.”
Is Jesus saying that people with a sordid past have an “inside track” to loving God? Is it necessary to fall into the depths of depravity in order to fully appreciate His love?
Since it seems to be a point of emphasis, I thought I might blog on the idea of singing a new song. After last night's practice I sensed that our idea of what Sean is driving at when he wants us to "sing a new song" might need some clarity. To some it might mean a scary free fall of musical mumbo jumbo. To others it might feel quite natural. That's the way it is with expressions of worship. They tend to be either learned or innate. The good news is that singing extemporaneously (singing a "new song") can be something you grow into, even if it doesn't feel natural. Being a choir member means you already love to sing so you are half way there.