Turning Over Some Tables

There are times when I can clearly see Christ's face, gentle and luminous, yet even with that clarity it is always surrounded by a thick gray mist that is impenetrable. It is the origin and composition of this haze that alludes me. I was asked, rather presumptuously, by a faith member, "if God is here," he marked the air with the slide of his hand, "where are you?" It did not take me long to expose the absurdity of the question. Not only does it assume that I know where God is but it also proposes that God is in a linear relationship with me as if He is somewhere else and I am moving towards Him as my knowledge of Him gets greater.

This is why I believe, at least in part, that the haze is other people's practice of Christianity and not the completed work of Christ. When I am alone with my thoughts, pondering on the enormity of the problem in comparison to my being, it is there that I see Him most clearly. Perhaps I am closer to the realization that closeness to God is more a function of pride than it is of faith. Even Paul who had an encounter with Christ acknowledged that we see through a glass darkly. It is when we convince ourselves that we are able to wipe that glass clean and see God, that confidence replaces humility.

I am afraid that some have been deceived by the cult of personal power and affect. They are so eager to rush into ministry when both Christ and Paul took time in the desert. Paul who saw Christ, and Christ who was Himself the Son of God both stepped out to ponder the call and if it took Christ 40 days of intense introspection and temptation to prepare Him for three and a half years of ministry, how much longer should it take those who are not as sensitive to the Holy Spirit to minister for a lifetime? Some have confused action with intentionality, success with desire, networking with a genuine impact on another person's life and worse, they have exchanged humility for personal recognition. It does not matter what you have accomplished, it only matters what you are willing to accomplish for Christ--and that cannot be captured on any resume or any webpage.

Faith is a commodity which is bought and sold at a premium. Spiritual knowledge is packaged up and traded to those too lazy or too consumed by their own plans to acquire it themselves through prayer and fasting. It is no better than the indulgences sold by the Church, the same indulgences that spurred Martin Luther to protest, creating a ripple that soon turned into a tidal wave that crashed across Catholic Europe.

One day of prayer and fasting, scheduled in amongst more temporal activities is a sham, an affront to those who laid the foundations of this faith by willingly being enslaved to God's plan. Prayer is not a spiritual workout, performed dutifully every morning and sometimes at night when we have indulged too much in sin. Prayer is an unceasing lifestyle. How can a person called to the highest of callings, given the words of life, having tasted the sweetest nectar of God's boundless love live any longer in the mundane? How can anything less than total submission to God suffice? Humility, compassion and brokenness, these are the commodities of the Kingdom; don't let an outsider, a Philistine, a donkey have to remind you of that. It may be a harsh criticism, but it is truly meant in love.