Obedient Wrestling

“If I tell Jesus my anger, he’ll throw me out of the room.” The young woman’s tears glistened on her cheeks.

During prayer ministry time, I had just encouraged her to be honest with God about how she felt. Her husband had cheated and she’d been downsized. She was furious with her husband, her boss, and with God for letting it all happen.

“What makes you say he’ll throw you out?”

“I dunno. But that’s what my father would have done.” She wiped her tears with a crumbled tissue.

“But you’ve turned your back, your arms are crossed, and you’re ten feet away from him, right?”

“Well, yes.”

“There’s a world of difference, in our anger, between facing away and facing toward him.”

“Oh.” She looked at me, a half-smile mixing with her tears.

“He knows your anger. But he doesn’t know you in your anger. He wants to know you.”

“He won’t reject me?”

“Did he reject Jacob? I’m not talking about cursing God. I’m talking about a respectful but intense wrestling with him. Like Jacob did in the wilderness when he wrestled with the angel of the Lord. That was where Jacob’s name changed. It was that honest wrestling that changed Jacob’s character so much he needed a new name.”

“Oh. How do I wrestle with a God I can’t see?” She stared at the carpet.
“Write a letter to him.”

A letter allows us to pour out our emotions in words to the God who listens. It also enables us to confess to God our dark desires to hurt others as we’ve been hurt.

The Father of Jesus is unlike any other authority figure most of us know. He invites us into an obedient wrestling.

To wrestle is to learn the contours of your opponent’s very body.  To wrestle with God is to experience him and let him experience us.  Not only will God stay in the room with us, obedient wrestling will teach us the contours of our hearts–and of his.

Jesus, give us grace to wrestle.

History-Making

My pastor in the seventies, Richard Foth, used to say, “That Jesus died is history. That Jesus died for me is history-making.”  History is the narrative of the past. History-making is that which changes the course of life or of a life.

Do a search for “history-making” and you will get references to Nancy Pelosi’s “history-making” position as the first U.S. congress speaker of the house who is a woman. Another link, to the recent 112-57 loss by the basketball team, the Cavaliers, was “history-making” of a different sort. Never in their 41-year existence have they lost so badly.

Barak Obama’s first African-American U.S. presidency is both history in the making and history-making. Hailed two years ago as a near-messiah, his final rating is yet to be ascertained.

And yet, for some, his presidency has defused their internalized racism. Just after his election, echoing the sentiments of many African-Americans, the Liberian present Ellen Johnson Sirleaf said she did not expect to see a black American president in her lifetime. “All Africans now know that if you persevere, all things are possible,” she said. (1)

Mr. Obama has turned out to be less than messiah, though even he has been history-making for some who have found a new belief in their own gifts and talents as they see someone who looks like them ascended to the most powerful position in the world.

Only when history becomes personal does it become history-making. Obama’s victory was personal for many.

Jesus’ victory is personal for all.

Jesus died to join you and me to a good Father-God.

When see that, it’s history-making–for us–individually.

Jesus, show us your face. We want you to make history in our lives, for your glory.

Holy Spirit Flavors

Rice and beans? Meat and potatoes? Cheese, bread, and fruit? These are three among many cuisines. Which are you drawn to? Based on your upbringing or your sense of adventure, you probably prefer one diet over the other. All provide the needed protein. Each group comes in manifold types and combinations. Flavors range from mild to strong.

Does the Holy Spirit, like world cuisines, come in different flavors? That was my thought in worship recently, as I sensed the presence of God through his Spirit in a charismatic gathering. In an atmosphere of lively music, many people raised their hands, and a few danced. My tears flowed as I sensed Jesus’ kindness.

But for many, charismatic worship feels out of control, too emotional. They prefer the majesty of an Episcopal or Catholic service. The design of the structure for worship conveys the presence of the Holy Spirit as much as the music or the words of songs. An ideal setting for them would be Washington, D. C.’s National Cathedral.

Others prefer the simplicity of a non-instrumental Church of Christ. A few years ago, at a writing conference, we sang worship songs accompanied by a piano. I sat with a new acquaintance who was used to singing a capella. “I’m distracted by the instruments,” she said. I’m guessing she didn’t sense the presence of the Holy Spirit that day. The flavor impeded her experience of God.

Jesus in the flesh gave people the experience they needed–sometimes strong, sometimes majestic, sometimes sweet. Humble, flexible, and responsive, His Spirit also provides strengthening protein in flavors we respond to.

Father, Son, Spirit: Thank you for your infinite variety. Feed us today, and this year so we may continue to grow up into you.