Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Buckets of Mud Pies




As someone who has done lots of ministry work with teenagers, I probably feel older than most people would consider 28 to be, though of course I know it's too early to write off the rest of my life.

But I can write it off entirely in one sense, because it's not mine. I am not my own, I've been bought for a price, and I serve a risen Lord who has more claim to my allegiance and obedience than any earthly ruler or parent ever could have.

We speak (more or less seriously, depending on the person) about a bucket list, and all the things we want to accomplish before we die. I don't have any actual list written down, but as a goal-oriented person, I certainly have things I'd like to experience in this life, both near and short-term. But from time to time I am reminded:


God doesn't care about my bucket list.


He cares for me, without question. More than I love myself; more than I can fathom. But as for my somewhat randomly-assembled little list of life goals, skills to master, things to do, places to see- God will see to it that I accomplish very little on that list.

We (especially in America, perhaps) are used to what we want being considered very important. Self-actualization has been elevated to the level of a religious doctrine. Even whole sections of the church have gone over to the side of Self, proclaiming that God eagerly desires to help you accomplish your goals.

This is false. God wants to help you die to yourself, and live for Him.

The process will really feel like dying at times, because it is; part of you -the old part which at this point you have trouble distinguishing from the new, glorious person into whom God is changing you- is being killed off, and it hurts like the pangs of death. But then, having submitted to God's surgical fire, what's left of you takes a deep breath, and tastes eternal air you've never before breathed. There is nothing in this life that compares to it.

As C.S.Lewis memorably wrote:
“It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.” (From 'The Weight of Glory')

Our bucket lists, harmless as they may be, are full of mud. As materially blessed people who do not have to constantly be concerned for our own survival, we think of the best, most fun and most rewarding goals we can, and decide we're entitled to at least a shot at them. "endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, among these... the pursuit of happiness," it's in the American Declaration of Independence, enshrined in our national and cultural DNA.

Apologies to our founders (who I'm aware were focused on rebuking earthly tyranny), but God is not primarily concerned with the inviolability of your pursuit of happiness; He is busy violating it. He sacrificed even Himself out of love for you, and intends to purify you into a son or daughter who can enjoy the eternal joy of His presence. That process means you will forgo much, much earthly happiness, even some of those things which those outside (and often inside) the Church claim make life worth living.

I personally believe that if you have never, in faith, given up something you didn't think you could live without, you haven't really tasted the presence of God in its fullness.

As the Apostle Paul says in 1 Corinthians 15, if there is no resurrection and this life is all we have, Christians are to be pitied more than anyone else. Since I started down the path of full-time missions work, the truth of that statement has been driven home repeatedly. At no time previous did I know so many people doing so many fun things around the world. In our current culture it is extremely difficult to be young, single, well-educated, well-connected internationally, and dying daily for Christ, without falling prey to discouragement.

(May I one day be so alive in Christ and so dead to myself that the joy always outshines the discouragement, but I hear from my older and wiser brothers and sisters in Christ that the struggle does not ever quite end in this life.)

But in my discouragement, God reminds me that I am chasing after the mud pies Lewis mentioned. Sure, the mud pies might be fancier than they were, with little encrusted pebbles and even a shiny trinket or two, but God is calling me away from it all, to Himself.

So I probably won't get to attend a World Cup match or the Olympics, won't get to tour Europe, won't get to learn a dozen languages, won't get to indulge my passionate desire to learn as much about the whole world as I possibly can in one lifetime. But to the extent that I long after those things, and not after Christ, those things are stumbling blocks, idols that God will mercifully deny me the opportunity to worship.

To the extent that I long after Christ and not those things, they will recede in importance behind knowing, obeying, and exalting Him, and making Him known among the nations. This is how earthly dreams die a supernatural death. And those dreams which distract us from God should die; to say otherwise is to make Him less than Lord in our life.

Many Christians have remained in sin trying to avoid bad behavior but not having something with which to replace it. But nature abhors a vacuum, and so does human nature; if we do not have a passionate, all-consuming desire for the glory of God, we won't gain it by simply ceasing to want earthly things. This is why sanctification is a process; God slowly refines us, taking away the lesser, earthly desires and replacing them with the relationship with Him that He created us to enjoy. This is a process in which we must participate with Him, and from which, if we are really in Christ and not drowning in the world's distractions (as difficult in today's culture to escape as they ever were, I believe), we should not drift away. (Hebrews 2:1)

I don't write this to say that doing fun things is wrong. I don't write this to say you shouldn't have goals or plans that are fun and rewarding. I write this because I am distressed by the number of Christians, especially my fellow young-professional-aged Christians, that I see who are believers but living life along the default path of success, fun, or comfort, not realizing God calls us to something much more difficult (far too difficult... impossible without Him) and infinitely more rewarding.

It won't be going to live on the other side of the world for most people (it will for some, maybe you!), but it will always look like waking up and recommitting to being a living sacrifice every day. You'll never see the amazing things God can do if you don't forsake your comfort zone to see them. (I don't say this from a position of superiority; seven years ago I was busily arranging my life to ensure maximum future comfort. It was God that invaded and kicked me out into an uncomfortable place of faith, praise Him.)

"Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will." (Romans 12:1-2)

Take a chance right now. Pour out your bucket list on the altar, and surrender your life to God. If you follow after Him, He will lead you to places and work through you in ways you never dreamed of, for His glory, and your indescribable joy.

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