Culturally Irrelevant

The contrast between the ”Shinarites” in Genesis 11 and Abram in chapter 12 is a perfect example of kingdom vs. Kingdom

The Shinarites ”said to each other, ‘Come, let’s make bricks’” while Abram left his home behind and struck out into the unknown “as the Lord had told him.” They “settled” in the plain while Abram “traveled” from place to place. They said, let’s build ourselves a city with a tower to heaven, but he built a humble altar of worship and pitched a tent. They said “let us make a name for ourselves” but he “called on the name of the Lord.” They didn’t want to be scattered all over the face of the earth, while Abram followed God from Ur to Haran to Canaan to Egypt and back to Canaan.

Here’s the incredible irony. Everything they desperately wanted God freely gave to Abram, and much more. Everything they feared came upon them, while God settled Abram’s fears and carried him through difficult times into abundance, promise and legacy. They wanted to hole up away from the wide world while God thrust Abram out into the world and made him a blessing to many nations. They wanted a name and got nothing but confusion. God gave Abram a new name that lasts to this day.

Abram trusted God without evidence. He put his family, his fortune, his faith and his future into God’s hands, trusting an unsubstantiated promise. He went out not knowing where he was going, but he had a living word from a living God. He wandered in tents, exposed to the elements but full faith, fully surrendered. In exchange, God gave him protection, peace and favor with those around him, a great name and eventually a place to settle and call home. His only monument was an altar of surrender, and what did God have to work with in the natural? A barren woman who laughed at the promise and her 100-year-old husband.

Man has kingdoms. Lots of them. And they’re impressive, no doubt. I have kingdoms. Mostly little ones. In reality, we all tend to have our own little kingdoms we’re working on. But God has a great big Kingdom, and he operates his differently than we do ours. 

Here are some questions I continually ask myself. Whose kingdom am I building? Am I settling somewhere, getting comfortable and surrounding myself with protection, or am I letting myself get thrust out for the sake of others? Am I building any monuments to myself, even little ones? Am I helping someone else build a monument to themself or to a group’s hard work and smart planning? Am I still willing to risk everything to follow Jesus, to go whenever and wherever he might lead?

Most people glaze over when someone starts talking about the kingdom of God. We get the general idea, but the word kingdom isn’t appreciated since it’s outside our experience. For a voting democracy, the idea of life under a dictatorship is too foreign to carry any practical significance. But there’s a really great reason why Jesus’ first sermon topic was “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near!” We’re easily caught up in the “kingdoms” of men because they’re all around us, and they’re pretty amazing, naturally speaking (Dubai comes to mind). It’s what we can see and hear. But God’s kingdom is so different. It’s not observed with looking or listening.

Some years after the flood of Noah’s day, a bunch of people got together and moved to a cozy little plain in Shinar (Babylonia). They baked up a ton of bricks and built a city with a massive tower in the middle (a ziggurat). Their motivation was to band together, muster their collective strength and wealth and make a name for themselves. Oh, and they wanted to build something that would reach to heaven, representing their amazing mad ”skills”.

On the surface you might think that these people were just acting on common sense. I mean, isn’t that pretty much what everyone does? You get together, build a city, put up a wall, pool your resources, fight off the bad guys and live happily ever after with your family and a little garden out back, right?

The catch is that they knew about God, the history of the garden, the fall and the flood. They knew God had a way of doing things, but they deliberately chose to leave God out of their plans. They wanted their own thing, something great that would be a monument to what they could accomplish without him. Of course, you know the rest of the story. God takes one look, doesn’t disagree that they have amazing skills, but foresees the danger of their rebellious independence and in mercy stops it before they have a chance to pull it off and self-destruct in a lifestyle of arrogance and self-indulgence. At the end of the day, they got off pretty easy.

A little segway. Clarity by contrast is a beautiful thing. Bite into a Gala apple from Wal-Mart and you’ll think you’ve got a really crisp, refreshing apple. But then sink into a Pink Lady from a local health food store and strap your taste buds down, cause it’s a world of difference. Or take that blue shirt you bought 2 years ago. It’s still a deep blue in your mind, even though you know you’ve washed it a million times. You wear it over and over, thinking it still looks great. But then one day you see it in an old picture and realize how faded it has become.

Ok, the point. Tomorrow I want to contrast the “Shinarites” from Genesis 11 with the story that immediately follows in Genesis 12. This is where it gets good.

He isn’t increased in glory by my worship or decreased by my turning away. He is abundant always. And those hidden in Christ are as immovable as he is.

If you sin, how does that affect him? If your sins are many, what does that do to him? 
If you are righteous, what do you give to him, or what does he receive from your hand? 
Your wickedness affects only a man like yourself, and your righteousness only the sons of men.
(Job 35:6-8)

There is nothing lacking in the godhead. Ok, I’ve known that in my head, but it’s starting to make its way into my gut.  The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit are and always have been perfect in unity, in love and in relationship. There’s nothing anyone can do to add or take away from God. He’s eternally existent and unchanging. My worship or lack of it can’t change him at all. The only thing that changes is me. Whether I enjoy him or despise him, worship him or denounce him, need him or reject him, he never changes. His love is constant, his glory is abundant and his mercy is always available. 

If God doesn’t need anything from me then why am I here? Isaiah 4:6-7 says that we were created for his glory, to showcase who he really is. It’s not that we’re increasing his glory; we’re just reflecting it to others. In other words, I was created to be a unique expression of his nature so that others can see him clearly. He expresses all of the facets of his abundant nature through his creation. I’m here to be a living, breathing, walking, talking expression of him. And when I’m being that, being completely true to what he put in me, I’m happiest. Worship, then, is the expression of my life as it reflects his glory. My work, my play, my talk, my thoughts, they all express his glory. But I can’t bring him glory in my own strength.

We’re conditioned to believe that value comes from productivity, what we can provide for others or what we can give to God through service or devotion or worship. Martha was doing the most work, yet it was Mary who was commended for sitting, listening, receiving and being. Peter couldn’t imagine that Jesus would want to wash his feet. “No, I need to wash your feet, Jesus. You’re God, so I should serve you. I should be the one doing, like the way all good subjects serve their king.” But Peter could not add to Jesus or take from him. It was Peter who needed, who lacked. So Jesus said, “If you don’t let me wash your feet, you can’t have any part in me.”

It’s why the kingdom requires only that I believe, which to me is simply the act of receiving. Jesus said, “Come, eat my flesh and drink my blood.” Yes, at some point I will serve him and do for him, but not before I’ve died with him, received from him, been filled with him, healed by him, hidden in him and know who I am in him.

Activity that doesn’t flow from an abundance of Christ is like trying to cut down a tree with a spoon. Sometimes I feel useless at his feet, like I’m not helping anyone or being productive. But when it’s Christ who lives in me then every little thing I say and do is a true expression, a powerful seed, a light of hope, a healing outflow of his love and character. That’s what the world and the body needs, and it’s ultimately what makes me the happiest.

God, forgive me for my pride and my feeble efforts. I’m ready to receive like a child. To take you in without fear of what I’m not. There’s no shame in my weakness, only glory in being covered by you!

part 2 - Ahaz and raising kids

Yesterday I stopped with a grandpa with leprosy, a son with nauseatingly dying faith and a grandson on the way. Enter Ahaz. Here’s what Kings has to say about this young man:

Unlike David his father, he did not do what was right in the eyes of the Lord his God. He walked in the ways of the kings of Israel and even sacrificed his son in the fire, following the detestable ways of the nations the Lord had driven out before the Israelites. He offered sacrifices and burned incense at the high places, on the hilltops and under every spreading tree.  (2 Kings 16:2-4)

Now how did that happen? His dad and grandpa weren’t slouches. Sure, they didn’t follow through with the entire covenant, but they did their best, right? Well, I’m realizing maybe the problem’s right there. They did it part of the way. They were half-hearted. They knew what God desired and chose to keep a little back.

The Bible is silent on the details of Jotham and Ahaz’s father-son relationship. Whether or not Jotham was an absentee father who didn’t teach his son, or if Ahaz was somehow emotionally scared by some tragic event. So it’s probably complicated and we’ll never know. But it looks like the saying “like father, like son” is not always true. Yes, Jotham was like Azariah. But because Jotham didn’t advance, there was little chance for Ahaz to stay on the same course. This story tells me that sin is like spiritual entropy, constantly decaying things that don’t move or grow. Chances are that my faith will grow from what my father imparted to me or it will fall way, but it probably won’t just be the same. So Ahaz saw something irrelevant and powerless in Jotham’s life that he didn’t care for, or he just didn’t want anything to do with Yahweh because he wanted the pleasures of sin more.  Either way, it didn’t take. The baton didn’t get passed.

So what can I do to make sure my boys “catch it”? Well, I’m a new dad and I’ve never done this before, but here’s the way I’m approaching it. First, I’ve learned that I’m a steward over my kids. God has trusted me with their care, but ultimately they don’t belong to me. So, everything I do had better be pleasing to their heavenly Father because I’m going to stand before him one day and give an account for my words towards them, my actions towards them and my choices to steward and nurture the gifts within them.

Starting there, I believe my primary responsibility is to protect them and provide for them according to the gifts and grace God has given me. But in the middle of all that is the “how”. And at this point in my life I believe the most influential thing I can do is to chase God wholeheartedly. Really. I mean, to grow in my faith, to have a personal, intimate walk with God that is open and desperate and real. And then, I need to include my kids in that relationship, to let them look in and see it, and to be consistent with it and to let it affect the way that I treat them and talk to them. Katy and I have gathered basic teaching and discipline tools from Scripture and godly counsel, but even good tools are useless if my heart’s in the wrong place. But when my relationship with the Father is right, everything else seems to fall in line. And ultimately, when I’ve done that, it will have to be my kids’ choice as they grow up to pursue God or not. And I believe that they will because of what’s being deposited on the inside of them and the example that’s being lived in front of them, both from us as well as other mature believers who surround them.

part 1 – questions and a little history

As a dad I’m asking myself, ”Are my kids experiencing the love of the Father through me? What’s getting passed on to the next generation of Watts boys?” I want my kids’ relationship with the Father to be more  intimate than my own. People say that what one generation does in moderation the next will do in excess. I assume that’s referring to sin, because when it comes to following God things are a little different. With godliness, it seems like what one generation does radically, the next usually does half-heartedly.

Take three generations of kings, for example. You’ve got Azariah (Uzziah), his son Jotham, and Jotham’s son Ahaz…grandpa, son and grandson. The writer of Kings says Azariah “did what was right in the eyes of the Lord, as his father had done.” (2 Kings 15:3) Now he wasn’t perfect. He let the people of Judah offer sacrifices to pagan idols. But he did, for the most part, try to follow God’s laws and serve him. The author of Kings says that God afflicted Azariah with leprosy until the day he died. His son, Jotham, had to govern the palace and the kingdom by proxy.

Jotham was basically Azariah II. He did what was right in God’s eyes (2 Kings 15:34), but, like his father, he still did not remove the high places of pagan idol worship. Even though Jotham did most everything else right, the whole national idol worship thing was a huge deal to God. So, like with his father, God afflicted Jotham. In this case he did it by raising up foreign leaders to fight against him. Even so, Jotham was a case of generational status quo. His faith didn’t get stronger, didn’t grow. And growth is a great indicator of life, which means Jotham’s faith was either dead or dying. Bottom line: status quo faith means dying faith, and dying faith is hot on its way to cold, or lukewarm, which God hates ad nauseum…literally (see Revelation 3:16).

So we’ve got a grandpa with leprosy, a son with nauseatingly dying faith and a grandson on the way. Enter Ahaz. Part 2 is tomorrow, but for now I’m examining my own faith. Is it growing? Am I coasting? Are there areas in my life and my relationships with God and others where I’m just relying on past successes, past experiences or past answers? Am I really seeking for fresh perspective, fresh understanding? Am I asking any new questions about my life or the lives of those around me?

In general, most historians seem to write from the perspective of social, economic and political influence and power. Important events are defined by key shifts in power along with the key influencers who motivated or directed these shifts. Interestingly, the writers of the Bible come at things a little upside down and a bit sideways. Take for instance the Old Testament kings. Two of the most politically and economically influential kings after Solomon were Omri and Jeroboam II. The author of Kings says that they did evil in the sight of the Lord and then gives minimal details of their rule. They’re basically sidelined. But then you have guys like Ahab and Josiah and Hezekiah that get all kinds of coverage by the author. Why?

The writers of the Bible saw history from God’s perspective, and what God cared about was whether or not people obeyed his word. For Israel, everything centered around the covenant God had with his people. If they obeyed the covenant, things would be good. If they did not obey it, they were in big trouble. So, biblical historians didn’t care so much if a king was wealthy or influential or politically savvy. They cared about the king’s heart, whether or not he obeyed God’s laws and followed the covenant.

The Old Testament prophets were continually calling Israel and her leaders back to God’s covenant. Back to righteousness, justice, mercy and love. The kings who got the most coverage were the ones who either blew it big and sent Israel reeling into rebellion (Ahab) or the ones who crusaded major reforms, destroying idols and calling the people back to covenantal obedience (Josiah).

What about our own view of history? Everything that’s on TV or in the paper comes at life events from a political, economic or social slant. The secular media doesn’t care about God’s perspective. So, where are we getting our perspective of what’s going on around us? Why are certain events important to us? What motivates us to pray for our leaders or for change to happen?

God, give me a heart to see my generation with your eyes. Let me hear with your ears so that the drawings and yearnings of your heart don’t get drowned out by a thousand other voices. I am constantly judging by what I see and hear naturally and what I discern with my own sense of right and wrong. But here is my mouth and my eyes and my ears. They’re yours, set apart for your purpose. Father, what do you care about? How do you interpret what’s going on in my generation?

part 3 – a burden

When I’m wearing the yoke of constant intimacy with Christ (abiding in the vine), carrying the load that I’ve been given is a joy. I have the grace for it. But when I carry that load, or more than I’m given, from any other “yoke”, I get outside that place of rest in Christ and begin to strive and strain. I start doing things my way, in my strength. That’s where burdens come in.

In the original language of the New Testament, this word burden, or “baros”, meant a difficult or imposing requirement. That’s different than the “load” mentioned before, which is a measured weight that is meant to be carried, like freight being loaded onto a ship. A burden is unmeasured and unfitting. It restricts movement and makes it difficult to be productive.

There are three different types of burdens that I see in scripture: 1) the weight of sin, 2) the traditions of men, and 3) difficulty during trials. In this post I’d like to stick to the first two. Paul covers the first one in Galatians 6: “Brothers, if someone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should restore him gently. But watch yourself, or you also may be tempted. Carry each other’s burdens…” (vss. 1-2) Here, burdens are moral faults or the burden of sin. Sin is a self-imposed burden that breaks my intimacy with Christ.

This kind of burden is like a broken arm. The rest of my body may be just fine, but that one area of pain takes all of my attention and keeps me from doing anything else. Untreated sin is a festering wound that cripples my ability to walk in faith with God and in relationship with others. Until the burden of sin is removed from my life, I can’t fully experience life in Jesus.

So a burden can be self-imposed through a choice to get tangled up in sin, and it can also be imposed by those in authority. Leaders in the body of Christ are meant to guide and serve, but often they make decisions out of their emotions or past paradigms and place requirements on people that are not from God. When a leader relies on sources other than biblical truth and the leading of the Holy Spirit, the result will usually be an unmeasured response that imposes a difficult requirement upon others. The pharisees were famous for this, and the early church battled it constantly.

Fortunately, the New Testament gives us examples of heavy burdens appropriately being withheld from the church. In Acts 15:28, the Jerusalem council sent a letter to the Gentile world telling them “it seemed good to us…not to burden you with anything beyond the following requirements.” This is similar to the way Jesus speaks to the Church of Thyatira in Revelation 2:24: “But to the rest of you who are in Thyatira, who do not hold this teaching (who have not known the deep things of Satan, as they call them) I place no other burden on you.”

I’m constantly checking my life for extra burdens. I’ve discovered that I am constantly in the state of adding burdens to my own life and the lives of others, even if it’s in very small, almost imperceptible ways. But the Holy Spirit is in the business of constantly removing burdens and weights. At this point in my life, I’m tired of carrying heavy burdens in my own strength. My only desire to is be yoked to Christ, carrying the load he has given me. Everything else in my life can take a hike!

…let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. (Heb 12:1-3)

It seems like I’ve read the Beattitudes a million times, but I’ve never seen the common theme like I do now. Those Jesus calls “happy” in Matthew 5 have one thing in common. They are weak. The meek, the hungry, the poor, the persecuted. They all come from a place of natural disadvantage. It might as well read, “Happy are you when you are obeying God and find yourself at a disadvantage before the world and its system.” Hmmmm, sounds like a familiar passage in Paul’s writings:

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Cor 12:9-10). 

God is challenging me with this. “If you have a choice, every chance you get and in every occasion as you follow me, choose the position of weakness; my strength is made perfect in weakness.” If you’re hesitant to step out and obey something God told you to do because it puts you in a place of weakness, take heart and check this out…

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. (Rom 8:26)

For the foolishness of God is wiser than man’s wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man’s strength. (1 Corinthians 1:25)