Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life and attend to your own business and work with your hands. (1 Thessalonians 4:11-12)
Because we share a divine origin and are now joined together in Christ, our stories are essential to each other. Your story will hold light and encouragement for me and I pray that mine will do the same for you. Telling our stories is important in learning how God’s creative and redemptive love plays out amidst our impure motives and messy lives.
I mentioned on Thursday that 1 Thessalonians 4:11-12 was one of three passages I had claimed for myself as a young Christian. Based on what I thought of myself at the age of 23, which was not much, I just knew these verses were for me. Another verse was from Psalm 131;
I do not involve myself in great matters, or in things too difficult for me.
If you read Thursday’s installment you know my motives in the selection of these verses were tainted. Since I was a young teen I had been in flight, distancing myself from anything that might cause me pain. One of the big things I was fleeing was our family’s business which I had come to associate with the undesirable aspect of complexity. Another was the company’s president (my Dad) who represented the intolerable pain of rejection. Complexity is not too inviting if you have come to believe your intellect and social skills are substandard and rejection cannot be tolerated if you are already hyper-sensitized to it.
There was still another layer to my mess – it had to do with the stigma of wealth. As a young kid I started picking up on the attitudes my classmates had toward those who ‘came from money’ as they would say. I didn’t at all like what I was hearing about golden spoons and where they should be stored. I did everything I knew to hide my social status but in my small town it was futile. Hiding seemed innocent enough in grade school but it became neurotic in junior high and high school. I dreaded every social situation where this attitude might be lurking. Fear had driven me to the point of being nearly invisible. Alcohol, and eventually drugs, became my refuge. However, while numbing my short-term pain, chemicals were compounding it for the long term.
After the better part of a decade of mixing alcohol and drugs with the already toxic things inside me, I had exhausted all hope of a future. At 23 I was utterly lost and suffice it to say – free falling into darkness. Enter Jesus. He made nothing less than a dramatic entrance into my life, immediately setting this prodigal free from a bunch of nasty stuff and introducing him, for the first time, to love, hope, peace and joy. It was a pure miracle! Frogs do become princes! My old mission which had been raising hell had now become – how to sustain this new place of safety. Better yet, how can I expand (or exploit) it?” The question before me was simple “What do I need to do?”
Some of the believers I threw-in with and many of the authors I began reading believed the narrow path we were now traveling must be paved with self-imposed austerity. Following their lead, I began, unknowingly, blending religion (compliance to external and internal standards) with my already contaminated, wound-driven motives. I developed the conviction that monetary success would damn my soul. Therefore to sustain my new sense of well being, I must flee wealth before it sunk its talons in me.
I was confusing my insecurity and inferiority with brokenness – a much desired spiritual attribute. Embracing brokenness was how I could honor my depravity – the inappropriate center piece of my theology. Most of the preaching I had listened to reinforced the notion that I was, in my essential identity, a monster of iniquity – a sinful creature with irreversible, prideful motives. This type of person would be woefully incapable of managing prosperity should it come knocking. So, the plan that formed in the dimly lit space of my heart was to flee from this temptation, work with my hands, insure a lower middle class wage and work exceedingly hard (which was the religion of my father’s family). While it was really about avoiding pain, my tortured reasoning was as follows; if I perform well, I will please God and consequently sustain (and improve?) my relationship with him. However, one question I kept conveniently at bay was; “Just how poor does one have to be to please God?” Or stated differently, “At what point of financial success would one become displeasing to God?”
I would have crawled on glass for the balance of my days to avoid going back to the the hell my life had become before Christ. Even though it was driven by an illogical fear (how can one earn what has been a gift?), I’m glad the Lord taught me to pray; “Search and try my heart and expose wrong motives.” Over time, I believe God answered this prayer. Through his kindness and mercy I would eventually learn the difference between fear driven flight into religion and an appropriate response to God’s love.
Not that he needs it, but our relationships wth God work best if he superintends our hearts -having been invited to do so. Overcoming my inner-vows and wrong-hearted motives represents one of his greater victories in me. It has been no small thing for him to undo the strongholds that bound me to religion. How astounding God is – that while I was bent on acquiring his favor with my labors, he was leading me toward green and well-watered pasture where I would ultimately find myself resting in His arms. Carnal sin was the yoke that Jesus delivered this young prodigal from at 23. Religion was the even heavier yoke he rescued this elder brother from at 57. I am stunned by his kindness. (By all means read Tim Keller’s book, The Prodigal God. It’s a treasure.)
I believe works driven–religion is at least as binding a yoke as raw debauchery. It looks so impressive with all its labor and accumulated doings. Inherit within the religious-spirit is the deception that the doings have earned a credit balance with God while in fact the opposite is true. The doings within religion create a false-salve to the conscience of wounded and insecure hearts. Religious darkness is greater because the religious do not know they are lost while most carnal sinners are keenly aware of it.
Our journey is all about discovering who we are in Christ and resting in him alone; its is about becoming the beings he originally created in his image. By his grace we shall learn that our efforts to do anything to create or to preserve relationship with God are backward steps. Laboring to earn a gift will undermine our enjoyment of it. Religious doing undermines relational being. Whatever doings God requires of us must ultimately flow from hearts at rest in Christ.
Father, Help us to see where we have undermined Your grace through our entanglement with religion. Heal our hearts that we might truly enjoy You. Expose religion for what it is – a demonic ploy to distort our image of ourselves, others and You. May You continue Your editing of our stories. All to Your glory. Amen.