We warn our young people not to enter "dens of iniquity," even out of curiosity, because no one knows what evil may ensnare them there. Still more terrible, however, is the danger of going along with the crowd. In truth, there may be no other place, not even one more disgustingly dedicated to lust and vice as a strip club, where a human heart may be more easily corrupted -- than in a crowd.
Kierkegaard asserts that "Even though every individual possess the truth, when he gets together in a crowd, untruth will be present at once, for the crowd is untruth." It either produces hardheartedness and irresponsibility or weakens a person's sense of responsibility by placing it in a fractional category. Can you imagine a solitary person walking up to Christ and spitting on him? Who would have the courage or audacity to do such a thing? But as a part of a crowd, well many had both the "courage" and audacity to do it -- dreadful untruth.
Christ was crucified in large part because He would have nothing to do with the crowd [even though He did address himself to all]. He did not care to form a party, an interest group, a mass movement, but instead, wanted to be what He was, the Truth, which is related to the single individual. Therefore, everyone who will genuinely serve the truth is by that very fact a type of martyr. To win a crowd is no art; for only untruth is needed. Add in a little nonsense and some knowledge of human passions and you are good to go. But no witness to the truth dare gets involved with the crowd. Our work is to be involved with people surely, but if possible, always individually, speaking with each and everyone separately -- in order to split apart the crowd one by one. This is how the kingdom of God is built and it has always been so.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
Everyone Must Stand Alone
"Life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone.
I hear you call my name..."
and so goes the popular song by Madonna.Except that she was sadly mistaken when she finished the line with "and it feels like home."
Why is it that the vast majority of people prefer to be addressed as a part of a group rather than as a distinct individual? Could it be that conscience is one our life's greatest inconveniences, a knife that cuts just a little too deeply? Sadly being a part of a group seems to impart a goodnight to one's conscience. We cannot be a party of two or three, a Currieo Company, around our conscience. No. In fact, it is just the opposite, the only thing a group secures is the abolition of conscience.
By forming a party, a melting into some group, we avoid not only conscience but also martyrdom. This is why the fear of others [what Jesus called the fear of man] so dominates this world. Very few dare to be a genuine self; and most are hiding in some kind of "togetherness." Instead we rely on traditions and the voices of others. Too many are content to become a copy, living a life shielded against responsibility before the Truth.
Kierkegaard described true individuality as being measured by this: "how long or how far one can endure being alone without the understanding of others." The person who can endure being alone is miles apart from the man-pleaser, the one who manages to get along with everyone -- the one who possesses no sharp edges. God never uses such people. The true individual, anyone who is going to be directly used by and involved with God, will not and cannot avoid the human bite. He will be thoroughly misunderstood [and Jesus promised as much]. God is no friend of the cozy human gathering.
In the purely human world the rule seems to be: Seek out the opinion and the help of others. Yet Christ says: Beware of men! The majority of people are not only afraid of holding the wrong opinion, they are afraid of holding any opinion alone. In the physical world water extinguishes fire. So too in the spiritual world. The "many," the masses of people extinguish the inner fire of the individual -- beware of men!
According to Christ in the Sermon on the Mount, Christians are told to be both salt and light. And thus Christianity puts this question to each individual: Are you willing to be salt? Are you willing to be light? Are you willing to be sacrificed, instead of melding into the crowd, which itself seeks to profit from the sacrifice of others? Here again is the distinction: to be salt or to melt into the masses; to let others be sacrificed for us on behalf of the Truth or to let ourselves be sacrificed ... and between these two lies an eternal qualitative distinction.
The deep fault of the human race is that there are very few individuals any more. Wanting to hide in the crowd, to be a small fraction of the group rather than being an individual, is the most corrupt of all escapes. No doubt, it does make life easier, but it does so by making it thoughtless. Yet at the end of the day, it comes down to the responsibility of every single individual -- each of us is still an authentic, answerable self. It is in effect a cop-out for us to make a racket along with a group of others for a so-called conviction. We, instead, must make up our own minds about our convictions before God and then live them out regardless of the opinions of others. Eternity will single each person out as individually responsible.
Every person must render an account to God. No third person dares to intrude upon this accounting. God in heaven does not speak to us as an assembly; He speaks to us individually. This is why in particular that it is the most ruinous evasion of all to be hidden away in a herd in an attempt to escape God's personal address. It was none other than Adam who attempted to do this [when there was only one other person on the face of the earth] who tried to hide himself among the trees when his guilty conscience convicted him of his sin. Similarly, it may be easier and more convenient, and more cowardly too, to hide ourselves among the crowd in hope that God will not recognize us from the others. But in eternity each shall individually render an account. Eternity will examine each person for all that he has chosen and done as an individual before God.
It will be a great and terrible day when judgment comes and all souls come to life again, to stand utterly alone, alone and known by all, and yet candidly, exhaustively known by Him who knows all. So we might as well get used to it now. Let us forsake the cover of the crowd and become the salt and light that He has created us to be.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
The Spell of Good Intentions
There is a parable given to us by Jesus that is seldom considered but that I find very instructive and inspiring. "There was a man who had two sons. The father went to the first and said, 'Son, go and work in the vineyard today.' And he answered, 'I will not'; but afterward he changed his mind and went. And the father went to the second son and said the same and he answered, 'I will, sir,' but did not go. Which of the two did the will of his father?" [Matthew 21:28-31].
What is the point of this parable? Is it not meant to show us the danger of saying "Yes" in too great a hurry, if even it is well meant? Though the yes-brother was not a deceiver when when he said "Yes," he nevertheless became a deceiver when he failed to keep his promise. In fact, it may have even been in his very eagerness in promising that he became a deceiver. When we say "Yes" or promise something, we can very easily deceive ourselves and others also, as if we had already done what we promised. It is all too easy to think that by making a promise we have already done at least part of what we have promised ... as if the promise itself was something of value. Which, of course, it isn't! In fact, when we do not do what we have promised, it is a long way back to the truth.
We should beware. The "Yes" of promise keeping is sleep-inducing. An honest "No" possesses much more promise. It can stimulate and repentance may not be so far away. He who says "No," can become almost afraid of himself; whereas he who says "Yes, I will," is all too pleased with himself. The world seems quite inclined -- almost too eager -- to make promises, for a promise appears very fine in the moment -- it virtually inspires! And it is for this very reason the eternal is suspicious of promises.
Now suppose that neither of the brothers did his father's will. Then the one who said "No" was surely closer to realizing that he did not do his father's will. There is nothing hidden in a "no," but a "yes" can very easily become a deception, a self-deception; which of all deceptions is the most difficult to conquer. And thus this proves the old axiom, "The road to hell is paved with good intentions" to be all too true.
It is a most dangerous thing for a person to go backwards with the help of good intentions, especially with the help of promises unkept. When a person turns his back on someone and walks away, it is very easy to determine where he is going. But when a person finds himself looking at who he is walking away from, and thus is walking backwards while appearing to greet that person, give him assurances that he is, in fact, coming though getting further away at the same time, then it is not so easy to become aware. And so it is with the one who, rich in good intentions and quick to promise, retreats backwards further and further from the good. With every renewed intention and promise it seems as if he is taking a new step forward when in reality he is walking backwards.
We do not praise the son who said "No," but we need to learn from the parable just how dangerous it is to say, "Lord, I will." Far too many of us have been deceived in this manner ... almost as if we've been cast under the spell of the enemy.
What is the point of this parable? Is it not meant to show us the danger of saying "Yes" in too great a hurry, if even it is well meant? Though the yes-brother was not a deceiver when when he said "Yes," he nevertheless became a deceiver when he failed to keep his promise. In fact, it may have even been in his very eagerness in promising that he became a deceiver. When we say "Yes" or promise something, we can very easily deceive ourselves and others also, as if we had already done what we promised. It is all too easy to think that by making a promise we have already done at least part of what we have promised ... as if the promise itself was something of value. Which, of course, it isn't! In fact, when we do not do what we have promised, it is a long way back to the truth.
We should beware. The "Yes" of promise keeping is sleep-inducing. An honest "No" possesses much more promise. It can stimulate and repentance may not be so far away. He who says "No," can become almost afraid of himself; whereas he who says "Yes, I will," is all too pleased with himself. The world seems quite inclined -- almost too eager -- to make promises, for a promise appears very fine in the moment -- it virtually inspires! And it is for this very reason the eternal is suspicious of promises.
Now suppose that neither of the brothers did his father's will. Then the one who said "No" was surely closer to realizing that he did not do his father's will. There is nothing hidden in a "no," but a "yes" can very easily become a deception, a self-deception; which of all deceptions is the most difficult to conquer. And thus this proves the old axiom, "The road to hell is paved with good intentions" to be all too true.
It is a most dangerous thing for a person to go backwards with the help of good intentions, especially with the help of promises unkept. When a person turns his back on someone and walks away, it is very easy to determine where he is going. But when a person finds himself looking at who he is walking away from, and thus is walking backwards while appearing to greet that person, give him assurances that he is, in fact, coming though getting further away at the same time, then it is not so easy to become aware. And so it is with the one who, rich in good intentions and quick to promise, retreats backwards further and further from the good. With every renewed intention and promise it seems as if he is taking a new step forward when in reality he is walking backwards.
We do not praise the son who said "No," but we need to learn from the parable just how dangerous it is to say, "Lord, I will." Far too many of us have been deceived in this manner ... almost as if we've been cast under the spell of the enemy.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
The Eternal Either/Or
Choice ... the pearl of great price. Yet it is not intended to be buried and hidden away. A choice not made is worse than no choice at all ... it becomes a snare in which we trap ourselves and yet we can never be truly rid of it. It remains with us and becomes a curse if unused.
Each person must choose between God and the world ... God and mammon as the King James Version calls it. This is the eternal, unchangeable condition of choice that can never be evaded. Never in all eternity. We are not given the luxury of saying, "God and the world." This would be, in effect, to refrain from choosing and Scripture does not give us that luxury. We do so to our own destruction [Hebrews 10:39]. No one can say, "One can choose a little mammon and also God as well."
It is also presumptuous to believe that only the person who desires great wealth is the one who chooses mammon. The man who insists on having a single penny without God ... wanting that sole penny for himself ... thus chooses mammon. A single penny is enough to make the choice. To chose mammon, whether great or little, makes not the slightest difference.
Scriptures say that to love God is to hate the world and to love the world is to hate God. This, of course, is the colossal point of contention, either love or hate. And this is sadly the place where the most terrible of fights must be fought. And where is this place? In our inmost beings. Whether we struggle over millions or over a single penny, it comes down to a matter of loving and preferring God. This is a great and terrible fight for the highest place ... but what great and unmeasurable happiness is promised to the one who rightly chooses.
What is it that God really demands in this eternal either/or? He demands obedience ... unconditional obedience. He says that if we don't obey Him unconditionally, without qualification, we don't love Him. And if we don't love Him ... then we hate Him. If we are not obedient unconditionally then we are not bound to Him and if we are not bound to Him then we despise Him.
But if we can become absolutely obedient, then when we pray, "Lead us not into temptation" there will be no ambiguity in us ... we become undivided and single before God. And that is the one thing that all of Satan's cunning and all of his snares cannot take by surprise ... an undivided will. Where unclarity resides, there is temptation, and there it proves too easily the stronger. Wherever there is ambiguity, wherever there is wavering, there will inevitably be disobedience at the bottom.
But where there is no ambiguity, Satan and his temptations are powerless. But with even the slightest glimpse of wavering, Satan is strong and temptation is enticing, and keen-sighted is the evil one whose trap is called temptation and whose prey is called the human soul. Ambiguity cannot hide itself from him and when he discovers it, temptation is always at hand. But the person solely surrendered to God, without reservation, is absolutely safe.
There is a tremendous danger in which we find ourselves by virtue of our humanity ... a danger that results from the fact that we are placed between two tremendous powers. The choice is left to us. We must either love or hate, and not to love is to hate. So hostile are these two powers that the slightest inclination towards one side becomes absolute opposition to the other. Let us not forget the tremendous choice we must make. To be either duplicitous or to forget to choose is to have made our choice.
May God give each of us a truly undivided will ... one with a singular bent towards Him.
Each person must choose between God and the world ... God and mammon as the King James Version calls it. This is the eternal, unchangeable condition of choice that can never be evaded. Never in all eternity. We are not given the luxury of saying, "God and the world." This would be, in effect, to refrain from choosing and Scripture does not give us that luxury. We do so to our own destruction [Hebrews 10:39]. No one can say, "One can choose a little mammon and also God as well."
It is also presumptuous to believe that only the person who desires great wealth is the one who chooses mammon. The man who insists on having a single penny without God ... wanting that sole penny for himself ... thus chooses mammon. A single penny is enough to make the choice. To chose mammon, whether great or little, makes not the slightest difference.
Scriptures say that to love God is to hate the world and to love the world is to hate God. This, of course, is the colossal point of contention, either love or hate. And this is sadly the place where the most terrible of fights must be fought. And where is this place? In our inmost beings. Whether we struggle over millions or over a single penny, it comes down to a matter of loving and preferring God. This is a great and terrible fight for the highest place ... but what great and unmeasurable happiness is promised to the one who rightly chooses.
What is it that God really demands in this eternal either/or? He demands obedience ... unconditional obedience. He says that if we don't obey Him unconditionally, without qualification, we don't love Him. And if we don't love Him ... then we hate Him. If we are not obedient unconditionally then we are not bound to Him and if we are not bound to Him then we despise Him.
But if we can become absolutely obedient, then when we pray, "Lead us not into temptation" there will be no ambiguity in us ... we become undivided and single before God. And that is the one thing that all of Satan's cunning and all of his snares cannot take by surprise ... an undivided will. Where unclarity resides, there is temptation, and there it proves too easily the stronger. Wherever there is ambiguity, wherever there is wavering, there will inevitably be disobedience at the bottom.
But where there is no ambiguity, Satan and his temptations are powerless. But with even the slightest glimpse of wavering, Satan is strong and temptation is enticing, and keen-sighted is the evil one whose trap is called temptation and whose prey is called the human soul. Ambiguity cannot hide itself from him and when he discovers it, temptation is always at hand. But the person solely surrendered to God, without reservation, is absolutely safe.
There is a tremendous danger in which we find ourselves by virtue of our humanity ... a danger that results from the fact that we are placed between two tremendous powers. The choice is left to us. We must either love or hate, and not to love is to hate. So hostile are these two powers that the slightest inclination towards one side becomes absolute opposition to the other. Let us not forget the tremendous choice we must make. To be either duplicitous or to forget to choose is to have made our choice.
May God give each of us a truly undivided will ... one with a singular bent towards Him.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Followers v. Fans
It is well known that Christ consistently used the expression "follower." He never sought out fans, admirers, adherents or even worshippers. No, what He sought was disciples. It was not adherents to a teaching, but followers of a life that Christ was looking for.
Christ understood that being a "disciple" was the only way to respond to the things He revealed about Himself. He claimed to be the way, the truth and the life [John 14:6]. For this reason, He could never abide adherents who only accepted His teaching -- especially those who lived their lives without the application of the principles He taught. He lived His entire life on earth, from beginning to end, in such a way as to make being an "admirer" impossible but, instead, to demand followership.
Christ came into the world with the purpose of saving it rather than instructing it. At the same time -- as is implied by His saving work -- He came to be the pattern, to leave footprints for us to follow should we decide to join Him. This is why Christ was born and died in lowliness. It would be absolutely impossible for any of us to describe the life He lived as having inherent worldly advantages for those who are called and choose to follow it. In that sense, to "admire Christ" has become the false invention of a later age, aided by its inherent presumption of "loftiness." He never really gave us that choice and if He had there was absolutely nothing intrinsic to admire in Christ, unless we would want to admire poverty, misery and the contempt of His peers.
So what then, is the difference between a fan [admirer] and a follower [disciple]? A follower is or strives to be what he admires. An admirer [fan], however, keeps himself personally detached. He fails to see that what is admired involves a claim on him, and thus he fails to be or strive to be what he admires.
To want to admire instead of follow Christ is not necessarily an invention by bad people. No, it is more an invention by those who spinelessly keep themselves detached, who keep themselves at a safe distance. Admirers are related to the admired only through the excitement of the imagination. To them he is like an actor on the stage except that, this being real life, the effect he produces is somewhat stronger. But for their part, admirers make the same demands that are made in the theater or the ballpark: to sit safe, still and calm. Admirers are only all too willing to serve Christ so long as proper caution is exercised, lest one personally come in contact with danger. As such, they refuse to accept that Christ's life is a demand on theirs. In actuality, they are offended by Him. His radical, bizarre character so offends them that when they honestly see Christ for who He is, they are no longer able to experience the comfort and tranquility they so desire. They know all too well that to associate with Christ to closely holds their own lives up for examination. And while He may say nothing directly against them, they know that His life tacitly judges theirs.
And it is indeed true that Christ's life makes it terrifyingly manifest just what a dreadful untruth it is to admire the truth instead of following it. And when there is no danger or cost apparent to our Christianity, it is all to easy to confuse an admirer with a follower. In fact, the admirer can suffer the delusion that the position he takes is the true one, when in reality all he is doing is playing it safe. We must always give heed to the call of discipleship.
To those who know the story of Christ's life there is no doubt that Judas Iscariot was an admirer of Christ. And we know that from the beginning of Christ's ministry that He had many admirers/fans. So how did this admirer become a traitor in a mere three years time? But really, isn't that the way of the admirer? The fairweather fan? Those who only admire the truth, will, when danger appears, often betray the one they admire. The admirer is infatuated with the false security of greatness; but if/when there is any inconvenience or trouble, he will typically pull back. Admiring the truth, instead of following it, is just as dubious as the fire of erotic love, which at the turn of the hand can be changed into exactly the opposite, to hate, jealously and revenge.
Consider the story of another admirer in the gospels -- Nicodemus [John 3]. Unwilling to risk his reputation, he came to Jesus under the cover of night. So far as we know he never became a follower but he definitely was an admirer. It was as if he had said to Christ, "If we are able to reach a compromise, you and me, then I will accept your teaching in eternity. But here in this world, no, that I cannot bring myself to do. Could you not make an exception for me? Could it not be enough if once in a while, at great risk to myself, I come to you during the night; but during the day continue to act as if I do not know you. You must realize how humiliating it is for me and how disgraceful, and even insulting this is toward you." Certainly the webs woven by the admirer can be awkward and unseemly.
Nicodemus, I have not doubt, was likely well-meaning. I am also sure that he was tantalized by the truths of Christ's teaching. But is it not true that the more strongly someone identifies with the words of another while his life remains unchanged, the more he is only making a fool of himself? Suppose Christ had permitted a less costly version of being a follower or disciple -- suppose He allowed an admirer who swore on all that is high and holy that he is convinced -- then Nicodemus might have very well have been accepted. But he was not!
Nevertheless, the difference between the fan and follower still remains, no matter who or where we are. The admirer never makes any true sacrifices. He always plays it safe. Though in words, speech or even singing he may be inexhaustible in how he prizes Christ, nevertheless, he renounces nothing, he gives up nothing, he will not reorient his life, he will not become what he admires [this is often true in sports as well, as the life of the fan takes far less dedication than the life of the athlete that he supposedly "idolizes"]. Not so for the follower/disciple. No. The follower aspires with all his strength, will all his will, with all his might to become what he admires. And then remarkably enough, even if he is living among a "Christian people," the same danger lies for him as was once the case when it was dangerous to openly confess Christ. And as a result of the follower's life, it becomes evident just who the admirers are as well, and as a result the admirers will rise up against him. It will be as Christ promised us, "If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own" [John 15:18, 19].
Christ understood that being a "disciple" was the only way to respond to the things He revealed about Himself. He claimed to be the way, the truth and the life [John 14:6]. For this reason, He could never abide adherents who only accepted His teaching -- especially those who lived their lives without the application of the principles He taught. He lived His entire life on earth, from beginning to end, in such a way as to make being an "admirer" impossible but, instead, to demand followership.
Christ came into the world with the purpose of saving it rather than instructing it. At the same time -- as is implied by His saving work -- He came to be the pattern, to leave footprints for us to follow should we decide to join Him. This is why Christ was born and died in lowliness. It would be absolutely impossible for any of us to describe the life He lived as having inherent worldly advantages for those who are called and choose to follow it. In that sense, to "admire Christ" has become the false invention of a later age, aided by its inherent presumption of "loftiness." He never really gave us that choice and if He had there was absolutely nothing intrinsic to admire in Christ, unless we would want to admire poverty, misery and the contempt of His peers.
So what then, is the difference between a fan [admirer] and a follower [disciple]? A follower is or strives to be what he admires. An admirer [fan], however, keeps himself personally detached. He fails to see that what is admired involves a claim on him, and thus he fails to be or strive to be what he admires.
To want to admire instead of follow Christ is not necessarily an invention by bad people. No, it is more an invention by those who spinelessly keep themselves detached, who keep themselves at a safe distance. Admirers are related to the admired only through the excitement of the imagination. To them he is like an actor on the stage except that, this being real life, the effect he produces is somewhat stronger. But for their part, admirers make the same demands that are made in the theater or the ballpark: to sit safe, still and calm. Admirers are only all too willing to serve Christ so long as proper caution is exercised, lest one personally come in contact with danger. As such, they refuse to accept that Christ's life is a demand on theirs. In actuality, they are offended by Him. His radical, bizarre character so offends them that when they honestly see Christ for who He is, they are no longer able to experience the comfort and tranquility they so desire. They know all too well that to associate with Christ to closely holds their own lives up for examination. And while He may say nothing directly against them, they know that His life tacitly judges theirs.
And it is indeed true that Christ's life makes it terrifyingly manifest just what a dreadful untruth it is to admire the truth instead of following it. And when there is no danger or cost apparent to our Christianity, it is all to easy to confuse an admirer with a follower. In fact, the admirer can suffer the delusion that the position he takes is the true one, when in reality all he is doing is playing it safe. We must always give heed to the call of discipleship.
To those who know the story of Christ's life there is no doubt that Judas Iscariot was an admirer of Christ. And we know that from the beginning of Christ's ministry that He had many admirers/fans. So how did this admirer become a traitor in a mere three years time? But really, isn't that the way of the admirer? The fairweather fan? Those who only admire the truth, will, when danger appears, often betray the one they admire. The admirer is infatuated with the false security of greatness; but if/when there is any inconvenience or trouble, he will typically pull back. Admiring the truth, instead of following it, is just as dubious as the fire of erotic love, which at the turn of the hand can be changed into exactly the opposite, to hate, jealously and revenge.
Consider the story of another admirer in the gospels -- Nicodemus [John 3]. Unwilling to risk his reputation, he came to Jesus under the cover of night. So far as we know he never became a follower but he definitely was an admirer. It was as if he had said to Christ, "If we are able to reach a compromise, you and me, then I will accept your teaching in eternity. But here in this world, no, that I cannot bring myself to do. Could you not make an exception for me? Could it not be enough if once in a while, at great risk to myself, I come to you during the night; but during the day continue to act as if I do not know you. You must realize how humiliating it is for me and how disgraceful, and even insulting this is toward you." Certainly the webs woven by the admirer can be awkward and unseemly.
Nicodemus, I have not doubt, was likely well-meaning. I am also sure that he was tantalized by the truths of Christ's teaching. But is it not true that the more strongly someone identifies with the words of another while his life remains unchanged, the more he is only making a fool of himself? Suppose Christ had permitted a less costly version of being a follower or disciple -- suppose He allowed an admirer who swore on all that is high and holy that he is convinced -- then Nicodemus might have very well have been accepted. But he was not!
Nevertheless, the difference between the fan and follower still remains, no matter who or where we are. The admirer never makes any true sacrifices. He always plays it safe. Though in words, speech or even singing he may be inexhaustible in how he prizes Christ, nevertheless, he renounces nothing, he gives up nothing, he will not reorient his life, he will not become what he admires [this is often true in sports as well, as the life of the fan takes far less dedication than the life of the athlete that he supposedly "idolizes"]. Not so for the follower/disciple. No. The follower aspires with all his strength, will all his will, with all his might to become what he admires. And then remarkably enough, even if he is living among a "Christian people," the same danger lies for him as was once the case when it was dangerous to openly confess Christ. And as a result of the follower's life, it becomes evident just who the admirers are as well, and as a result the admirers will rise up against him. It will be as Christ promised us, "If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own" [John 15:18, 19].
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