Faith, Love, & The Trick Of Feeling

           Constantly falling short, but always redeemed.  Regularly crossing lines, but always pardoned.  Once on a path bound for death, promised the road to life.  Why a Christ follower worries and struggles at all is evidence of the way of humanity.  Should a person who has found the source of hope beyond imagination not be overflowing with feelings of affection and joy, holding forever strong in the world of the weak?  What a restless question.  For some time I felt physically restrained by it in this month that I have not written anything.  Thus, I did what merits a promised answer from God, and cried out to him – his track record in delivering on promises is pretty good after all (Psalm 34:17). 

Some of those who have an existing relationship with the most important figure in human history – Jesus Christ, the only one through which salvation for any of us can be attained – are burdened with what they believe to be a lack of consistent passion and love for a sovereign Lord.  For some time this has been a recurring observation, not only in my brothers and sisters, but also in myself. 

            What could be wrong with us, the seemingly select few who are isolated in lack of feeling?  Could it be that we do not actually love the Lord in whom we claim to believe?  Mulling over this thought further sickens a troubled believer, stirring up anxiety that compels us to try with the very depths of our being to physically conjure up some type of love for our God.  This is a vain pursuit we disturbingly find, and we can’t help but feel dirty, distant, and doomed by absence of affection.

            Quickly do Christians forget in human naivety that there is always hope.  Surely God understands and has factored in this rare difficulty that has befallen some of his children!  Let me rid the air of any mystery – he knows.  In fact, he knows that a human being physically manufacturing affection for God and righteousness on his own power is as farfetched an endeavor as man’s attempt at his own salvation.  And here unravels another part of the mystery: this problem isn’t a rarity, but a commonality.

             The fault is always with us.  Playing the blame game is never advisable – as much as God has been the target of attempted blame, the actual fault has never been his.  After all, between God and us, we are the only party capable of misinterpreting and confusing truth.  And in the present case, we have misinterpreted an aspect of faith and love for God.

           

As frequent as the sun rises, our feelings can deceive us.  They can convince us that our faith rides on our feelings to the point that we are sitting, worrying about whether we love God or not.  Faith is not feeling – if it hinged on something as sporadic and inconsistent as human emotion, we would be quite short of hope.  When Jesus says, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind,” He is talking about a love much more meaningful than mere feelings (Matthew 22:37 NIV). 

            C.S. Lewis’ designates love for God and others as an affair of the will in Mere Christianity. 

            “Love, in the Christian sense, does not mean an emotion.” Lewis explains, “It is a state not of the feelings but of the will; that state of the will which we have naturally about ourselves, and must learn to have about other people.”  He goes on to highlight the difference between Christian love and liking or affection, explaining that the way to love God and others like Christians believe they ought, is not to try and construct these feelings on their own.  If we have the desire to love God, we should try to live like we do instead of fearing that we lack this love. 

            “Nobody can always have devout feelings: and even if we could, feelings are not what God principally cares about…” Lewis says, “…If we are trying to do his will we are obeying the commandment, ‘Thou shalt love the Lord thy God.’  He will give us feelings of love if he pleases” (p. 109-111).

Times in which we have these feelings of love are heavenly gifts, but the frequency of them is never something we should base our spiritual well being upon, unless we want to associate our “current status with God” with rollercoaster-like ups and downs.  Believing that we are less of a Christian to struggle with conjuring up feeling for the gospel is to believe a lie from hell.  The greatest commandment in scripture cannot and will not hinge on something as flaky as human emotion, a regular in fluctuating between blossoming affection and disappointing lack thereof.

1 Corinthians 13:4-7 says, “Love is patient, love is kind.  It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres” (NIV). 

Love does a lot of things.  Notice, however, that “feels” isn’t listed before any of them.  It seems then, that love, for us, involves chasing after all of these things even when we don’t FEEL like chasing after them.  If a man other than Jesus himself claims that he feels like doing all of these things unconditionally, he is lying.                   

It is not upon our feelings that God wishes us to focus anyway, but instead on his love for us that is unending and without condition, as well as his grace that covers all that we lack.  If all of this were about feelings, there would be no hope for man.  If we are not particularly motivated, feeling indifferent and distant, but we fight this part of our nature because we want to love God, serve him, and see his will done, we are obeying what he calls us to in scripture.  To see faith and love for what they are, we must know that “the heart is deceitful above all things,” (Jeremiah 17:9 NIV) sometimes telling us that faith and love are feelings and discouraging us if we lack the proper emotions. 

If faith were feeling, salvation would be by grace through feeling as well.  Praise God it’s not, or I’d be doomed by tomorrow – Monday morning can be hard on the feelings.

Grace & Peace,

J. S. Wade  

    

The Warring Sides Of Freedom & The Self

            The human soul longs for freedom.  It is, however, the nature of those who long and the confusion of what freedom really is that keeps us from it.  Becoming a follower of Jesus is freedom in definition, unlocking the manacles of sin and releasing the binds of fear, anxiety, anger, bitterness, and all things broken.  It is this we often forget when our nature bid us return to a state of self-reliance and selfish pride, and we comply in attempting to reapply the broken shackles that once bound us.  This makes us miserable.  In our flawed thinking we make the realization difficult that an attempted hybrid of freedom and self cannot exist – they are warring sides.  One is eternally in place while the other is disintegrating vanity.  

            I will be the first to attest to eating from the table of disintegrating vanity while claiming the perpetually existent table of freedom for my own – actual dining calls for variety in tastes and choice, but attempting to mix and match from the aforementioned tables is a vain pursuit.  Like water and oil, my fear of rejection and failure cannot mix with freedom; no matter the time spent shaking a bottle containing them both, the two will separate upon my surrender.  As a follower of Jesus Christ, the times I have been most miserable were when I held, in my cold grip, a crutch of myself.  An effort impossible in nature, I have tried living in peace while refusing to let go of something that couldn’t possibly foster any step in Christ’s direction. 

He, who knows the way of man greater than ourselves, says, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” – Matthew 11:28-30 (NIV).

Here Jesus teaches the precise means for relieving the soul of its longing – coming to Him.  It is as if we, His followers, forget that salvation is unconditional, and that we have some valid reason to hold on to burdens only birthed from the flesh-concerned self.  Christ has claimed our very souls, yet we attempt to keep from Him that which was once part of our slavery.  Think of a slave, once released from an oppressive, destructive master.  His broken chains serve him no purpose, continuing to drag them around only reminds him of the past and makes him forget where he is now.     

            Paul teaches in 1 Corinthians 7:22, "For he who was called in the Lord as a slave is a freedman of the Lord.  Likewise he who was free when called is a slave of Christ" (ESV).  It appears then - paradoxically - that even in freedom, man is serving.  Paul is right - we are always serving something, and it is what we are in service to that bears the difference between death and life.  In becoming a freed people, we leave the chains of human nature behind and sell ourselves in slavery to something else entirely – a Rescuer so glorious, teeming with grace and mercy, that eternal bondage to Him can only be the single and greatest meaning of what it is to be free.


Grace & Peace,


J. S. Wade

                                       

The King & His Welcoming Party

            The King is returning.  Routine and the fleeting work like heavy mist upon the earth, concealing what is beyond and big.  The infinitesimal has grown vast in deceived minds, prompting our fixation with personal goals that sway on crumbling foundation.  As stable as ashes in wind are human agendas, where a mirror’s view holds the height of complexity and importance.  All the while the King’s return is coming, its time not hinging upon the current state of human priority.

            The Christian’s state of mind is often snared in this foothold of personal agenda, by means of our own image among fellow believers.  Our ongoing toil to be considered “godly” by a believing home base becomes addictive upon success, but counterproductive – it bears no difference to a non-believing preoccupation with fleeting goals inconsiderate to God.  Such a philosophy is self-promoting, one belonging to the world of the dying away.  Building on a stock of memorized scripture and kind deeds does no good for a heart seeking glory for itself.  All the while the King’s return is coming, its time not hinging upon whether we are lifted to the pedestal of our peers. 

           

          

“Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect” – Matthew 24:44 (ESV). 

          “And now, little children, abide in him, so that when he appears we may have confidence and not shrink from him in shame at his coming” – 1 John 2:28 (ESV).

            A social gathering of great magnitude knows its importance only from what has been done to carry it out, and from the number of people in knowledge of its approaching.  What has been done to carry out Christ’s return is the sacrifice of His life in the place of sinners, His resurrection, and ascension; but, dissimilar to social gatherings is the reality that many carry on unprepared for His return, and it doesn’t delay His coming.  The postponement of social gatherings on grounds of being ill prepared or lack of attendance is commonplace, but the King’s return knows no postponement or eligible excuse for the unready.

            Any entranced with the world of the dying away will be exposed as ash beneath the light of the returning King, hearts choked by restraints of the fleeting will be revealed.  Until the day, then, through Him may we rejoice where there is sorrow, forgive where there is bitterness, impart peace where there is restlessness, give where there is greed, comfort where there is fear, and love where there is hatred.  The King’s return is coming; let us be found at His feet already.  It does not hinge on whether we are awake or asleep.

Grace & Peace,

J. S. Wade

             

Truth & Lies Of Being Comfortable

            Comfort is warm.  Fear’s grip is loosened and all appears right with God and people.  The world isn’t as dangerous and the Lord is who He says He is.  Though, just as well, all seems right to a man who has just enjoyed a meal, not knowing he has been poisoned.  In itself comfort is a heavenly gift, but is stained by the human condition, corrupted into an addictive, binding, and inhibitory substance.

            In the hands of Christ, comfort gives life and strengthens heart in trouble and suffering.  Explained distinctly in the fourth verse of the 23^rd Psalm, among more well-known passages of scripture, it says, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me” (ESV). 

Most good things, however, when taken into our own human hands, are tainted – we worship that which is unworthy of praise, and make gods for ourselves out of things that cannot save us.  The real truth of comfort in God strengthens us despite the fact that we are enduring “uncomfortable” times, but the worship of comfort attempts to confine Him to personal agenda. 

A personal agenda of comfort calls for the minor induction of anxiety as an unnecessary experience, and any lack of affirmation as unwelcome.  Whether or not we are “feeling it” is the unwavering, stone-set, judge of worthy opportunities; it rejects mustard seed upon mustard seed merely because planting them requires a step outside the realm of self-pampering.  Incidentally, comfort made a fool out of me – years ago I was told a lie that I would be happy in my own faith, in my own life, and in my own comfort.  In time, buying into it uncovered misery – a fear of being uncomfortable had formed inside of me, a poison for the soul that desires to live for God.

In John 16:33, Jesus promises that being uncomfortable is an experience we will face: “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace.  In this world you will have trouble.  But take heart!  I have overcome the world” (NIV).

Hiding from being uncomfortable, therefore, is not comfort.  It is a lie from which nothing of meaning is gained; a parasite that feeds on a believer’s effectiveness.  True comfort is never known without trouble, distress, or suffering – through the example of the cross, this is clear.

Grace & Peace,

J. S. Wade