The Self-Sent Judas

We are in a deadly -- yet needless -- competition with the world to prove ourselves. The lust of vindication weighs heavy on the Church's soul to justify its position in the market of the world: to prove itself relevant, contemporary and compassionate. It shouts with the other clammering voices to show how astute we are; we yearn to be listened to, to be taken seriously by the world, to be noted by the world's media. But we are playing their game by their rules and we sink in self-degradation, for the Church -- the vessel and ark of God's promises -- has abandoned the ground for which her Saviour bled and died. We have descended into the fray, into the midst of the battle because we have focussed on men and their needs -- not our Lord. Rather, we should have stayed on the mountain top with our arms outstretched to the Lord, until he had given victory. But we have looked down from the mountain and, moved by the sight of our brothers falling in battle, we have been pulled by an empathy and emotion little better than human sentiment from our ground into the valley. We call this 'love'. It is the disobedience of a deserter.

We have centred on the seen need rather than the unseen Lord of the Harvest. It is easier to look at a physical need, meet it and move on rather than look into the sick dark souls of men, including our own.

We have sent ourselves because we felt vindicated at last by a blanket divine diktat: "Go!" We have run ahead and fallen headlong into a trap. We do not Go! because we or God love the world. We do not Go! out of utilitarian necessity: they need Jesus! We do not Go! out of emotion or empathy or tears. We Go! because we are sent by divine commission, by the Sovereign authority and will of Jesus Himself. There is no other reason that compels us. It is in His name that we go - not ours!

"Stay in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high." (Luke 24:49)

But we have not stayed in the courts of the Lord on the temple mount. We were told what to do; Jesus told us! We have not waited for the Holy Spirit to fill us. But Jesus breathed the Spirit upon us! We have left the city. Jesus sent us; who can stop us? Wait! I know how to do this! I've seen Jesus do it before. WAIT!

We have left the city before Pentecost; we did not stay and abide in the temple. So taken with our cause we have forgotten the reason for the cause and the first cause Himself. We should have waited in the city; we should have met and prayed daily in the courts; we should have pondered the life and death and the resurrection; we should have allowed His Spirit to put together the complete jigsaw of Christ from the Law of Moses to the Psalms and the Prophets; we should have waited until we saw Him who is risen, until we saw Him -- for who He is -- in all His wholeness and perfection and completeness; we should have waited until we got Him, until we got it, until we understood, until we grasped Him, until we had been clothed with Him from on high.

The power for going cannot be separated from Him who sends, and Him who sends cannot be separated from Him who died and rose. We do not go to finish a work for God, as if there is anything we can add! But we go because it is finished. Until we get the perfection of His work, we will always seek to complete something that is completed already, for we have an inferior view of Jesus' work upon the Cross. We cannot leave until we are completed, untilt here is Shalom: no work is perfected until it comes out of the Rest of God. But we are taken with ourselves and the self-importance of our role, that it is an emergency! They need us now. Jesus waited days before raising Lazarus; we would not have waited. We are taken with our trip and our destination and what we will DO when we get there. God is on our side. Our authority, our commissioning, our cause. God does not need us, Jesus has done All. Nothing more need be done apart from obedience.

But we have absconded too early on an errand we thought the Lord had given us . . . just like Judas (John 13:27). We want to do it quickly, in our time. But ultimately we betray Him. We convince ourselves it is God's will: the errand is even performed in front of the whole church, and the apostles look on; the contract is completed in the Temple before the High Priest. We thought we had a cunning way. We thought our way right, but we left before the supper, before the bread was broken and the wine shared. We left to do what we thought was right. We came to Gethsemane too late and from the wrong direction.

Every refusal to wait is a betrayal.

Of Dreams and Log Jams Part 1

Last night I dreamed; I have been dreaming a lot recently. A friend once said to me that a person only dreamed when they weren't listening to God - when God couldn't get their attention. The implied criticism at the time was that I wasn't listening to God. It may well have been true, but I think my friend was simply stating that they didn't dream and they listened to God and He spoke to them clearly.

I have always dreamed, big swirling epics and little flashes. It occurs most often when I'm deep in thought and mulling things over, when something concerns me, when I search or yearn for something, when there are rocks in my heart and I hate myself for something, when something is frustrated and the life of God does not flow easily, when peace has seeped away, when I doubt, when I am in disobedience, when I have neglected prayer, when a burden will not let me go. Somewhere there is a log jam and something has to come out, otherwise I'll go mad.

The conclusion being: when I dream something is wrong, in me or somewhere else. If God isn't digging up the rocks in our heart, what is He doing? Do we assume to be so prigishly perfect that this will never happen? We must keep up our facade of being 'spiritual' and holy. Sometimes a hard questioning cynicism(distrustful of the presented virtue of yourself and/or others) is the only cracker that will crack the nut of prudish religiosity, to provoke what is truely inside.

If we are on a even keel then the waters haven't risen yet; we are still in dock. The door of the ark may be shut and we may be sealed in pitch but we await the deluge. We cannot see what is happening let alone understand it. We can only hear it when it starts to fall. Will the seal hold? It starts with a slight movement, then a jolt and a judder, a bob. We are afloat in a waterproof nave being taken by God through the difficulties of life - not taken out of but through - with walls of gravity-defying water hanging beside us. Nevertheless, we must look at the pillar of fire, not at what surrounds us.

Beware of harsh metallic faith, like Paraoah's chariots, that reduces life with God to a succinct dismissive rule - when it rests upon a person. Flee from them. They cut you open like a surgeon, gutting you like a fish while they themselves remain immutable and untouchable. A rough ride awaits you upon the good ship 'Ark' rather than upon the smooth chariots as a captive. Beware of smoothness, ease, convenience, routine that lulls, inward neatness and tidiness. Nothing will remain the same while the ark bucks and tosses through the waves.

"It is dangerous to get into a settled state of experience. It is preparation and preparation."

Oswald Chambers.

So dreaming occurs when everything is in flux, when something that means everything has been tossed into the air . The music starts again and we are up and running, not knowing where to go, only knowing we MUST go and go now. Respond now lest our hearts congeal and become hard. Dreaming is God's kneading of the heart before the oven, it is his pressure and hands upon you in an unseen way, getting your attention, especially when you think deeply. The heel of his hand rolls into you again and again, flattening and moulding, spinning and throwing into the air: His - not to play with but - to do with as He pleases. Dreaming comes when there are phases of resistance to this. His fingers press in. Respond to Him now before He sends circumstances to shape you, respond in the small and mundane; be faithful in the little. The perplexity of that dream will nag and annoy, it is meant to be inscrutable until your heart keeps pace with it and then it unfolds (or evaporates into nothing as it was born of the worry of your soul). It forces you back to God knowing He is the holder of yours secrets. You have been trained by the sheepdogs of God's dreams, hounding you into submission; He tracks you down and corners you into a decisive moment in time and the decision is not left or right but it is down: down and submit, yield!

He MAKES me to lie down in green pastures!

Then the peace will come.