There’s Help, Thankfully!

It happens. I mentioned in a prior post (“And Then I Drift Off”) that in spite of my best intentions and desires, I can end up getting distracted, loosing focus, drifting from praying to . . . well, to just saying a few words and then off and on to something else.

Throughout the Scriptures, the friends of God are encouraged to talk with him. We are invited into intimate, vital communication with the living God. And although I have heard the invitation, I don’t always live into it well.

Paul writes to the Colossians: “Devote yourselves to prayer, keeping alert in it with an attitude of thanksgiving” (Colossians 4:2). I’d like to live that way–devoted to prayer, keeping alert rather than ending up drifting away. And in this exhortation, Paul provides a hint to growing in faithfulness in prayer–”with an attitude of thanksgiving.”

In his letter to the Philippians, Paul also writes about prayer in general and couples it with thanksgiving: “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God” (Philippians 4:6). In that passage, Paul uses a few different words that refer to prayer. “Prayer” is the generic word for communication with God; “supplication” has to do with appealing to God for the needs of others; “requests” is a word that speaks of asking God for specific things. And then there is “thanksgiving.” That word refers to . . . giving thanks!

When I reflect on these two passages (Colossians 4:2 and Philippians 4:6), I notice the prominence that Paul places on thanksgiving–and I realize that it just may be that thanksgiving is not nearly as significant a part of my prayer life as it could be, as it should be.

Maybe my drifting–my lack of alertness–is tied to my diminished commitment to giving thanks. As I rehearse before God what I want, my list of things to talk with God about is limited by what I can think, recall, envision. But if I began to talk with God–with thanks–about his goodness, his mercies, his blessings, his grace, then my mind and heart will be captured by all that he is and all that he does.

Perhaps attentiveness to the goodness of our God and the riches of grace that come through Jesus and the kindness of the Spirit in transforming our lives would open up my soul to greater thanksgiving . . . and be the fertile ground for a richer and more “alert” life of prayer.

 

Raising the Treasure Value

What is life with Jesus supposed to be like, for those of us who live on planet earth when Jesus is no longer physically present? I think Peter would say it is to be a life characterized by joy.

In his first epistle, Peter writes to those who have been scattered because of persecution, who are struggling to endure in the midst of hardship, and who are not living in the physical presence of Jesus. What he says about these followers of Jesus is provocative.

Though you have not seen Him, you love Him, and though you do not see Him now, but believe in Him, you greatly rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory, (1 Peter 1:8)

That they “have not seen [Jesus]” probably means that he is writing to followers of Jesus who never had the opportunity to meet him when he was walking the earth in the days of the incarnation–just like us. That they do not “see him now” underscores the reality that he is not physically present on the earth in a way that would allow them to see Jesus with their physical eyes–just like us. That they “believe in him” is more than their affirmation of the truths about Jesus, but really is an indication of their dependent and abiding relationship with Jesus (although he is not physically present in a manifest way)–just like us. And the outcome of this kind of living is “joy inexpressible and full of glory”–a joy that is so real and overwhelming and gripping that it is almost impossible to find words to express it. And, sadly, that is not just like us a lot of the time.

The pursuit of joy in Jesus is not, primarily, to make joy mine but to experience through believing in the glory and “treasurefulness” of Jesus and having Jesus as that great treasure of life, to taste real joy. Joy is the measure of our treasure; we delight most in what we value most. To cultivate a “joy inexpressible and fully of glory” in our own souls comes through the cultivation of Jesus’ “treasurefulness.”

In seeking to raise Jesus’ treasure value in our eyes, we are not making Jesus more glorious or amazing or wonderful. Like a telescope that brings the distant stars into view, helping us see the breathtaking glory of those celestial objects, contemplation of the glories of Jesus brings into view what is already and always true. The telescope does not take something that is small and insignificant and unimpressive and transforms it into something that is brilliant and impressive. We are captured by what we see when we can see it. So it is in contemplating the glories of Jesus.

In a previous post I reflected on some initial things that seem to help me raise Jesus’ treasure value in my eyes. Not suggesting that I have all this figured out, there do seem to be a few more things that help me see Jesus for all that he is. Let me offer one more suggestion.

I realize that I have to purposefully think “Gospel thoughts” rather than merely rehearse my own thinking. In the midst of the trials and turmoil of life, I can easily slip into “thinking things through” without turning much attention to the Gospel–that good news of what God has done for us in and through Jesus.

In Colossians 2:2-9, Paul encourages the Colossians in their life with Jesus by affirming that “in [Jesus] are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.” He explains that he is pointing this out to them so that “no one will delude you with persuasive argument.” They are to remain in Christ Jesus, seeing as he is the root of their lives. And he cautions them about mere human thinking that will lead them astray. He encourages them to be anchored in thinking about life  ”according to Jesus Christ” for in Jesus “all the fullness of Deity dwells in bodily form, and in Him you have been made complete.”

Paul wants his readers–and us–to recognize that all thinking about life, all living out life, that doesn’t have Jesus at the center, that doesn’t look at life through a Jesus lens, that fails to take in account all that Jesus is and all that he has done for us can and will lead us astray. Jesus is the root of life, Jesus is the fountain of all wisdom and understanding, Jesus is the very embodiment of deity, and in Jesus–in relationship to him–we are made complete.

It sounds simple, but I find I slip away from this. To continue to raise Jesus’ treasure value in my eyes and find my heart running after him as my great treasure, I simply have to keep before me the truth–the truth of who he is, the truth of what he has done, the truth of what he is like, the truth of what he is up to.

Not Living for an Illusion

Last night I saw a production of The Elephant Man, a play written by Bernard Pomerance. I was somewhat familiar with the life story of John Merrick, the “Elephant Man,” having read a biography on him as well as having seen the striking movie by the same name. John was a Englishman, living in the late 1880′s who was horribly physically deformed–thus the nickname. Nevertheless, he was, both in the play and in real life, an extraordinary man. The acting in the production I saw was phenomenal; the young man playing Merrick brought us in touch with the soul of the man.

Throughout the play, we watch John–who is “groomed” to be accepted in acceptable society–speak into the world he is brought into with sparkling insight and spiritual perception. The one who appears to be so deformed seems to be the only one who is seeing life clearly.

One of the exchanges between John and an actress on the London stage he had come to know was particularly fascinating. They were discussing Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. Merrick was observing that Romeo’s act of killing himself clearly indicated that he did not love Juliet. When Romeo comes upon Juliet in the mausoleum, he holds a mirror to her face and, detecting no breath this way, he kills himself. Merrick insists that this is merely an illusion that Romeo gives into–and all because he does not truly love Juliet. This thought startles Mrs. Kendall, the actress, who had played the part numerous times herself.

Merrick: Romeo does not care for Juliet.

Mrs. Kendall: Not care?

Merrick: Does he take her pulse? Does he get a doctor? Does he make sure? No. He kills himself. The illusion fools him because he does not care for her. He only cares about himself. If I had been Romeo, we would have gotten away.

Mrs. Kendall: But then there would be no play, Mr. Merrick.

Merrick: If he did not love here, why should there be a play? Looking in a mirror and seeing nothing. That is not love. It was all an illusion. When the illusion ended he had to kill himself.

It is quite a startling conclusion to draw about one who is often pictured as the epitome of love. Merrick’s point seems to be that Romeo did what he did because he really loved loving Juliet more than he loved her. Could John be correct? Is Romeo’s love really more self-seeking than other-loving? And that question was all the more startling coming from the deformed mouth of a man who had experienced so little real love in his own life.

All of that, stirring in my mind and soul, drives me to ask myself a question: Am I living for an illusion? Have I settled for something less than “real-ness”? And, when the illusion I am living for vanishes, will that mean that my life as I know it comes to end as well?

Do I genuinely love Jesus? Or do I merely enjoy what I feel when I act like I am loving him?

Am I truly caught up in passion for Jesus? Or have I simply realized that life “goes better” when I try to do what Jesus does?

How far will I go in dependence on, confidence in, abandonment to Jesus? Will I pull back when life doesn’t play out quite the way I had hoped? (When my illusion begins to fade?)

John Merrick learned to live beyond mere appearance, superficial externals–perhaps because for so much of his life that is all that people focused on when looking at him. John seemed to want to live from the soul, from the core. And in that I hear an echo of my friend, the apostle Paul, who wrote:

For to me, to live is Christ (Philippians 1:21).

I count all things to be loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them but rubbish so that I may gain Christ (Philippians 3:8).

Paul would not be content with the mere appearance of being a follower of Jesus. He was not living for the illusion. He wanted Jesus and to experience life with him.

Mental Spam

Everybody hates spam . . . that cyber junk mail that fills your email inbox. It clogs your mail server and when that mail filtering system isn’t working as efficiently and effectively as it might, spam ends up eating away at your time your attention and your efforts. For years you would get junk mail in the mail box at the street, but it seems that with the ease of communication the amount of junk mail (the cyber kind) has skyrocketed.

With spammers become more and more clever and all the more purposeful in reaching each mail recipient, it can take real attentiveness to avoid the emails that should not be opened and just dump them in the trash. On top of the countless solicitations for the next best greatest “thing” you “need,” the mail box is also the delivery point for dangerous spam–viruses and hoaxes and worms and more.

It’s easy to slip into thinking that such things just “happen.” The spam just “shows up.” But the truth is that every piece of junk mail, every phishing scam, every virus infected message started with someone intent on capturing your thought or your time or your money or your efforts. And to not get snared, you have to know what to ignore, what to avoid, what to trash.

And the easiest way to do that? Just pay attention to what you really should be opening and reading. The odds of you wasting countless hours on useless spam and the chances of your computer getting infected by crippling viruses goes down significantly if you only open and read those things you know come from trusted sources.

And I think that such an approach can be of real help in dealing with “mental spam” as well.

Mental spam is the constant barrage of cognitive and emotional noise that comes our way through relationships, work, neighborhood, news, radio, media, billboards, magazines, friends, and well-intentioned family members. It’s not that all of their input and advice, information and images are entirely “trash-worthy.” But much of it just might be. There is a massive amount of mental spam just waiting for you to give your attention to it.

Although it’s clear that the apostle Paul could not have conceived of this idea in quite this way, I do think that he gives me a way forward in dealing with it. And his thinking on the subject is found in the closing chapter of his letter to the Philippians.

In that letter, Paul lays out his recipe for joy. Joy is what we experience when we have what we want most. When what is most precious to us is ours, we feel joy. Paul has come to see that Jesus–and the life that Paul gets to enjoy with him–is that which is most precious! So, leaning into and experiencing and cultivating and enjoying that life with Jesus is the great ground for Paul overwhelming joy–and that is at the heart of his letter to the Philippians. Living in the joy that is ours in life with Jesus.

But, life does present its challenges. Distractions do arise. Troubles do darken the skies. And the mental spam–calling us to see life differently, to think of ourselves and our Savior differently–can flood our mental mail box and rob us of our experience of joy.

So, I see Paul’s advice as providing something of a mental spam filter. Just listen to what he has to say:

Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things. (Philippians 4:8)

Like an email filter that recognizes certain addresses as “acceptable” while rejecting all others, Paul’s thoughts here can serve as a mental filter. Just think . . .

Is this conversation I am currently engaged about truth or rumor and innuendo?

Is the movie I am heading out to see honorable and worthy of praise?

Is what I read truly pure and lovely?

Is what I set my eyes on excellent and right?

Much that I see and hear and reflect on and live in leaves me tainted and effected in less than Jesus-directed ways. So much is just mental spam that I have allowed into my mind and heart where it does its viral destruction.

But it doesn’t have to be that way. Paul provides a remarkably effective mental spam filter for me. And that would leave me with a heart and mind less cluttered and distracted by all the cognitive and emotional and spiritual junk mail that is constantly bombarding us.

So, I think I’m going to try to press that mental “delete” key a lot more these days . . . and just not even open that mental spam.

The Right Perspective

One of the things that I have been exploring and thinking about and reflecting on in this blog is the kind of life of abandonment to joy in Christ that seems to permeate Paul’s letter to the Philippians. I have thought–in my own times, in these posts, and in countless conversations with others–about how Paul appears to have so clearly found such joy in life with Jesus that everything else pales in comparison and he suffers all that he endures for the satisfaction in joy that he finds in life with Jesus. He writes things like:

What then? Only that in every way, whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is proclaimed; and in this I rejoice. Yes, and I will rejoice, for I know that this will turn out for my deliverance through your prayers and the provision of the Spirit of Jesus Christ, according to my earnest expectation and hope, that I will not be put to shame in anything, but that with all boldness, Christ will even now, as always, be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. (Philippians 1:18-20)

For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. (Philippians 1:21)

But whatever things were gain to me, those things I have counted as loss for the sake of Christ. More than that, I count all things to be loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them but rubbish so that I may gain Christ. (Philippians 3:7-8)

Not that I speak from want, for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me. (Philippians 4:11-13)

When I hear these words and realize that Paul is writing them from prison, having faced untold hardships, endured suffering I cannot even imagine, all because he knew Jesus, I wonder: Can people really live that way? Is it possible to find such genuine satisfaction in Jesus that the hardest of circumstances and the most difficult of trials still fade when compared to sharing life with Jesus? Because, truth be told, I do not live there very well.

I recently heard, in a message from a well-respected pastor, a short reading from a biography of John G. Paton who was a missionary to the New Hebrides, ministering to an unreached people group in the South Sea islands in the late 1850s. After sharing his determination to go and tell the amazing good news about Jesus with these who had not heard, another Christian gentleman bristled and rebuked Paton saying, “You’ll be eaten by cannibals!”

To this rebuke, Paton replied:  ”Your own prospect is soon to be laid in the grave, there to be eaten by worms; I confess to you, that if I can but live and die serving and honoring the Lord Jesus, it will make no difference to me whether I am eaten by cannibals or by worms; and in the Great Day my resurrection body will arise as fair as yours in the likeness of our risen Redeemer.”

What an amazing and sweet and convicting thought! Paton had found such satisfaction in Jesus that to honor him, even if it meant being eaten by cannibals, was glorious and desirable.

Oh, that the wonderful Savior would continue to work in my soul in such real and rich and deep ways that I would taste the joy that Paul writes about and find the satisfaction in Jesus that Paton so evidently knew.