“… I have never been eloquent… I am slow of speech and tongue…” Exodus 4:10
When a person comes face to face with the Living God his soul is laid bare and all worldly status, skill, and social achievement is quite simply, stripped away. From infancy, Moses was raised in the most progressive civilization in the world – Pharaoh’s Egypt. He learned its arithmetic, its poetry, and its magic; even became a general in its military. He was a learned dignitary, “educated in the wisdom of the Egyptians and powerful in speech and action.” (Acts 7:22) So what he said wasn’t exactly true. He could talk, he had lead, he was a real player in the land of Egypt – educated and enmeshed in Egyptian high culture.
Yet, here, in the Presence of God on the mountain, he realizes who he thought he was couldn’t hold a candle to who the Shekinah Creator said he was.
It’s a funny thing, isn't it? When God reveals his call on our life, we instinctively tell him why it can’t work. The subject of the conversation changes from his call to our inadequacies. First it begins as an opportunity – something of a surprise, something he knows we’d love to do. Then, somewhere in the midst of the discussion (and the discussion may last for years, by the way) it turns to an argument. Not long after that we sense God’s rising anger in our lingering procrastination. One day we come to our senses and realize that – yes, he has called us – and, no, we cant do it in our own strength.
That’s when God calls, “Bingo.”
This is called the, Conversion to Calling. It happens to all of us at some time or another. It’s when we realize our best can never touch what is needed to carry out God’s call on our life’s. It is a spiritual nexus – a colliding of worlds of sorts – where we are both completely convinced of the call of ministry on our life AND, in the same instant, realize our complete inadequacies for the job he has called us to do. How can we possibly live into the revelation of his call knowing we fall so miserably short of the Glory of God?
One more time – let’s say it together with God, “Bingo!"
This is exactly where we need to be (and exactly where we need to stay). It has been God's destination for us all along. When we arrive here, humbled at the mountain of God's Almighty Throne, his work, in one sense, has been accomplished. All those years he’s worked to get us off our pride and into humility accumulate here, at this one point in time. All the lessons of his sufficiency in the midst of our insuffencies have been predesigned for this one moment.
In a moment's flash we realize it's impossible to do anything God calls us to on our own. It's when we realise he's calling us to do it on his own.
Holy Father, I stand at the ceiling of my being, knowing that all I offer is tasteless to food from above. Breath into my brokenness with your Almighty Grace and, in the power of your Living Word, create in me a disdain for my efforts and ordain me for yours. In the Name of the One who changes my water to wine, Jesus Christ. Amen.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Prophetic Points to Ponder III
“… she placed the child in the papyrus basket and put it among the reeds…” Exodus 2:3
Amram, Moses mother, loved her son to such an extent that she intentionally positioned him to be caught up in the house of her enemy. He was captured – drawn out of the waters – and was immediately baptized in the most progressive civilization in the world. He learned its arithmetic, its poetry, and its magic; even became a general in its military. He became a learned dignitary, “educated in the wisdom of the Egyptians and powerful in speech and action.” (Acts 7:22)
One would think Moses’ exposure to this hardened, poly-theistic culture would have ruined him. Yet it became the very springboard for his future call to ministry. Through his loving mother, God placed this infant prophet into the very heart of Egypt – the same Egypt from which he would one day return, rescue, and deliver His children and lead them to the Promised Land.
Herein lies a powerful foreshadowing of the ministry of Christ. Like Moses, Christ was intentionally released from Love’s Arms and positioned to be captured – drawn from the waters of Mary’s womb, if you will – to live, learn, and grow into the baptism of this fallen world, that he would one day rise and become its Everlasting Redeemer.
It is never God’s final intent to place us in Egypt, to lean its arithmetic, its poetry, and its magic, for Egypt’s sake alone. If that were the case the Church would evolve into a spineless amoeba of stealthy chameleons, sold out to a system governed by the prince of darkness. No, we have a much higher call – a call that, like the Presence of God on Sinai, transcends time and space and trumpets forth the Heart of Matter. We are only passing through. True, we live in the world, but we are not of the world. Like Moses (and like Jesus) we have been positioned from above to proclaim the testimony of the One with whom we’ve met on the mountain.
Holy Father, as Amram sent her son Moses into a foreign culture and as you sent Jesus into the world of your redemption, so too have you positioned us to live with the people you so dearly love. Give us such an awareness of your mission in the world that we would never loose site of the higher call, the call we heard at our Transfiguration, the call to evangelize the world with the Good News of Christ Jesus. It is in his Name we pray. Amen.
Amram, Moses mother, loved her son to such an extent that she intentionally positioned him to be caught up in the house of her enemy. He was captured – drawn out of the waters – and was immediately baptized in the most progressive civilization in the world. He learned its arithmetic, its poetry, and its magic; even became a general in its military. He became a learned dignitary, “educated in the wisdom of the Egyptians and powerful in speech and action.” (Acts 7:22)
One would think Moses’ exposure to this hardened, poly-theistic culture would have ruined him. Yet it became the very springboard for his future call to ministry. Through his loving mother, God placed this infant prophet into the very heart of Egypt – the same Egypt from which he would one day return, rescue, and deliver His children and lead them to the Promised Land.
Herein lies a powerful foreshadowing of the ministry of Christ. Like Moses, Christ was intentionally released from Love’s Arms and positioned to be captured – drawn from the waters of Mary’s womb, if you will – to live, learn, and grow into the baptism of this fallen world, that he would one day rise and become its Everlasting Redeemer.
It is never God’s final intent to place us in Egypt, to lean its arithmetic, its poetry, and its magic, for Egypt’s sake alone. If that were the case the Church would evolve into a spineless amoeba of stealthy chameleons, sold out to a system governed by the prince of darkness. No, we have a much higher call – a call that, like the Presence of God on Sinai, transcends time and space and trumpets forth the Heart of Matter. We are only passing through. True, we live in the world, but we are not of the world. Like Moses (and like Jesus) we have been positioned from above to proclaim the testimony of the One with whom we’ve met on the mountain.
Holy Father, as Amram sent her son Moses into a foreign culture and as you sent Jesus into the world of your redemption, so too have you positioned us to live with the people you so dearly love. Give us such an awareness of your mission in the world that we would never loose site of the higher call, the call we heard at our Transfiguration, the call to evangelize the world with the Good News of Christ Jesus. It is in his Name we pray. Amen.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Prophetic Points to Ponder II
“…Moses reported this to the Israelites but they did not listen to him because of their discouragement and cruel bondage...” Exodus 6:9
The words of Moses were words of hope and promise. Through the stuttering lips of the timid prophet, God was seeking to communicate that he had heard the cries of his children. He was assuring them he would deliver them from the yoke of Egyptian slavery and lead them, with a mighty hand, into the land of Promise. (Exodus 6:6-8)
But they wouldn't hear a word of it. Perhaps, better said, they couldn’t hear a word of it.
Once, sometime in the past, they had been filled with faith, gratitude, and enthusiasm for the things of God – the Land of Goshen. But now their hearts had become strangely similar to the bricks they were mindlessly manufacturing for Pharaoh; hardened and impenetrable by any moisture from above.
If not monitored, the desert elements of discouragement and cruel bondage will form a toxic combination which handicaps ones ability to hear (and believe) the Promises of God. The Bible calls this condition “a hardened heart.” It’s a natural outcome of life in the desert and can breed a cynical, bitter, and even disbelieving demeanor in the heart of the disciple.
Ezekiel prophesied God would one day remove the heart of stone and exchange it with a heart of flesh. (Ezekiel 11:19) A heart of flesh is a beautiful thing. A person with a heart of flesh dares to listen. She is sensitive, discerning, and open. She is willing to believe. Her being is intentionally softened through the streams of the Holy Spirit. She is postured in certain, living vulnerability, which enables her to flow within and embrace the mysterious wonder of God’s promise.
Even in the midst of immense pain and disappointment, a person with a heart of flesh can recognize and even be encouraged by God’s Promise, regardless of how preposterous it seems.
Heavenly Father, create in me a contrite heart. Lift me from all discouragement and cruel bondage. Wash me in the water of your Word and rain onto my rocky soil, that I might know you and believe you as your Word is revealed in my heart. Amen.
The words of Moses were words of hope and promise. Through the stuttering lips of the timid prophet, God was seeking to communicate that he had heard the cries of his children. He was assuring them he would deliver them from the yoke of Egyptian slavery and lead them, with a mighty hand, into the land of Promise. (Exodus 6:6-8)
But they wouldn't hear a word of it. Perhaps, better said, they couldn’t hear a word of it.
Once, sometime in the past, they had been filled with faith, gratitude, and enthusiasm for the things of God – the Land of Goshen. But now their hearts had become strangely similar to the bricks they were mindlessly manufacturing for Pharaoh; hardened and impenetrable by any moisture from above.
If not monitored, the desert elements of discouragement and cruel bondage will form a toxic combination which handicaps ones ability to hear (and believe) the Promises of God. The Bible calls this condition “a hardened heart.” It’s a natural outcome of life in the desert and can breed a cynical, bitter, and even disbelieving demeanor in the heart of the disciple.
Ezekiel prophesied God would one day remove the heart of stone and exchange it with a heart of flesh. (Ezekiel 11:19) A heart of flesh is a beautiful thing. A person with a heart of flesh dares to listen. She is sensitive, discerning, and open. She is willing to believe. Her being is intentionally softened through the streams of the Holy Spirit. She is postured in certain, living vulnerability, which enables her to flow within and embrace the mysterious wonder of God’s promise.
Even in the midst of immense pain and disappointment, a person with a heart of flesh can recognize and even be encouraged by God’s Promise, regardless of how preposterous it seems.
Heavenly Father, create in me a contrite heart. Lift me from all discouragement and cruel bondage. Wash me in the water of your Word and rain onto my rocky soil, that I might know you and believe you as your Word is revealed in my heart. Amen.
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