Well, lest I think prayer was a second-class citizen in life, the next chapter in Desiring God extolled its virtues. I particularly liked the image one paragraph gave me, so I made a lame diagram of it in MS Paint. Yes, it would have been better in Visio. No, I don’t have Visio on this laptop. Anyway, since it’s so lame, I’ll explain a bit. Basically, from one dimension flows many, and back into one. Prayer creates, sustains, or enables the working of all these essential aspects of life, and these aspects in turn fuel our overarching purpose in life, and that which we cannot attain without the Spirit of God: Love! It is true our purpose is to glorify God and enjoy him forever, but that glorification and enjoyment is expressed in love for Him and for others. In the diagram, the top phrases have love at the beginning (Love is the fruit of the Spirit) and the bottom phrases have prayer at the end (the Spirit is given in answer to prayer). Without further ado, here is my lame drawing. www.biblegateway.com is great for looking up bible references in many versions.

 

If I believe my spirit is eternal, while my body is mortal, should not the nourishment of the former be more important, sans exception, than the latter? And yet I have been more consistent in eating cereal! ‘Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’ From Desiring God:

This has been the secret of God’s great spiritual warriors. They have saturated themselves with the Word of God. Hudson Taylor, founder of the China Inland Mission, sustained himself through incredible hardships by a disciplined meditation on the Bible every day. Dr. and Mrs. Howard Taylor give us a glimpse of this discipline:

It was not easy for Mr. Taylor, in his changeful life, to make time for prayer and Bible study, but he knew that it was vital. Well do the writers remember traveling with him month after month in northern China, by cart and wheelbarrow with the poorest of inns at night. Often with only one large room for coolies and travelers alike, they would screen off a corner for their father and another for themselves, with curtains of some sort; and then, after sleep at last had brought a measure of quiet, they would hear a match struck and see the flicker of candlelight which told that Mr. Taylor, however weary, was pouring over the little Bible in two volumes always at hand. From two to four a.m. was the time he usually gave to prayer; the time he could be most sure of being undisturbed to wait upon God.

Often I’ve thought “I don’t have time to read today, I’ll just pray on the way to work.” George Mueller, a great saint of God, shares in his autobiography a turning point in his spiritual growth. It’s encouraging me to put in the work necessary to adjust my schedule so that I have time to read scripture every day.

Before this time my practice had been, at least for ten years previously, as an habitual thing, to give myself to prayer, after having dressed in the morning. Now I saw, that the most important thing I had to do was to give myself to the reading of the Word of God and to meditation on it, that thus my heart might be comforted, encouraged, warned, reproved, instructed; and that thus, whilst meditating, my heart might be brought into experimental, communion with the Lord. I began therefore, to meditate on the New Testament, from the beginning, early in the morning.

The first thing I did, after having asked in a few words the Lord’s blessing upon His precious Word, was to begin to meditate on the Word of God; searching, as it were, into every verse, to get blessing out of it; not for the sake of the public ministry of the Word; not for the sake of preaching on what I had meditated upon; but for the sake of obtaining food for my own soul. The result I have found to be almost invariably this, that after a very few minutes my soul has been led to confession, or to thanksgiving, or to intercession, or to supplication; so that though I did not, as it were, give myself to prayer, but to meditation, yet it turned almost immediately more or less into prayer.
…
The difference between my former practice and my present one is this. Formerly, when I rose, I began to pray as soon as possible, and generally spent all my time till breakfast in prayer, or almost all the time. At all events I almost invariably began with prayer…. But what was the result? I often spent a quarter of an hour, or half an hour, or even an hour on my knees, before being conscious to myself of having derived comfort, encouragement, humbling of soul, etc.; and often after having suffered much from wandering of mind for the first ten minutes, or a quarter of an hour, or even half an hour, I only then began really to pray.
…
As the outward man is not fit for work for any length of time, except we take food, and as this is one of the first things we do in the morning, so it should be with the inner man. We should take food for that, as every one must allow. Now what is the food for the inner man: not prayer, but the Word of God: and here again not the simple reading of the Word of God, so that it only passes through our minds, just as water runs through a pipe, but considering what we read, pondering over it, and applying it to our hearts…

From John Piper’s book “Desiring God,” I resonated with this section because I have lately felt the frustration of reaching the end of all my “mountains.” I’ve been unhappy and guilt-ridden at my unsatisfaction in life, when I have so much to be grateful for. The unsatisfaction has driven me to seek lesser things (”exciting” tech news stories, driving fast, etc..) when I had a thrilling lifelong set of challenges right there. I think the key is that I forgot myself in the world. I forgot that the gnawing void of dissatisfaction cannot be filled in this world; no, we are on a climb that only reaches the peak when we meet Christ in the next. So I’m off now, to work on this internal mountain, knowing that I will experience intense joy and grief intermingled until I’m together with the object of my climb.

Conquering the Internal Mountain of Pride

There is an analogy here to a powerful motive that exists in unbelieving hearts as well. Virtually all people outside Christ are possessed by the desire to find happiness by overcoming some limitation in their lives and having the sensation of power. Heinrich Harrer, a member of the first team to climb the north wall of the Eiger in the Swiss Alps, confessed that his reason for attempting such a climb was to overcome a sense of insecurity. “Self-confidence,” he said, “is the most valuable gift a man can possess . . . but to possess this true confidence it is necessary to have learned to know oneself at moments when one was standing at the very frontier of things…. On the `Spider’ in the Eiger’s North Face, I experienced such borderline situations, while the avalanches were roaring down over us, endlessly.”

The all-important difference between the non-Christian and the Christian Hedonist in this pursuit of joy is that the Christian Hedonist has discovered that self-confidence will never satisfy the longing of his heart to overcome finitude.

He has learned that what we are really made for is not the thrill of feeling our own power increase, but the thrill of feeling God’s power increase-conquering the precipices of un-love in our sinful hearts.

As I said in the letter to my friend Ronn, it is an indictment of our own worldliness that we feel more exhilaration when we conquer an external mountain of granite in our own strength than when we conquer the internal mountain of pride in God’s strength. The miracle of Christian Hedonism is that overcoming obstacles to love by the grace of God has become more enticing than every form of self-confidence. The joy of experiencing the power of God’s grace defeating selfishness is an insatiable addiction.

Moses describes in this way the righteousness that is by the law: “The man who does these things will live by them.” But the righteousness that is by faith says: “Do not say in your heart, ‘Who will ascend into heaven?’” (that is, to bring Christ down) “or ‘Who will descend into the deep?’” (that is, to bring Christ up from the dead). But what does it say? “The word is near you; it is in your mouth and in your heart,” that is, the word of faith we are proclaiming: That if you confess with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you confess and are saved. (Romans 10:5-10)

We see examples all around of both means of gaining life in this modern world. Whether it is attempting to stand tall upon the towering pillars of data we have accumulated, or profit richly by distributing computational power to ensure all the 1s and 0s are in their proper places. Convergence upon a goal using larger, higher-level, more powerful logical/functional blocks: ascend to heaven/bring Christ down. Distributed, p2p, grid, emergent intelligence: descend into the deep/bring Christ up from the dead. Putting God in a large or many small boxes, but contain Him nonetheless. Truly knowing Him requires us to release this control, nay, hope of control, for it is impossible to digitize infinity. Knowing Him, not in the factual sense, for that is oxymoronic, but in the relationship sense, is what we are called to, and what will satisfy us on an eternal scale. We have a choice: eat from the tree of knowledge and “master” the universe one predictable, discrete step at a time (until we die), or eat the bread of life, and be plunged into an unpredictable, continuous love story. He promises a happy ending, but we cannot RFID tag the actors and plug the variables into a massive grid computer to assure the outcome. We must trust Him, and doing so requires a dynamic, developing relationship. Crystallized stasis, finite understanding, and assurance of the physical universe are promised by the fruit of the tree of knowledge. Abundant life, living water and assurance of nothing but unbounded, eternal love from an infinite, unpredictable God are promised by Jesus. Rule of law, or freedom in Spirit - which will you choose?

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery. (Galatians 5:1)

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28)

The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit. (John 3:8)

Taking a cue from some other blogs I’ve seen, I’m responding to a comment as another entry, since my response is so long…

If this is the same Brad I know from Stanford–Long time no see, and long time no late night discussion. I enjoyed reading this entry and the others on this page, but I wanted to bring up one aspect of the Eden story that has always puzzled me. Everything you have already said makes sense, but how do you reconcile the idea that Adam and Eve were created with an innocent nature, without knowledge of good and evil, with the fact that they are expected by their creator to make the most important decision for humankind until the coming of the Christ? To me, that has always seemed on some level to be unfair. Let me know what you think.

This is the same Brad! Long time no see indeed! I’ll email ya to catch up, but talk Eden here.

That’s a great question. It’s had me thinking and writing and talking all evening. I think it’s especially difficult to answer because it is prodding at the essential nature of reality, looking for the source and nature of human free will. You say it seems unfair on some level - I agree. But can we come up with a scheme that is fair, and still provides innocent Adam and Eve with real choice?

In the moment of decision, could innocent Eve (not knowing good and evil) have “fairly” chosen good when faced with good and evil? On the one hand, she had God’s command. On the other, a serpent (who, not unimportantly, was placed under mankind in authority), directly contradicting God.

At this point, I think it’s important to realize a couple of things. The underlying hebrew term for knowledge in “tree of knowledge of good and evil” is not mere intellectual awareness, but intimate, experiential knowledge. And evil, rather than being an independent thing, is really the lack of good. Or, put another way, separation from good - God. With God as the only ultimate standard of good, evil is defined by his absence. The tree of knowledge of good and evil therefore, was a huge gift. It allowed us to define good, and therefore evil, not by God, but by Self, and therefore to exercise either true independence, or true dependence on God. God knew it would appear good to Eve’s eyes - that is why he prepared her with the command. Her choice was therefore not as abstract as it might at first seem, thinking about her as a blank slate. She decided to define good as what “looked right in her own eyes,” rather than believe God’s word to her.

I would argue that Adam and Eve were not in a unique position - they had the same opportunity we have. They did “know” (though they had not yet experienced) good from evil. Another way to label those concepts is life and death. God told them that eating from just that one tree would lead to their death. Thus, he set up the easiest to understand world with true choice imaginable, giving them his Word that (A) was good (From any tree of the garden you may eat freely) and (B) was evil (from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat from it you will surely die).

So, I believe the garden of Eden story is there to lay out for us what God intends for us (life pre-Fall), what opportunity we have to define what is good in our own eyes and reject what God intends for us, what results from both obedience and disobedience, and finally how God loves us enough to hold out life to us in spite of our disobedience. It’s critical to realize Adam and Eve didn’t need experiential knowledge of death to trust God’s word. God was able to create us all with free will while knowing and preparing for all our free choices - that’s what omnipotence combined with omniscience implies, though it’s unfathomable to our finite minds.

Finally, I think the notion of unfairness is the crux of this question. One definition from dictionary.com:

Not fair; marked by injustice or partiality or deception.

Essentially, was God unjust in giving them the freedom to experience death, even if he gave them the knowledge they might have used to stay protected and experiencing life to the full? Asking that question, admitting that it appears unfair, is fine. The forbidden fruit appeared good to Eve because of her finite knowledge and an active deceiver. But if you answer that question affirmatively in your heart, you are defining a standard of good independent of God, and are furthermore judging the hearts of Adam and Eve since you know they didn’t have a “fair” opportunity to avoid plunging mankind into sin. Finally, you are not believing God’s word: “He is the Rock, his works are perfect, and all his ways are just. A faithful God who does no wrong, upright and just is he.” (Deuteronomy 32:4).

This story, like Romans 9, ends up turning our eyes inward the more we question the justice of it all. In the end, we cannot speak for Adam, Eve, Esau, or Pharaoh. We do not know their personal experience, for that is between them and God. If we look deeper, acknowledging we can only truly judge our own personal struggle, we may cry out “Indeed, I have rejected you and decided for myself what is right - why did you make me this way!?” In this moment, all is stripped bare but the eternal struggle each of us faces not just at one finite moment, but continually, all our life. What is left before us is the same choice Adam and Eve faced: to believe that God is fair and good, meaning we should trust his Word and obey him, or to believe the serpent - our own eyes are the best standard for right and wrong. We ask a good God why he made us such that we sin. If we judge him unjust, we set ourselves higher and apart from God and choose death, since he alone is the source and sustainer of life. If we instead believe his Word and assert him as fair in spite of our own shortcomings, “he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9) All he wants is our relationship, but we cannot relate to him in truth unless we acknowledge our dependence on him. I’ve asked this question in various forms so many times, and God never “answers” me, he just waits with open arms.

Not just an arbitrary plot, Eden reflects the elements of your and my daily life, and looks forward to the Word of God becoming flesh, dying that we might live if we will trust him and enter into the most fulfilling relationship possible. From the NIV study notes in my bible:

The antagonism between people and snakes is used to symbolize the outcome of the titanic struggle between God and the evil one, a struggle played out in the hearts and history of mankind. The offspring of the woman would eventually crush the serpent’s head, a promise fulfilled in Christ’s victory over Satan–a victory in which all believers will share (see Ro 16:20).

So, was it fair? Yes. Justification? God. Satisfying answer? Only if you trust him. If so, its not only satisfying, it displays the greatest truth we know: God loves us, wants a real relationship with us, and promises life overflowing if we believe him.

On the last and greatest day of the Feast, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, “If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.” John 7:37-38)

(This is a stream-of-consciousness set of notes I made about what we place our trust in)

Christ = source of life, order, creation of something new. ultimate sacrifice for all (scripture)

Anti-Christ = convergence on self, attempts to “gain” everything that is already in existence, ultimate self-focus

Our role: receive life from Christ, the source. We cannot create life in our finity, for “everything that is, has been, and everything that has been will be again.” John 16:13-15 life flows from Christ to the Spirit, which is in believers.

“How???” … If ultimate convergence = obedience to law = method mastery, “what” shall we do to receive Christ? The question is invalidated by it’s premise: that methods cannot bring life. John 17:3. And indeed, we have an example of someone asking exactly this question. Matthew 19:16-26. In the end, there is nothing we can do to receive Christ/eternal life. We must believe what he said, and honor him as Lord. This isn’t a method, this gets to the fundamental nature of the universe, and defines who we are. What we do does not define who we are. Who we are defines what we do. And what we believe is “god” of this universe, be it nothing, entropy, evolution, humankind, etc… defines who we are. God injected this world with his presence, his love, that we might believe and become part of his family. Jesus was a tear in space-time, the creative force of the big bang’s zero time walking the earth. And his presence sent ripples through the universe, and the “Spirit of truth” promised to all who believe him means he is present and active still. So what are we to “do”?

And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. (Colossians 3:17)

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving. (Colossians 3:23-24)

I have seen the burden God has laid on men. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end. For with much wisdom comes much sorrow; the more knowledge, the more grief. But you, Daniel, close up and seal the words of the scroll until the time of the end. Many will go here and there to increase knowledge. I heard, but I did not understand. So I asked, ‘My lord, what will the outcome of all this be?’ He replied, ‘Go your way, Daniel, because the words are closed up and sealed until the time of the end. Many will be purified, made spotless and refined, but the wicked will continue to be wicked. None of the wicked will understand, but those who are wise will understand.’ The man without the Spirit does not accept the things that come from the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him, and he cannot understand them, because they are spiritually discerned. ‘Meaningless! Meaningless!’ says the Teacher. ‘Everything is meaningless!’ Now all has been heard; here is the conclusion of the matter: Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every deed into judgement, including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil. (Ecclesiastes 3:10-11, 1:18, Daniel 12:4, 12:8-10, 1 Corinthians 2:14, Ecclesiastes 12:8, 12:13-14)

Justice but mercy, etc… We cannot have both in our finity, our convergence lacks balance. A dynamic equilibrium is what science predicts and we seek, but it cannot yield perfection. Convergence towards God is true convergence, apart from Him, life is a numerical solution. Algebraic solutions yield relationship, meaning, and that is what Jesus offers in his linking of himself to God and the Spirit, and to us through the Spirit. When we “prove” through Newton’s method of convergence, we can only be fairly certain. An algebraic solution is different. It represents a tenet, it describes the relationship between things absolutely, in an abstract and final way, and we can believe in the truth of the solution. Humanity is searching this fractal universe for the meaning of life, or trying to reconcile believing in no meaning with their reality. Jesus=Lord. This is my fundamental unifying theory. I believe it like I believe the Pythagorean theorem. Though the implications are more abstract truths, rather than mathematical ones, they jive with reality. Finally, the more I believe and trust him, the more life he gives me. I cannot create life, but I can receive it. John 17:20-24. I must become less, he must become more. Erasing identity, individuality? “New name, white stone, known only to him.”

What do you trust in?

Newtonian mechanics.

General/special relativity.

Quantum mechanics.

Superstring theory.

Some future G.U.T.?

Can you trust your incomplete scientific model of the universe? I mean really trust it. Does it give you repeatable, predictable results? To what extent? To what precision?

I saw a slashdot article the other day that talked about numerical vs. algebraic solutions to an equation. And one of the comments was about how the algebraic–exact–solution was still useful because it helped you understand the relationships/meanings (fill this out) vs. a converging solution which would be merely “practically” useful in a finite amount of converging steps.

Science, economics, technology, politics, communication–they’re all on a path of convergence. But that is all they will ever be–an approximate solution. We are all trying to solve something, and although we can’t seem to agree even what it is we’re solving, we are getting more and more efficient at at, whatever it is. What is it we are converging to? As we gain more and more power over our universe, and more people have access to that power, what is at the singularity? Who should wield the ever increasing power? There are plenty of interested parties.

Without an absolute, without an exact solution, it’s anyone’s guess where we will converge. Interestingly enough, Jesus flat out tells us. We’ll converge on Jerusalem. Note that he says this will be a convergence of desolation, judgement, and punishment. Certainly, the armies will believe it’s another step towards converging on a perfect world. Everyone has their idea about convergence and how the world should be, and whether it’s expressed in economics, politics, “religion,” or engineering, it represents a step in the “right” direction. It’s what we devote our lives to. Equitable wealth distribution? No more humans to muck up the planet? A perfectly efficient and liquid market economy? More random acts of kindness? Family values? Individual rights? Peace? Health?

The fact is, whether we like it or not, we are on a convergence path. The human impulse is to “improve” it’s surroundings, and has been for a long time. And we remember. But whatever solution path we’re on, it’s of the numeric kind. If only we had an algebraic, exact solution to life.

Jesus calls it “the kingdom of God.” And like all algebraic solutions, it gives more than a snapshot, practical approximation of life. He doesn’t give values to variables, instead he says things like “The kingdom of God is like…” And he tells people “You are not far from the kingdom of God.” In the end, the algebraic solution is not a pragmatic one, in a sense. For the solutions we seek on our own are too small. We are finite, alas. It makes sense, then, for an authentic God to understand that we have no real power. The real solution is not something we can do, or understand. It’s something we must believe, and obey. For when we believe we can converge by ourselves successfully, we grant Godship status to ourselves.

This is a section out of the book The Sacred Romance that I liked. The underlined parts are things I really identified with.

… A second picture of the way God desires to commune with us is found in 1 Kings 19 where we find the prophet Elijah worn out and afraid, fleeing from Jezebel. She has been trying to kill him ever since he did the same to her prophets. God tenderly ministers to Elijah, twice bringing him food and water. Elijah, strengthened, travels forty days and forty nights until he reaches Mt. Horeb, where he goes to sleep in a cave. The Lord wakes him and listens to his lament about what it is like to be God’s prophet. Elijah is worn out from “doing” and badly in need of restoration of spirit. A great wind strikes the mountain, followed by an earthquake and a fire. And God is in none of these. Finally, Elijah hears a “gentle whisper.” and it is in the gentle whisper that he finds God.

And so it is with us. God is not “out there somewhere” in some dramatic way, waiting to commune with us by earthquake of fire or signs in the sky. Instead, he desires to talk with us in the quietness of our own heart through his Spirit, who is in us. It is his voice that has whispered to us about a Sacred Romance. What do you hear when you listen for that gentle, quiet voice?

What I so often hear, or feel, is a restlessness, a distractedness where it seems that dozens if not hundreds of disconnected or scattered thoughts vie for my attention. … There seems to be no stillness or rest. If I try to hold still, my soul reacts like a feather in the afternoon breeze, flitting from place to place without purpose or direction. I almost seem invisible in the noise or blankness. Theologians refer to this condition as “ontological lightness,” the reality that when I stop “doing” and simply listen to my heart, I am not anchored to anything substantive. I become aware that my very identity is synonymous with activity.

Many of us sense that this is true in our vocation, our religion, and even our recreation. When we are trying to get to know who people are, we typically ask what they do. I am a counselor, you are abusinessman. It is how we tend to think of ourselves … Our whole American culture is infected with ontological lightness, celebrities and pro athletes being the most dramatic exapmles of this victimization of our souls that ruins us for any substantive love relationship. They are anchored only to their performances and out of their performances come their identities–and ours who worship them. As soon as they stop performing, their identities–and ours–disappear.

… Two years ago, worn out by three years of spiritual battle, I found myself asking the question this way: “Jesus, if your Spirit abides in me in the person of the Holy Spirit, who is my Comforter, why do I so often feel alone and you seem so far away?” What came in response were Jesus’ words in John 15:5, “I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.” Jesus was saying, “Living spiritually requires something more than just not sinning or doing good works. In order to live in the kingdom of heaven, you must abide in me. Your identity is in me.”

If I’m not abiding in Jesus, then where is it that I abide? I asked myself.

I began to notice that when I was tired or anxious, there were certain sentences that I would say in my head that led me to a very familiar place. The journey to this place would often start with me walking around disturbed, feeling as if there was something deep inside that I needed to put into words but couldn’t quite capture. I felt the “something” as an anxiety, a loneliness, and a need for connection with someone. If no connection came, I would start to say things like “Life really stinks. Why is it always so hard? It’s never going to change.” If no one noticed that I was struggling and asked me what was wrong, I found my sentences shifting again to a more cynical level: “Who cares? Life is really a joke.” Surprisingly, I noticed by the time I was saying those last sentences, I was feeling better. The anxiety was greatly diminished.

My “comforter,” my abiding place, was cynicism and rebellion. From this abiding place, I would feel free to use some soul cocaine–a violence video with maybe a little sexual titillation thrown in, perhaps having a little more alcohol with a meal than I might normally drink–things that would allow me to feel better for just a little while. I had always thought of these things as just bad habits. I began to see that they were much more; they were spiritual abiding places that were my comforters and friends in a very spiritual way; literally, other lovers.

The final light went on one evening when I read John 15 in The Message. Peterson translates Jesus’ words on abiding this way: “If you make yourselves at home with me and my words are at home in you, you can be sure that whatever you ask will be listened to and acted upon.” Jesus was saying in answer to my question, “I have made my home in you, Brent. But you still have other comforters you go to. You must learn to make your home in me. ” I realized that my identity had something to do with simply “staying at home.”

It also dawned on me that holiness, surprisingly, also comes not out of doing but out of staying at home, with who and where we are and with who and where God is in us. Indeed, we will only have the courage to leave home and continue to live as pilgrims out on the road if we have some sense that our true home abides within us in the Spirit of Christ and that we can do the same with him. And in the meantime, out of this abiding, Jesus transforms us. Our identity begins to coalesce, not out of doing, but out of living with a good friend for a number of years and simply finding we have become more like him.

… Resting in Jesus is not applying a spiritual formula to ourselves as a kind of fix-it. It is the essence of repentance. It is letting our heart tell us where we are in our own story so that Jesus can minister to us out of the Story of his love for us. When, in a given moment, we lay down our false self and the smaller story of whatever performance has sustained us, when we give up everything else but him, we experience the freedom of knowing that he simply loves us where we are. We begin just to be, having our identity anchored in him. We begin to experience our spiritual life as the “easy yoke and light burden” Jesus tells us is his experience. We become ontologically substantive.

My blood is boiling in all four chambers of my heart. I want to know everything. Especially everything forbidden. I want to know good from evil… or perhaps… evil from good. I know with a few more tries I’ll find that catalyst I’ve been looking for — that compound that reacts with my boiling blood and ignites my heart with eternal fire, infinite heat. I know it’s out there. I saw it in that girl’s flickering glance. I heard it in that minor chord on the radio. It’s just over the hill, just around the corner. I think it’s down one of these two bifurcations in my fractal life. Let me just hit the end of these two possibilities real quick, they won’t branch too much. Once I’ve mapped this fractal I’ll see how it all fits together from above. Shouldn’t take too much longer. I know I’ll find that Life I’m looking for down one of these paths, or at least I’ll understand the big picture well enough to know Life once I’ve mapped all the corridors. I’m all right. I’m on my way.

‘So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.’
— 2 Corinthians 4:18

‘Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.’
— Matthew 10:39

‘Yet the LORD longs to be gracious to you;
he rises to show you compassion.
For the LORD is a God of justice.
Blessed are all who wait for him!’
— Isaiah 30:18

‘So be careful to do what the LORD your God has commanded you; do not turn aside to the right or to the left.’
— Deuteronomy 5:32

‘Let your eyes look straight ahead, fix your gaze directly before you.’
— Proverbs 4:25

‘Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.’
— Hebrews 12:2

‘He who has the Son has life; he who does not have the Son of God does not have life. ‘
— John 5:12

I’m reading an excellent book called Waking the Dead by John Eldredge. The subtitle is “The Glory of a Heart Fully Alive.” This book is written for followers of Jesus who have settled a bit, I think. At least that’s what I had done. I knew I wanted more, but became hopeless because trying hard wasn’t getting me anywhere — which makes sense, given the numerous scriptures about effort alone, apart from a real dependence on God. This book showed me in part what I was looking for: why I needed to depend on God in a land of “abundance.” I don’t worry about where my next meal is coming from. But I need to depend on God just as the Israelites did in the desert, depending on his next provision of manna for food.

I need Jesus for Life. Something occurred to me in the shower this morning, which relates to the previous sentence. I resolved to make a google search because I figured the aphorism I came up with might have been said before. “Truth unapplied is meaningless.” Well, I didn’t find it, but I’m sure it’s been said before. 2 + 2 = 4 is meaningless unless applied in some way. Pages of solved orbital equations are meaningless unless Cassini is launched. Now, the truths contained in those pages could be applied in other ways, perhaps a computer animation of a trip to Saturn, or even through a physicist’s mental trip there. But these truths are far easier to apply than the truly deep, eternal truths.

Perhaps I shouldn’t say easier. Easier glosses over what it takes to apply some truths. “I need Jesus for Life” is easier in theory for me to understand with my intellect than E=mc². But the effort of the spirit it takes to apply it — that’s intense. Believing this truth requires me to depend on him, because without him my life is plumbing the depths of the Mandelbrot set — interesting, beautiful at times, but ultimately unsatisfying — “haven’t I seen this all before?”

Waking the Dead, well, “awakened” me to the truth that my heart is good (once redeemed by the perfection of Christ), and more importantly for me, real. It’s important, and needed to be healed of some pains that made me shove emotion and people and God himself away whenever confronted with them. The deepest eternal truths are not understood by our finite minds, but rather they are discerned by our hearts, which touch the eternal, sense the infinite. I should clarify: the book didn’t really awaken me. Just like 2 + 2 = 4, and just like this journal entry, it spoke of truths that required application to make them meaningful. The application came in the form of prayer, and Jesus revealed places in my heart that were broken. Actually, that’s not quite true either. Jesus initiated the whole process. He had to, because I normally avoided thinking about those broken areas at all costs. But before I came to the section in the book on healing, when I wasn’t reading, the thoughts arose, with the feeling that he was bringing them - not to punish me, but to prepare me for healing.

And the book then was merely a filter for truths contained in scripture. “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” (Psalm 147:3). Jesus quoting Isaiah:

For this people’s heart has become calloused;
       they hardly hear with their ears,
       and they have closed their eyes.
Otherwise they might see with their eyes,
        hear with their ears,
        understand with their hearts
and turn, and I would heal them.

It is important that Jesus doesn’t say “forgive them” or “instruct them”. He offers healing for the calloused heart, if we turn. My problem, which the book has helped me see through, is that I have believed the lie that there is no heart. It’s a key lie in the strategy of Truth’s enemy to destroy God’s creation. I was willing to agree with this lie because it seemed to offer protection from the fact that my heart was broken. It needed healing. But covering the wounds without healing just allowed them to fester. These were things I had never really taken to Jesus, and he asks for all of us. When I did, I experienced freedom and a weight lifting off my soul that I had carried for years. Relief and hope came hand in hand, along with greater intimacy with Jesus; I could trust him with more. And what I trusted him with was a part of my heart that I had held back. It’s a great step in the process of becoming whole, in the process of becoming truly alive. Jesus promises to make us fully alive, and deep down, that is what we’re all looking for.

This is also when I came up with independently, and thus understood (just like in school, huh?), the unapplied truth aphorism. This process, this journey, wasn’t about learning the rules, figuring out the infinite ways I can optimize my path through this fractalized universe, and then trying harder to make it “work.” The step I had just taken was a baby one, and I had a lifetime of walking with Jesus yet to go. For in the end, the ultimate Truth, the one science and religion and all human endeavor are getting glimpses of — the ultimate, infinite Truth, unfathomable in our finite minds — that infinite Truth is God himself. I just went to look up the scripture I wanted to use here, and suddenly understood more about the passage, about doubting Thomas, about why we need Jesus and not some other road, and my faith in Jesus was confirmed more deeply as I looked at why Jesus said this: “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you really knew me, you would know my Father as well. From now on, you do know him and have seen him.” He was answering Thomas’s question: “Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?” I fear that the truth that touched my heart depends on my history with Jesus, and I can’t give it justice here. But it boils down to this: in order to know truth, we must know Jesus. And knowing Jesus isn’t saying a particular prayer, or attending church on Sundays, or becoming a missionary. These things may be expressions of getting to know him. But knowing him is a relationship, the most intimate relationship possible, and one which can make our other relationships come alive, our work come alive, our heartache cease. And thus it isn’t a ruleset, and it doesn’t have an end. It’s a lifelong friendship with the God of the universe, who entered our world to talk to us, to heal us, to forgive us, and to love us. “He is the image of the invisible God” (Col. 1:15) and through him we “have life, and have it to the full!” (John 10:10). Gospel means “Good news” and good news it is indeed! Praise God!