Here is a truth that is so hard to comprehend and internalize: we are free from the Law, free from the spiritual consequences of sin and free from eternal death. Oh, in our humanness there is a tendency to want to go back to what we have known, even though it is a yoke of slavery, burdensome and exhausting. This is the inevitable debilitating failure of striving through self-effort. We are told to stand firm against that. Jesus wants us to experience and enjoy our freedom in him. This is what he has for us because of what he has lovingly done on our behalf. Nothing we can do beyond accepting his love will cause him to love us more, make us more righteous, bring us closer to him, ensure our eternal life--nothing. He did it all and it is enough.
During my time in my original church I twisted verses and their meanings into verbal and contextual pretzels to make them say what the teaching of the church was. My desire to be intellectually honest chipped away at much of the teachings. Finally, only a very few teaching remained but they were really being held on to for the sake of not completely letting go of the church. Finally, when my struggle of trying to blend the gospel of grace with the remaining law became obviously futile, I had to make the hard decision to leave.
So, when our acquaintance from our former denomination discovered we were no longer part of it, her reaction was very understandable. Paula and I were heavily invested in the church growing up and people could reasonably expect we would never leave, especially for theological reasons. While it may have seemed sudden to some, it was a many years’ long journey. Here’s a sketch of how it happened.We all have significant questions for which we seek reasonable answers. Is there a God? If so, what is God like? What does God have to do with me? Where/how do we find answers to these and more similar questions?
Getting together around the campfire in the evening was usually a time of singing and listening to someone speak about life and God. Some of these times were good contemplative opportunities to think about who I was and why I was here--the big questions we can’t help but encounter as we’re growing up. Other times were not so peaceful. Like sitting through a miserable talk that was a judgmental, guilt-inducing manipulation of the heart. Looking back, it seemed a bit like spiritual abuse. The idea in both cases was to help us behave like perfect, mistake-free kids who would make our parents, our church and, of course, God very proud.
Sometimes he would reference the OT law to explain what the spirit of the law was. Like in the Sermon on the Mount. That was even harder to hear--it was tough enough to try to keep all of the law perfectly in practice and then Jesus would take it to the intended level--the spirit of the law. The point in all of his teaching was to set up his main message: God has some really good news. Because of his great love, God would extend grace toward his human creation. He was providing a way for them to have an eternal love relationship with him and each other.
Wow. Just wow. What a moment! This is heart-pounding kind of stuff. They had been taught that a Messiah would come. They knew this scripture was a prophecy of that promise. Here he was, right in front of them, claiming it for himself. That takes some on-the-spot heavy-duty processing.
The way the dots of scripture and logic were connected said a lot about the person doing the connecting. Some were like a true journalist who tried to let the evidence take them wherever it would and that conclusion was the truth. Others were more of the agenda journalist variety and seemed to have a desired outcome that shaped their informational journey.Often the starting premise was faulty. But blindness of it prevailed since it wasn’t even noticed by any of those participating in the discussion. The same assumptions could be naively made by all because, well, we grew up with them and didn’t even realize the assumptions even existed, let alone were faulty.
Growing up in our church we sang a lot of guilt-inducing songs. I especially remember those about work and working. One song was called To the Work. Another was Work For the Night Is Coming. I don’t know the author’s intent in those songs, but I know they were used to shame and guilt us into doing more of whatever the leadership thought was needed. While they referenced evangelism or good deeds, they certainly didn’t convey the New Testament message of resting in the grace and freedom Jesus provides.
But what about the inside--the deepest core of us where our being is most intensely personal? Where we search for significance and meaning to our existence? How do we deal with the negative experiences there? Especially when there is no one else who can duplicate the personal me?
So finally I just had enough and I realized you have to go one way or the other because you're talking about this in your mind and focusing and ruminating on this over and over and over and over. There's nothing new going on here.
I was beginning to imagine his insulting response. The class was utterly silent and it seemed like the full weight of his scornful reply would be felt that much more. Finally, he spoke. Just one word: “absolutely”.
I knew, if there was any chance at all for us to get back together, it was now or never. As we slowly rode toward the meeting place, I gently placed my right hand on her left knee and said to her, Paula, I love you. Nothing like putting her on the spot. After a brief pause she said, I know. Someday I’ll know what to do with that.
Paula: Just because we're Christians, doesn't mean we don't feel the full impact of traumatic experiences. And what I was walking out on a daily basis was wondering if I would have you the next day or the next week. I remember trying so hard and asking God often. I don't want to look back and have squandered all this time by only being sad. I want to embrace every sweet moment that I can have with my husband right now.
Paula: I think the podcast that begun this series of conversations that we've been having, you were talking about the heart attack in 2017. And you said that I received a phone call and I was left hanging and that I would get to tell my story one of these days. So I guess that's today.Yep. I left you hanging on a very short call. And all you knew is that there was something serious going on again.Paula: Yeah, I was with my friend Maria.
Oh, it's so crazy. It's not like God was sitting there smacking his head going, really? What are you thinking? I think that's how we look at ourselves. We put that pressure on ourselves. But God's not doing that. He's just kind of like, well, I knew this was your process, and I got all the time that you need.
History is a great teacher--if we are willing to be students. In the last episode of Grace Intersect, my wife, Paula, was left hanging on the other end of a very brief phone call--a call she always knew could come, yet trying to live as if it wouldn’t. The lessons of history, when learned, are hard to ignore.
I had to make a decision. Did I try to stay alive, or let the darkness consume me? I thought if I could somehow find the strength to open my eyes, I would live. If I chose to not open my eyes, my body and life would be covered with the blackness from which there would be no recovery in this life.
. . . after I got in trouble, though, it was a, it was the realization that . . . more that I was OK, not that it was OK that I did that, but I was OK. That God loved me. He met me where I was in that jail cell. He . . . the grace was again overwhelming and it provided that launch pad for me to move past guilt and shame and holding that anger. And I could move on and . . .
This was an attempt to mix ingredients of the law into the provision of grace. To do this indicates a very poor understanding of God's grace. For some reason, it seems like God’s grace is so very hard to wrap our heads around. We, as humans, are wired for qualifying and quantifying. Almost all aspects of life are charted and measured. So, it is very natural for us to think that, even when it comes to grace, there must be things that require measuring the quality and quantity.
In the early to mid-seventies, when I was in my mid-twenties, I had occasion to attend a screening of a movie called Marjoe at California State University, Sacramento. It was a documentary of a child evangelist who, in his twenties decided to expose his experience of manipulation in the Pentecostal movement. It was introduced by Marjoe, himself.What impacted me while watching the movie were feelings of anger, shame, embarrassment, and frustration. My church roots allowed me to picture myself at some of his events. The tent revivals and sawdust trail were familiar to me.