God | Questioning the Answers

The Voice of God

February 21, 2016 By admin Leave a Comment

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Since last fall, I’ve been volunteering in a theology class at a local university. As one of several people facilitating small groups for the class of about 70 freshmen, I was asked this past week to share something that struck me from the current text we’re reading, a book called Dangerous Wonder by Michael Yaconelli.

There were several things from the first few chapters that resonated, from the idea of Jesus being a rule breaker to a whole discussion about the necessity of having a faith that dares to ask questions. For sure, the idea that our questions can make others uncomfortable to the point of silencing the one asking the questions hits very close to home.

But what struck me the most was actually in the introduction, where the author says “There is, deep within all of us, a voice. It speaks to us continuously, knocking on the door of our consciousness. When we are children, the voice is very loud, shattering our awareness with overwhelming clarity… It shouts to us with a whisper… This voice of our childhood is the voice of wonder and amazement, the voice of God…”

It’s a beautiful idea; one that I believe is powerfully true.

He continues, “One sad day, we are aware of an absence. We can no longer hear the God-voice, and we are left with only silence – not a quiet silence but a roaring silence. We did not want to stop hearing God’s voice. Indeed, God kept on speaking. But our lives became louder. The increasing crescendo of our possessions, the ear-piercing noise of busyness, and the soul-smothering volume of our endless activity drowned out the still, small voice of God.”

So we go from living in a space of beautiful and mysterious clarity to an unfortunate pseudo-reality, reeling in a sea of deafening noise and being drowned by life itself.

And finally, “Most of us cannot say when it happened, we only know that it happened. When we became aware of the absence of God’s voice, there were a thousand deaths within us.”

A thousand deaths within us.

A haunting statement. It lingered with me.

As I pondered the notion of God’s voice being drowned out, I realized that for most of my life, it wasn’t busyness, possessions, the noise of life, or endless activity that were my problems, even though I’ve been steamrolled by those things at various times.

For me, religion had drowned out the still, small voice of God.

I didn’t realize it when it was happening, of course, but I can look back and see that I allowed doctrine, dogma, revered or respected spiritual leaders, and even scripture to drown out the voice of God in my life.

The idea of scripture taking precedence over the voice of God in one’s life can be a tricky thing in evangelical America, where the Bible isn’t merely affirmed as critical, but is often revered as the ultimate authority.

For example, a few years ago, I was sitting in church and the pastor was talking about the need for us to be more in touch with the Spirit, but he promptly insisted that the Spirit will never lead us to do something that isn’t “biblical.”

He then urged the importance of relying on the counsel of others to decipher whether the voice of God that we’re hearing is actually the voice of God.

On the surface, that might sound reasonable. I actually adhered to such logic for years, but it’s problematic.

And this kind of thinking has the potential to lead to a thousand deaths within us.

I suspect the reason we can be leery of the voice of God – particularly when others are hearing it – is because we want control. We want to uphold the status quo. We want things to be simple and tidy and to fit into our understanding of what’s true and right and acceptable.

But God doesn’t work that way. If anything is biblical, that is.

Seriously. If we learn anything from the Bible, it should be that the Bible was never meant to be the thing.

Five times in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus starts a teaching with “You have heard that it was said…” In other words, “You have heard that it was biblical…”

And then he goes on to explain how the people had missed the mark and it was time for them to move to a new place of understanding.

Huh? But how can the divinely authoritative Word of God miss the mark?

I love the story in Acts 10 when Peter falls into a trance and has a vision about animals that are impure and unclean. A voice tells Peter to kill and eat, but Peter – being the good, devout Jew that he is – responds with righteous indignation, “Surely not, Lord!”

Peter was responding the way his religion had used scripture to say he should respond. How God expected him to respond.

In modern Christian terms, we could say that he responded biblically to something that was unbiblical. Good for him. Peter/God: one. Satan: zero.

But the story doesn’t end with Peter’s righteous indignation. It ends with a transformation of Peter’s thinking and understanding.

It’s a fantastic representation of our desire to cling to what’s familiar – all the while using the Bible to insist we’re doing what God expects – even though we’re clearly being called to let go of an old way of thinking and move in a new direction.

If anything represents the falsity of the notion that God won’t ever lead us in a direction that’s not “biblical,” it’s the Bible itself.

I encouraged the class of impressionable and good-hearted prospective leaders to always listen for the voice of God and to take great care not to let it get drowned out by anything around them… especially religion.

As I write this, I’m reminded of one of my favorite quotes, which is attributed to thirteenth-century poet and Sufi mystic Rumi. “There is a voice that doesn’t use words. Listen.”

Great advice, Rumi.

Great advice.

Radical Generosity

September 16, 2015 By admin Leave a Comment

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A long time ago in what certainly feels like a galaxy far, far away, I was talking to a pastor of a vibrant, young church and somehow the topic of money came up. He told me that when the offering bags got passed on Sunday mornings, he really wanted to announce, “Put money in if you can and take money out if you need it.”

He hadn’t ever actually done it; his faith wasn’t quite there. Regardless, the very idea really challenged me. Just let someone reach in and take money?

I was used to giving money to church. I was also used to giving money to help meet people’s needs.

But I wasn’t used to the church giving its money to help meet needs.

That’s something I actually saw very little of.

Aside from the obligatory costs of facilities and salaries, money was primarily used to start new churches, hire interns to help convert more people, and put on events meant to bring new people into the fold.

Photo credit: ”target=”_blank”>Hell Judgment(license) — Photo credit: Hell Judgment (license)

The argument was that we were meeting people’s eternal needs. Clearly, saving people’s souls from a post-mortem lake of fire was the most responsible use of funds. And for anyone on the fence about that, there were frequent reminders that Jesus said the poor would always be among us.

So reaching into a bag and taking money out appeared to undermine the most important need. Never mind the fact that it seemed simply irresponsible. What if the person taking the money wasn’t truly in need?

Even though every rational part of me fought against this idea, something deep inside tugged at my heart. It’s as though a still, small voice was saying it was the right thing to do. And yet, I never thought I’d experience it.

Flash forward about 12 years. To when I did experience it. Quite unexpectedly.

A church practicing radical generosity – at the corporate level, though I hate to use that terminology – with no strings attached. No hoops to jump through. No case to be made. No panel required to deem whether a given need is legitimate or the recipient worthy.

Radical generosity where the bottom line is “We’re trusting God.”

It leaves me unsure how to respond.

Just like years before when presented with the idea of taking money from the offering bag, the rigid, Type-A part of me wants to say “No! That’s irresponsible! What if people take advantage? ”

But there’s another part of me – the part that gets goose bumps – that screams “Yes!” What an incredible display of unconditional love. Of trusting God. Of faith.

And yet, this is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.

I’m not going to make blanket statements about radical generosity vs. tight purse strings, as if one was clearly right and one was clearly wrong. The issue of money and church is a complicated one.

But, regardless of right vs. wrong or responsible vs. irresponsible, I began to ponder how the money situation can be a thought-provoking and powerful reflection of the perspectives we hold on God’s love.

Do we believe God’s love is abundant, generous, and available to everyone with no strings attached and regardless of how ugly a person’s situation might be at any given point in time? Does God’s love transcend circumstances and boundaries? Does it reach through the muck and mire to embrace us right where we are?

Or is it tightly controlled and monitored, a contractual agreement of sorts where it’s doled out in its fullness only if a figurative application has been properly submitted with satisfactory answers to essay questions (think “conversion”) and as long as the recipient remains a member in good standing?

I’ve spent most of my life in the second camp, even though I didn’t consciously realize it. I would’ve probably argued otherwise.

In fact, it’s only when confronted with starkly different experiences – the mere idea of a pastor who wants to tell people to reach in and take money from an offering bag and ultimately the sucker punch of a church that actually practices that level of trust and abundant generosity – that I even began to consider that there are two camps.

And for the first time ever, I started to reflect on the irony of having spent much of my life in churches that are far from generous even though they’re made up of generous people.

It’s an incredibly awkward dichotomy.

But I’m thrilled to be leaning into this new experience and allowing it to re-shape my understanding of God and of what’s holy and divine.

And in the process, hopefully I can rise to the challenge of adopting a true heart of radical generosity myself.

Luggage, Rental Cars, and God Winks

August 19, 2015 By admin Leave a Comment

In my last post, I talked about a book I read a while back that introduced me to “God Winks” and the idea that some of the things in our lives – namely the things that seem to be coincidences – might be more than they appear to be. After reading the book, I started to see various events in my own life in a new light and with new possibility.

Part of me wanted to take the logical approach and dismiss the possibility that such coincidences had anything to do with the spiritual realm. After all, I’m familiar with the notion that our brains work in such a way as to create meaning out of seemingly random events and experiences. Plus, my religious background has often made it difficult to consider that God would work in such ways, especially across the boundaries of religion.

But I was reminded of a quote that’s attributed to Albert Einstein. “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”

In addition, I’d found myself being emphatically implored by a number of authors and speakers to look for and expect such miracles, as well as be receptive to the intuitive promptings that I receive.

What does all of this have to do with anything?

Well, a few months ago, my wife and I were discussing details about an upcoming family trip to Disneyland. We needed to get some new luggage, which I wasn’t thrilled about, and I casually mentioned that the last thing I wanted to spend money on as part of this fun trip was luggage. But alas, luggage shopping we went.

We checked a few different places and ultimately found some decent stuff that was very reasonably priced, but I didn’t want to buy anything without checking out some customer reviews first. So that night, I hopped online to do some research and, to my surprise, not only were the reviews great, but the retailer’s online price was 30% less than the in-store price. And shipping was free. Boom! Done.

I always like a good deal, so this made me very happy. As did the rental car that I’d previously secured for our trip, which happened to be about 40% less than all comparable vehicles from other rental agencies.

A couple days later, I had a nagging sense that I needed to check the car agency again. I didn’t give it much thought at first, because I was more than happy with the car and the rate that I’d locked in. But after the prompting persisted, I finally checked.

Lo and behold, the price on the particular class of car that I had reserved was now substantially less expensive for the dates we needed.

I found this extremely peculiar for two reasons: The original price was already a steal and the other car classes hadn’t decreased in price. Peculiar or not, I wasn’t about to pass it up, so I locked in the new price. Actually, this entire thing was peculiar for a third reason: when I went back and checked prices again later, the price had gone back up. Curious, for sure, but I had already secured the lower rate so I went to bed with a smile on my face.

The next morning, I was in the shower and I got an overwhelming sense that I needed to start actively looking for “miracles” in my life. It’s like someone was saying “You’ve been hearing this for long enough, now start doing it.” Instead of just going through my days in a rote fashion, I needed to do so with acute intention and expectation.

I had the sense that I was at risk of missing out, not necessarily on the things going on in my life themselves, but potentially on the meaning or the realization that something bigger is more intimately involved and that things aren’t as random – and certainly not as humdrum – as I might otherwise think.

I think we can all relate to busy minds that are filled with the incessant chatter of unending thoughts. If you’re like me, it can be difficult at times to discern what I should pay attention to and what’s just more chatter. But I’ve been making more of an effort lately to key in and listen.

And something made it very clear that this time I needed to listen.

So I agreed to be more intentionally aware. To be better about looking for meaning.

And then I got a nudge about the rental car.

I went and found my confirmation, looked at the total price, and smiled with gratitude for the screaming deal that it was. But for some reason I felt like that wasn’t enough, like there was something more I needed to see. So after a moment of slightly confused pondering, I decided to pull up the original confirmation and I looked at that total.

A quick attempt at the mental math had me slightly stupefied, so I got the calculator to confirm how much the price had dropped from the first reservation to the second.

And I chuckled.

It was the same amount that we had paid for the two pieces of luggage. No, not to the penny. But to the dollar.

Mere coincidence? A random set of circumstances? Is my brain now attempting to create meaning out of otherwise unrelated events?

Perhaps.

But perhaps not.

Perhaps it was a God Wink, a small reminder that maybe there’s good reason to live as though everything is a miracle.