Worry Too Much

Hey Everyone,

I wonder what the Israelites felt like the day before they started marching around Jericho. I wonder how many of them dreaded getting out of bed knowing what they had to do but more importantly what God had to do for everything to work out ok.

I think we have eliminated that problem by not expecting God to do anything. We have relegated him to the impotent and replaced his true presence with something that looks very similar to the fates or maybe Doris Day singing que sara sara. We do that because it gets us off the hook. If the culture gets worse we say it’s God’s will. If the church goes to hell we say it’s God’s will. We have in essence made the fall God. We have normalized bondage and called it freedom. And as long as nothing ruffles our feathers we trudge a long through the suburbs of hell with a smile on our face and no expectations for God to do anything out of the ordinary.

Our theology has relegated God actually doing something on this planet to 2000 years ago and only through physical Jesus and his twelve goons who were obviously more than human because well God actually did things through them. But here, now in the 21st century we’re just folks, plain ordinary humans with words on a page and a marketing plan and God is not going to intervene and disrupt the everyday workings of the evolutionary process. We do church the way we do business only if we do it right we don’t have to actually produce anything except comfortable surroundings and we end up with more profit and perks cause we don’t have to pay taxes.

I write all of this because I’m sick of doing life this way and I’m scared to death to change. That’s why I started off talking about Israel. They are our example. It would be nice to have a copy of the diary of the biggest loser in Israel during the days before and after Jericho. I don’t want to read anything from the super heroes of faith. I can’t relate to them. I need a word from the losers of faith – people that had faith enough to go on the walk but were looking over their shoulder every other minute to see if they were going to get killed or not. Such a document might not be all that helpful but it would be comforting.

What would it mean, what would the consequences be if we stopped doing the business of church and started expecting God to actually do something in our midst? What would it mean if we were to walk around Jericho? Would it end up like we were fighting AI instead?
You see I’m caught between the horns of a dilemma. Last week I was unbelievably blessed by the outcome of our Solemn Assembly. God blessed us with a unity and a building up that really blew me away. But getting there was filled with anxiety. Would God show up? Would this whole thing blow up in my face? Would it be reveled that I don’t have a clue what God is doing? (or myself for that matter).

Well, thankfully he did show up. And unthankfully, now I have found myself being hyper vigilant about making sure that it continues. (Like I can do anything about that) I wrote my sermon for next week on Monday. It is a powerful sermon. It is a risky sermon because it calls the people to act and calls God to do something. It expects God to be the God of the church and the church to be the functioning body of Christ. It expects visible results that would be known by everyone that attends our church and by a large number of people in Jericho. It expects walls to come down.

Two days later I’m starting to hedge my bets. I’m wanting to play it safe. But playing it safe won’t help the people who cannot make it with regular 21st century ‘don’t get better just pretend’ church. You have to be a good liar to make it in that kind of a church. Some people’s lives force them to be honest about the condition of their hearts. I was hugged by one of those big burly manly hearts on Sunday night til I thought my ribs would break and my lungs collapse. I was thanked by a young woman who has spent her life being a door mat for men with really muddy shoes. I heard a man in his sixties talk about a unity that he had never experienced before.

I can’t play it safe anymore. But I am scared to death not to. It’s one thing to say that the bible is true. It is another thing to say arise and walk. I’m tired of giving cripples bibles and orthopedic shoes while saying read this as you limp your way to heaven. I’m tired of pretending to hand out good news when it’s not really all that good because the benefits don’t kick in until after your life insurance policy pays off. I’m tired of people knowing the scriptures but living their lives in bondage and making excuses for God not doing anything to set them free. “Oh it’s alright Grace is sufficient.” Sufficient for what? Keeping you in bondage to sin and its curse for your whole life? The thing that is called grace these days is nothing more than the true opiate of the masses. The modern day church, not Christianity, is the real opiate of the masses. We have everybody so doped up over words of truth that they don’t even feel the pain of bondage.

Truth is not enough. Truth alone will land you in hell. It is Truth applied to your life that matters. It is the truth and the spirit combined that saves. That is where real worship is to be found. The God of Scripture is only the one true God when he acts like the God of scripture. If your God can’t or won’t act to deliver you from bondage then he is not the God of creation.
The true God, the real God keeps his promises. The ONE TRUE God of Scripture ACTS in the midst of History. If we will humble ourselves then He promises to act. He promises to heal our land.

I want you to understand something: I have given up on our country ever changing in my life time. I have given up on my state changing in my life time. I’m not so sure about the cities I associate with changing either. I have finally begun to understand that if God is going to heal anything it has to begin with my congregation. If God Can’t or Won’t bring healing to my congregation then there is no hope for anything else.

Unless God allows the Nation of Immanuel Baptist church (populations 35 on a real good Sunday) to be discipled and healed then nothing else really matters; at least in the world I occupy. There is no hope. But if the walls of bondage do come down, if the broken hearted do get healed, if the promises of God do begin to manifest themselves then the rest of the communities that we are a part of had better watch out because real good news travels at the speed of light.

I have really big dreams: I want to see ONE life transformed. To be honest, that would be all that it would take to get the ball rolling. I want to see one life completely and radically transformed by the hand of God, without any outside help – no drugs, no rehab, no counseling, no home makeover, no jenny craig, or Oprah. I want to see one life changed and stay changed. And then I want to sit back and watch that change ripple its way through the community, the state, and the nation.

I want that but I am scared to death to head in that direction because it means God has to be all those things that the book says about him. If somebody would just prove to me that the book isn’t true I’d be off the hook. I could give up being good. I could hide in a bottle. I could revel in the pursuit of meaningless until the cops put a bullet in me but they can’t and they won’t and so I am left with the horns of dilemma on either side of me.

I will probably take the leap on Sunday. I may regret it on Monday or I may be pleasantly surprised and God may show up, again. I will leave you with the words of the best poet you have never heard of: Mark Heard.

It's these sandpaper eyes It's the way they rub the luster from what is seenIt's the way we tell ourselves that all these things are normalTill we can't remember what we meanIt's the flicker of our flames It's the friction born of livingIt's the way we beat a hot retreat And heave our smoking guns into the river

Sometimes it feels like bars of steel I cannot bend with my hands
Oh - I worry too much
Somebody told me that I worry too much

I pray that’s true.

May you taste, the taste of real grace today and not the “I can’t believe it’s not butter” substitute.

Brad