Poison

We discussed in Religion in America today the fact that some Pentecostals in the early 20^th century decided they were going to handle snakes, drink poison, heal people, and dance around quite a bit as a response to the movement of the Holy Spirit inside of them. They took this from Mark 16:18. You know, choosing what to take literally. I have no personal semi-objection except to say that snake handling sounds just about as silly as skydiving (can be) to me, because you decide on one thing that is going to take extreme life or death trust in the Lord, unlike your simple walk around the park or a nightly cozying into bed. Sometimes we itch to know God more, and we feel limited by our comforts. Even further than that, I’ve noticed, we feel limited by our theology – our notions of truth.

I think the Pentecostals got restless. God was too boxed in, and they pulled Him out of that box just like they did the rattlesnakes. The sort of weird part is that this makes other people angry and divisive. The weirdest part that I’m starting to see is how much of our pride is dictating our love and worship of God. This is not a shocking statement, and it’s no wonder some of us are staying up late at night pondering how the heck we got here and what we’re supposed to do to get out of this pattern. On one hand, we yearn for the sort of tolerance that Jesus had toward people. On the other hand, we aren’t Jesus, and we want to separate ourselves from sin. We dance along that line between bigotry and acceptance – often questioning if we’re even doing any of this right. We desperately try to cling to the Gospel because that is Truth, but in our efforts to grow and understand the Lord, we find ourselves separating from not only non-Christians but even our brothers and sisters in Christ. At freshman group last night, our little study book for Mark asked us how we think we can approach people with the Gospel message, knowing how Jesus approached people. There were some blank stares.

Because as much as we want to proclaim Jesus as Savior because he is and that’s amazing, I don’t think we can do it like him. I think he did it already, and our job isn’t so much to follow in some fashion of mimicry but rather just to follow. We read last night about Jesus explaining the purpose of him speaking in parables. He did it so that what he said was hard to understand. What? Jesus didn’t want us to understand everything?

“No, O people, the LORD has told you what is good, and this is what he requires of you: to do what is right, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God (Micah 6:8).”

Humilityhumilityhumility

I don’t think I can love enough. My rabbit trails toward truth, more often than not, are restraining my ability to love others. I’m reading J.I. Packer’s Knowing God right now, and he discusses this issue between knowing of God as opposed to knowing about God. To know of God is to have that relationship with God, but it’s an awful lot easier to know about God and think we’re actually seeking God through that.

Looking back over all of what I just wrote, it is all way too pedestal-y. I don’t know how to change that, but I would like to note that I know I’m not any real authority on anything. There is pride dripping through my words even now, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. I can’t tell you how to properly seek God, because I suck more at that, I believe, than anyone I know. Just go back to summer-fall of 2009 on this blog to see that. But when I see and feel hurt and notice a great disconnection and division among both non-Christians and Christians alike, I no longer want to follow my instincts and separate myself from that angst. That only perpetuates the problem. People have been separating for ages. I believe pursuing God puts one in the middle of all of this division and turns a blind eye to these ridiculous notions people cling to as truth worth hating and judging over. I wish that were easier, but Jesus told me he intended it not to be. Oh, grace.