Experiencing God: Joining God Requires Making Adjustments

"Experiencing God:  Joining God Requires Making Adjustments"
Luke 3:7-17

On Thursday mornings, I eat breakfast out at Rick's with three guys from church.  Rex and Rod and Alan.  We pretty much order the same thing each Thursday morning.  I don't know why the waitress, who is as tall as I am when I'm sitting down, asks what we want.  It's usually the same.  When our plates come they are like a Rorschach Ink Blot Test, telling you something about our personalities.  I won't tell who, but one of us orders just three egg whites.  Or oatmeal.  It isn't hard what that plate says about him.

Rod and Rex have to get to work earlier than Alan and I, so after they're gone to unlock doors or pick up donuts, Alan and I are left to have another piece of an ongoing conversation that's become a great part of our Thursday mornings.  We talk about the great questions of life.

Lately, Alan and I have been talking about change.  Can we really change, or are we stuck with the accumulation of all the choices we've made in life up to this point?  We've been talking about whether change is difficult or easy.  Or even doable.  Can a person really change, significantly?  We've been talking about, if change is doable, how quickly can we make a change--shift the course of our lives if we were to so choose?  Can we change with the snap of our fingers, or is change more like shifting the course of an aircraft carrier at sea:  a maneuver that has to happen in a wide arc turn that takes great distance and time?  Is change really easy or really hard?

And it's not just about Alan and I as individuals.  Can we bring about change in a business?  Can the mission of the business change, and is it possible to get everyone on board with that shift?  The same is true with the church.  Can a congregation change in terms of what's been happening in the long history of that congregation?  Can a congregation that has a 100+ year history, and has thereby created a certain DNA, change that DNA so that we are church differently?

It's interesting to me, that in our conversation about change, Alan and I never question or discuss whether change should happen.  I think both of us assume that change is something that has to happen at strategic times in our lives.  If we don't change we will stagnate, atrophy, get stuck in ruts that are detrimental to our professional or personal lives.  Sometimes life forces us to change with some catastrophic event, or illness, or diagnosis.  But most of the time it's just a certain antsy-ness that gets into our spirits, and we realize we've got to do something different.  Be someone different.  Be a business different.  Be a church different.

One of the problems, when facing change, is we end up sabotaging ourselves.  We want change, we decide to make changes, either personal or professional, then we see what it's really going to take.  We begin backpedaling.  We sabotage our intentions, and end up just staying the way we are.  It's easier.  We think it takes less energy to just stay the same, but I think we don't realize how hard it is to tread water in the ocean of our sameness, because we've been doing it so long.

The question we have to ask ourselves is, what's behind this antsy-ness to make a change in our lives?  Or rather, Who is behind this antsy-ness.  It's my estimation that God is the one who puts the ants in our pants, creating just the right amount of anxiety to get us thinking about making some personal changes.  When we first get to know Christ, we understand that God accepts us as we are.  But we also quickly understand that God wants us to make some changes.  The more we are around God, the more we find out what needs to be changed, what needs to be worked on in the way we are living.  Sometimes those changes are minor tweaks.  Other times a minor tweak won't do--even though that's what we try to negotiate with God.  Instead, God wants us to make a major shift in who we are as a person, a business, a church.

As we begin to understand the changes God wants us to make, we begin to ask ourselves the kinds of questions Alan and I have been talking about.  How much can we change?  How quickly does God want us to make this change, and is that doable?  Do we want to change, or do we want to just keep walking in place, getting no where--and even though we're not getting anywhere, we're too comfortable getting nowhere.  Are we going to get up and get moving with change, or are we going to drag our feet?  Are we going to keep making the same old sad excuses, or are we going to allow God to energize us about new possibilities?  Are we going to let God work on us or not?

I'm not sure about some of the changes God may want you as individuals to make.  As I get to know you better and better, I see some things I think could be worked on by a number of you.  I certainly see some changes our church needs to make if it's going to continue to exist over the next 25 years.

For the remainder of this message, I'm going to introduce you to a book that can help you devotionally wrestle with this whole thing about making changes.  As a book, it is probably the second most read book besides the Bible.  It has helped people make the kinds of changes in their lives that God may desire.  The name of the book is The Imitation of Christ, by Thomas a' Kempis.  It was written in the early 1400's.  No one knows if Thomas a Kempis even existed.  All we know is we have this body of Christian devotional work that has become the second most beloved book in the world, next to the Bible.

I'm going to throw a few excerpts from the book up on the screen, and talk about each of them for a few minutes.  As we go through these, think about our change questions and if these intersect with where you're living.  Think about the kinds of changes you'd like to make as a child of God.

Here's the first quote:

Deliver me from all evil passions, and heal my sick heart from all earthly inclinations, so that I may be inwardly healed and purged from all inordinate affections and vices, and be made ready and able to love You, strong to suffer for You, and firm to persevere in You.  (Book 3, #5, page 110)

I want you to concentrate on two words in this quote:  "passions" and "affections."  The ancient monks thought and talked a lot about passions and affections.  There is a light side and dark side to these two words.

Here, Thomas a' Kempis is talking about the dark side.  "Evil passions" are what give us a sick heart.  So, in pondering change, you have to ask yourself, first, what are my passions.  What am I really passionate about?  But then, according to Thomas, you have to ask, Are my passions evil or good?  Do my passions build up my heart, and the hearts of those around me, or do my passions break my heart into pieces, as well as the hearts around me?

And thus, what kind of changes do I need to make about my passions?

The kinds of sabotage we work on ourselves in terms of our passions and affections have to do with what the ancient monks called our "wouldings."  Our wouldings are those weak inclinations that lack conviction.  Instead of making great changes in our hearts in The Lord, we, because of our wouldings, only raise ourselves a little above indifference.  "What would happen if I really made some changes?  Would people still like me?  Would it take too long?  Would making changes ask too much of me?  You know how all these "wouldings" get in the way of us making the changes we know we need to make.

Paul said in Romans 12:11, "Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving The Lord."  It's this fervent, vigorous engagement of the heart that keeps the wouldings away, as well as making sure our passions and affections aren't overcome by evil.

The great preacher, Jonathan Edwards, once said in a sermon:
I am bold in saying this, but I believe that no one is ever changed, either by doctrine, by hearing the Word, or by the preaching or teaching of another, unless the affections are moved by these things.  No one ever seeks salvation, no one ever cries for wisdom, no one ever wrestles with God, no one ever kneels in prayer or flees from sin, with a heart that remains unaffected.

If we are going to make the kinds of changes God wants for us, we need to make sure there is fervor for God and the ways of God in our affections and in our passions.  And that's a matter of the heart.  Make sure your heart is impassioned and has the right affection, and the changes will be easier to make.

Here is the next quote from The Imitation Of Christ:

Every perfection in this life has some imperfection attached to it, and there is no knowledge in this world that is not mixed with some blindness or ignorance.  Therefore, a humble knowledge of ourselves is a surer way to God than is the search for depth of learning.  (Book 1, #3, page 35)

Nobody's perfect, is basically what he's saying.  We flip that little two word phrase out, and we laugh.  "Nobody's perfect."  But the tone of our laughter is such that what we really mean is, "Nobody's perfect, except me, and if you'd just do what I said you'd be perfect too."

All of us in this sanctuary think we have an idea of perfection or what is perfect.  The problem is, if we started telling each other what that is, all the ideas would be different.  Because when you come down to it, what we think is the perfect is only what is most comfortable for us--what makes us most comfortable.  It doesn't have anything to do with some objective perfection out there.  Figuring that out is the beginning of wisdom.

So, in this quote, concentrate on the two words "blindness" and "ignorance."  Isn't it easy to see other people's blind spots?   But one of each of our own blind spots is seeing our own blind spots.

When I was out in California, I had just gotten done with a pre-marital counseling session, in which the prospective bride's jaw got increasingly slack.  The prospective groom had talked about how his bride-to-be would get half the refrigerator for her stuff, and sleep in her own room on the other side of his house from his bedroom, and on and on.

I don't know where he got the idea that that's what married life is.  It was a total blind spot in his thinking.  And he was totally ignorant to how he was coming across to his fiancé, and how his talk was affecting her.

They left, and I leaned back in my chair and thought, "Wow! That was amazing."    But then I thought, "I wonder what my blind spots are?  What are the ways and behaviors I have that are kind of whacked out that everyone else sees but I'm totally ignorant to?"  That's when I started praying, as Thomas a' Kempis suggests, for humble knowledge of myself that wouldn't let blind spots and ignorance of my self get in the way of my relationship with God and others  A large part of being willing to make some changes in your life is this kind of humility--a humility that is willing to make a fearless inventory of your self, and allow others in on that inventory to point out things that you might be blind to.

The third quote from The Imitation of Christ is this:

There is, therefore, no peace in the heart of a carnal man or in the heart of a man who gives himself all to outward things.  But in the heart of spiritual men and women who have their delight in God great peace and inward quiet are found.  (Book 1, #6, page 38)

We usually don't describe a person as being "carnal" any more.  A carnal person is someone who has an overactive desire to satisfy some bodily appetite.  It's a passion for the physical, or things that have to do with the body.  If you're struggling with an attraction to pornography, you would be described as carnal.  Or eating disorders.  Or body image issues.

But it's more than just the sensual pleasures.  It has to do, in a more general sense, with things that are worldly and temporary.  It's being overly passionate about outward things, surface things, things of no depth.  It's the quick fix mentality that leaves you unsatisfied and always wanting more stuff, or different stuff, or better stuff.  And once you have it, how long does that sense of pleasure last?  Not very long.

That's why Thomas a' Kempis wisely states that the only cure for being a carnal person is a change of heart.  If you're going to change, really change, then you have to go for the heart.  You can't just make some surface tweaks here and there.  It has to be a change that is deeply internal and heart felt.

The two great terms in this quote are "great peace" and "inward quiet."  I think the main problem of carnal type people is they have so much internal noise, so many internal voices clamoring for attention.  There is no quietness in your heart.  No great peace in your spirit.  It's the pursuit of the external, the surface quick fixes, that create all this internal noise.  Doesn't it seem that those who approach life with the most confidence and composure are those who are doing so from a sense of inner peace?  They've found a quiet place within, a place from which they have taken a constant deep breath, where the noise just cannot encroach.

And, along with that, a' Kempis rightly states it is one's simple "delight in God" that creates that inner peace and quiet, and therefore stops all that noise, and shuts the mouths of all those other voices.  Then comes the great peace and inward quiet.  That's a change I see so many people trying to make:  that stability of quiet and peace that comes from the deep inner self.  But they just can't quite make it.  Maybe that's a change you'd really like to make.



I'm not sure what kinds of changes you would want to make in your walk with God.  Or in your walk with your self.  But I think you do.  I think you know what kinds of adjustments, and shifts you feel would be best.

Would making those changes be easy or hard?  Could you change like that (snap fingers), or will it take time?  And if you know, deep down, what you need to change, and how to change, and how quickly you can change, what's holding you back?