I consider Daniel to be one of the most intriguing people in the Bible. Maybe it's because the lion's den story is one of the few that stuck with me from my youth. I didn't "get it" or even know the context of it, but it stuck with me. A believer that was thrown in to a room with a bunch of hungry lions because of his faith and the lions didn't eat him.
These days it is that I can't seem to find record of his sin or failures. Almost all the other old and new testament heroes from Adam to Abraham to Moses to David to Peter to Paul have at least one incident recorded in the Bible that is evidence of them "falling short" or "stumbling". Daniel is a Jew in exile during a time when God has turned from the Jews. Most of his "fellow believers" are living lives of total compromise, choosing to blend in with their captors rather then live an obedient life. On a number of occasions, Daniel makes the tough choice to remain uncompromising about his faith and actions even if it looks like it will cost him his life. If there were truly "righteous" men in the Bible, men who can earn their way into God's favor by their own fearless actions, Daniel would be near the top of that list.
Then I get to Daniel 9 and 10. Daniel is praying for a return from exile. He is praying for God's people. The way his prayers are worded, he repeatedly says "we have sinned and done wrong." He appeals to God not on account of his own righteousness, faithfulness, or accomplishments, but appeals to God's mercy and forgiveness while lumping himself in with all the others that have turned from God and earned this exile.
If I put myself in Daniel's shoes, I'd likely try to separate myself from the others around me...I'd still pray for them... but from a distance. I would also remind God of all the times I had been faithful. My prayer would be more like "God, it's me Daniel. You remember me, the one that you saved from the lion's den because I refused to put any other God before you. I'm the one you blessed with health and fitness because I refused to compromise my purity. God, I'm coming to you pure and devoted on behalf of my brothers, your people, who are wicked and have sinned. I'm coming to you on their behalf to plead for mercy and a return from exile..." You get the picture. I've earned some favor in His eyes, right? That way maybe God would at least recognize that I'm not like "those people" and might still deliver me from captivity while everyone remains enslaved. Like maybe the all knowing forgot that I was a captive. That sounds kind of like the prayer of the Pharisee in the new testament when he says "God, I thank you that I am not like that tax collector over there..." Ouch.
But Daniel doesn't do that. He knows better. He knows that God is Holy, He is set apart. Daniel knows that no matter how hard we try and what we accomplish, we ALL are sinners compared to God. No human under his own strength can compare to God's perfection and beauty. As someone who had numerous glimpses into the invisible world of God through visions and visitations, Daniel would have a unique understanding of this. Even when angels tell him "you are highly esteemed" (9:23) Daniel considers himself unclean and unworthy. It's not because he hates himself and it isn't false humility. On the contrary, it's because he understands Holiness, he understands how far even the best examples of mankind are below the heavenly realm.
Daniel makes me question myself. I often talk to God as if He's "merely" a friend. I know there is scripture to support the fact that we can talk to God this way, but I think it's important to remember He is so much more than that. That we are so much less than worthy to be His friend. The fact that He allows that kind of relationship is another testament to His grace and His love. To equate a relationship with Him to a trusted high school buddy is to minimize His holiness, majesty, might, and omnipotence. As nice as it is to talk to God as I would a human friend, it is the times I approach with humility and reverence that I actually feel the closest to Him. It's when I approach Him in a way that more fully acknowledges who He is instead of how I would like Him to be that things get deep and that the earth moves.
Daniel got it. Do I?
Friday, December 3, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
I can't keep it all in
I've been leading worship for about 8 months now. The story of how that came to be is pretty amazing and unlikely, but it's for another day.
The first thing I had to do when I began leading worship was to submit. The act of leading worship became an exercise in continual submission. I am not a gifted musician. I don't have a great voice. The only way God can be glorified by my strumming and singing is if He is doing it through me. And He does. When I let Him.
Recently a song found me that was new to us. We've been working on it a few weeks and the song has taught me new facets of worshiping God that I didn't know were there previously. As a result, this song energizes me. Because the act of singing it and playing it tunes my heart to God's pitch, I feel like I have an open conduit for the Holy Spirit to rain down into me. I don't want to stop, I want to get my fill and let it overflow. We have a count-down timer before we start the worship set and I could hardly contain myself watching it tick down. It was in slow motion. I needed to praise my King! It's time for worship! Even though "that song" wouldn't be played for another 45 minutes, I needed to shout and sing and glorify the Lord. I almost felt like there was a crackling energy emanating sparking between me and the guitar and on up to heaven.
I used to have brief moments like this. Not so deep or profound, but a taste of what being touched by the Holy Spirit was like. It used to leave me drained. We called it the Holy Hangover. An encounter with God was always followed by an emotional valley. It seemed inevitable. Now I don't think that's the case. When we allow Jesus to make our hearts new again, they are like a new wineskin. They can hold more than before, they can hold a different type of liquid than before. I feel like He's made my heart new again. It's not broken like it was before. When it's filled, it doesn't all spill out immediately, leaving an empty void. Or maybe it is broken, but instead of brief moments of refilling my heart has learned how to constantly seek Him out, to constantly replenish from the source itself. Where I previously thought that humans need a recovery period from our spiritual encounters, maybe the opposite is actually true. Maybe it's that we're more whole when we strive to never cease these encounters.
Our God is Healer, awesome in power...
The first thing I had to do when I began leading worship was to submit. The act of leading worship became an exercise in continual submission. I am not a gifted musician. I don't have a great voice. The only way God can be glorified by my strumming and singing is if He is doing it through me. And He does. When I let Him.
Recently a song found me that was new to us. We've been working on it a few weeks and the song has taught me new facets of worshiping God that I didn't know were there previously. As a result, this song energizes me. Because the act of singing it and playing it tunes my heart to God's pitch, I feel like I have an open conduit for the Holy Spirit to rain down into me. I don't want to stop, I want to get my fill and let it overflow. We have a count-down timer before we start the worship set and I could hardly contain myself watching it tick down. It was in slow motion. I needed to praise my King! It's time for worship! Even though "that song" wouldn't be played for another 45 minutes, I needed to shout and sing and glorify the Lord. I almost felt like there was a crackling energy emanating sparking between me and the guitar and on up to heaven.
I used to have brief moments like this. Not so deep or profound, but a taste of what being touched by the Holy Spirit was like. It used to leave me drained. We called it the Holy Hangover. An encounter with God was always followed by an emotional valley. It seemed inevitable. Now I don't think that's the case. When we allow Jesus to make our hearts new again, they are like a new wineskin. They can hold more than before, they can hold a different type of liquid than before. I feel like He's made my heart new again. It's not broken like it was before. When it's filled, it doesn't all spill out immediately, leaving an empty void. Or maybe it is broken, but instead of brief moments of refilling my heart has learned how to constantly seek Him out, to constantly replenish from the source itself. Where I previously thought that humans need a recovery period from our spiritual encounters, maybe the opposite is actually true. Maybe it's that we're more whole when we strive to never cease these encounters.
Our God is Healer, awesome in power...
Beautiful Souls
Today I got to spend a few hours with a brother-in-Christ that I have been longing to reconnect with. He's from Columbia (South America) but currently lives in Naples, FL. Connecting with him tonight was an unexpected answer to a non-specific prayer.
I seem to have a special place in my heart for people from other countries. When I run into Juan from Columbia, or my friend Rafael from Brazil, or Kevin from Jamaica, or the guys at Crowderfest that were from so far south in Texas that English wasn't their native language (Ricardo and Noe)...every time I encounter them, I see God in them, I see the beauty of their homeland and their culture, the love of their families, and the incredible tapestry that God has woven by creating this diversity that sometimes scares us. These encounters make me long for more. I want to converse with them in their language, to see their homeland with their eyes, to worship our God alongside them in a way that transcends all human barriers. My heart breaks for the people that can't see this beauty. I'm so thankful to God that He allows me to see this and connect with all these beautiful souls.
I seem to have a special place in my heart for people from other countries. When I run into Juan from Columbia, or my friend Rafael from Brazil, or Kevin from Jamaica, or the guys at Crowderfest that were from so far south in Texas that English wasn't their native language (Ricardo and Noe)...every time I encounter them, I see God in them, I see the beauty of their homeland and their culture, the love of their families, and the incredible tapestry that God has woven by creating this diversity that sometimes scares us. These encounters make me long for more. I want to converse with them in their language, to see their homeland with their eyes, to worship our God alongside them in a way that transcends all human barriers. My heart breaks for the people that can't see this beauty. I'm so thankful to God that He allows me to see this and connect with all these beautiful souls.
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