As you may have guessed, I am not a consistent blogger. I don't know how people write all the time. If I have nothing to talk about I can't just make something up...at least nothing that I think would be read-worthy.
I established last post that I have been burned out for a while. The result is that I am a bit of a mess... and not a hot one. Here's the third thing you should know about me, I like to be in control. I'm not an alpha male but I like to control my environment so as to feel safe. I imagine most people have some kind of social control mechanism. Mine is to stay silent with people I don't know- what I don't say they can't judge me with. Of course in my head I am judging them like a mad man. With people I do know I have carefully measured who I can be around them so as to remain in control of my own self-worth. It's an efficient system but it is just that, a system.
Growing up, I liked that I had a strong sense of right and wrong. It grounded me. If someone swore, lied or stole I knew what they were doing was wrong. Here's the problem though. Well, the first problem. I didn't just judge their behaviours, I would judge the person for those behaviours. For example, little Johnny stole drink from the store, the stealing was wrong but Johnny was now a person who shouldn't be trusted or followed because he was a thief. Here's my point- I mistook behaviour for character.
There have been key people in my life who have done some really hurtful things. Usually you work through it and move on but sometimes its an action that carries extra significance. It's a behaviour that carries extra special judgment. It's the action that you abhor, it's the behaviour that can only have one conclusion. A person that does this, deserves the due penalty for their crime. I think everyone has an unforgivable sin. For me it was always adultery. I couldn't comprehend such an act. A commitment was a commitment and a relationship was sacred, intimate and chaste.
What does all of this have to do with control? Strong systems, strong external frameworks make me feel safe. They help me to approach life with a sense of knowing what is what and how things should be. They help feel in control of my surroundings. More accurately, they help me feel in control of my own actions in my surroundings. I think that is a part of why Christianity was appealing to me as a child. Outside of the boring talks and atonal singing, I liked that it gave very simple and practicable ways to approach life. Something happened though. I found that I really loved this God my systems pointed me to. In fact, I loved that I could find passion in expressing a sense of commitment to a God who I could know sacredly, intimately and with chastity. My world of systems, of clearly defined actions and behaviours, enabled a safe way to approach an infinite God. It was marvellous.
Here's the problem. My systems became the basis of my relationship and my behaviours became its currency. When I behaved well, I expected reward. When I behaved poorly, I expected punishment. This is not an unusual approach but it is an unhelpful one. Any relationship that is based upon the behavioural standard of its participants is doomed to fail. Not because these behaviours are unimportant but because inevitably one party will not be able to live up to the expectation of the other. This is what happened between God and myself.
After a few years of service I expected reward. God did not follow through on a very specific part of this demand. My reaction to this unmet expectation was that I found my heart flailing and I broke the covenant. I took what was sacred, intimate and chaste (at least in my mind) and tainted it with the brush of broken, faithless behaviour. I lacked the commitment required of a covenantal person. For want of a better way of putting it, I had become an adulterer towards God.
As a result of the judgment I had placed upon adulterers (and now myself), all of my systems failed, my control disappeared and my self-worth fractured. I couldn't relate to God or others because I had no safety net. I had no systems that would secure me. But do you want to know the hardest part of the entire process? Not being in control of how other people saw/see me. Being exposed as a man of failed character. Remember, behaviour was character. Trusting a God who hurt me and not taking back control by building new systems.
I think this is why the Lordship of Christ is so important. It's not because he is a megalomaniac who needs to be in charge. I think it is because we can't truly be in a relationship with others when we are playing mind games of control and power. I think that is why Jesus is so confronting to me. He doesn't relate to me through the guise of control. He isn't looking to protect something. He isn't concerned about how he is perceived because he knows that if given the chance he will reveal himself accurately. Jesus doesn't want to be Lord in our relationship because he needs control, he wants to be Lord because we need him to be in order to fully experience the freedom of his acceptance and love.
This is a long one. Sorry about that. My thoughts are not well refined (I write this so as to help me articulate my thoughts more accurately). If you have any thoughts, let me know. I'd be interested to hear your take on it all.
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