"Satan's seduction of our heart always comes in the form of a story that offers us greater control through knowing good and evil rather than the unknowns of relationship." -The Sacred Romance
I got up to run my three miles this morning and my body said, Let's not; I think I'm in hiberation or something. So I made my way to the button that makes the coffee start dripping and looked up to find my copy of The Sacred Romance. This is a book that I return to periodically; however, it's been a while since I've read it. I had placed a piece of paper, as a bookmark, on page 110, so I took that as a hint and started reading/sniffing for what God desired me to hear this morning.
Do I believe that Satan is trying to seduce our hearts? Yes, I do. And I further agree that it comes in the form of a story; a story offering greater control. The question I ask myself there is control of what? The author of those lines (Brent Curtis) lifts a finger and points at "control through knowing good and evil." A story is offered to me, or maybe chapters or paragraphs or even sentences, that paint the boundaries of this is good and that is evil. But the story God offers me is one of moving beyond those categories and trusting him in that incredibly loaded word "relationship."
Now for some of us, that's enough right there for the brain to freeze up and say, Let's not; go run three miles instead. To talk about NOT trying to know good and evil and then talk about trying TO know God is contradictory at best and blasphemous at worst. But that's focusing on the what and there's a word that proceeds that focus in Brent's sentence - control.
Listen as Curtis continues: "Life is gained by appropriating what we can see with our own eyes...Jesus invites us to thirst. Satan invites us to control through performance of one kind or another."
I'm gonna self-reflect here, so if any of you have clearer insight, then please let me know...or at least, pray for me. I run to keep my heart in good shape. I love doing it and I believe God gains pleasure from seeing me run. But if I'm not careful, I can buy into the storyline that consistent exercise gives me some modicum of control in my life; so the question becomes, "Am I running to keep control or am I running because I love it?" "If I stop running, do I feel...out of control?" That's a fine line somedays and I'm sure they blur often. Or do they? If "running" is a goofy example, then forgive me. But maybe that's where it starts; the seduction of our hearts with the things we deem "good" or "evil" and the supposed control we have over them.
One more and the post is over: "When the adversary is involved, the intensity of feelings provoked by the everyday occurrences of life can be compared to gasoline poured on a fire." Everyday occurrences...like running and traffic and paying bills and interacting with people and helping kids do homework and visits from your mother-in-law. The control voice says to end this post with a take away or wrap-up, some kind of concluding thought. But in this moment, I don't know what to say and I won't be seduced.
Hay! Are you talking about ME? Not the Satan part, but the CONTROL part? Loved the last paragraph, especially the reference to the mother-in-law and the need for a kicker ending. It does MY heart good to see you blogging more often. I think THAT is the muscle that cried out for exercise. Bless you, brother!
ReplyDeleteHmm...this is interesting in light of my current storyline. I'm spending a lot of time these days sitting with a therapist, trying to untangle the "good" and "evil" that I met when I tasted the fruit of that so-named tree a couple years ago. When my friendly neighborhood therapist asks, "what is it that you really want?" I've had a hard time answering the question. The obvious answer is, "I want to be healed." I'm sure part of the reason I can't form those words in my mouth is because I don't know what that means. Sure, I can identify many things that are crying out for some sort of repair—my sense of self-worth, chief among them. And I can see quite clearly that there are places where I remain stuck and need to find traction in order to start moving again.
ReplyDeleteBut when I follow the projected healing path forward, I become perplexed. The very thing that led me to such a tangled place was living life as if I had some modicum of control over good and evil. That was, of course, an illusion.
I have never had to trust God more than here in the middle of the tangled web. What does the untangling gain me? Peace? Well, that would be nice, though I am pretty sure God can offer peace in the tangled spaces, too. Hope? Hmm…yeah. Except that hope isn’t a thing at all—it’s a “reaching”. I reach for hope with much more tenacity when it seems distant. Like now. Control? Ah, now we’re teetering precariously on the edge of a paradox. If my healing process is destined to buy me a greater sense of control over my life, am I not essentially right back where I started?
This brings me to the invalid at the pool of Bethesda. Jesus asked him, “what do you want?” I’ve heard many a sermon explaining why Jesus would ask such a seemingly obvious question. Most of the exegesis makes sense to me. I previously blogged on the passage myself, suggesting that Jesus was really asking, “Are you willing to be unrecognizable?” But this scenario, and perhaps hundreds of others not recorded in scripture, begs another question: Did Jesus want the man to be healed? Go ahead, pick up those stones. Get out your “Heretic!” placards so you can march around my house for seven days in protest. I think it’s a fair question.
And it’s also Paul’s paradox, isn’t it? He petitions God often to remove the thorn in his flesh. And God doesn’t. What’s the difference between Paul and the invalid by the pool? It’s interesting that when Jesus runs into the invalid later, after his healing, he offers a caution “not to sin anymore.” This isn’t like the “Go and sin no more!” proclamation Jesus gave the woman at the well. This seems more like a consequential warning. It’s almost as if Jesus is saying “Okay, you got what you wanted, you can walk…but don’t be fooled into thinking this suddenly gives you control over you life.”
Maybe what I’m wrestling with is this very question. Do I want to be healed? Not if it fools me into thinking I have more control over good and evil. Not if it moves me farther from God. Not if it reduces God’s ability to demonstrate his power in my life, and perhaps through me, in the lives of others.
I’m still processing this. Probably will be for a long time to come. Thanks a lot, John.
Or maybe I'll just go for a 3-mile run.