Singing "Be Lifted Up," and My Post-Worship-Contemplations

Though I sang it many times last night, "be lifted up, be lifted higher," I now realize I cannot lift God up any higher than He already is.

When we think of kings on earth, we think of an authority that is ascribed to them by men. We can venerate, elevate, and even magnify the person on the throne, only because he is a human being. He was born of dust just as we were, and therefore, we can raise his status. Perhaps he was born into a royal bloodline and was already born into position: this is only possible because at some time his blood ancestors were given that right by others.

When we think of government, as the Western culture, we think of democracy. We think of our leaders as being in a position that was voted upon by men. Of perhaps we think of corporate giants having power and authority because they have money. We think of leaders as being in authority because they had some sort of quality that leadership needs, otherwise, we will seek out a better, more qualified leader. Those men can be taken out of leadership whether legally or illegally.

In any case, leadership on earth is ascribed by men. In the strictest sense, we put those people in position. And if it was possible to have authority ascribed to a person by God (a.k.a. King Saul and David), it was only because the people asked God for it. God put them in position as a response to the peoples' groaning. They wanted a king like other cultures had. Saul was killed, David was attacked, and new kings took their place.

Contemplate God's actual position--his kingship--over the universe. It is static. It is an authority not ascribed by men. He is king whether we acknowledge that fact or not. And He is at the highest point any being can be. There is none higher than Him in the physical sense, and in the figurative sense. To "lift Him higher" is to what? It is no more possible for an ant to lift me higher than I myself can stand, or even jump. Or perhaps on a flat plane a million ants together can lift me up... But that analogy breaks down because it is an attempt to understand a God that inhabits dimensions we cannot even comprehend. How can we lift up a God we cannot physically perceive? And how can we lift Him up in a spiritual sense if our essence is one with Him?

Perhaps then, I should look at it differently. Perhaps by singing, "be lifted up," I am only referring to our perception of Him; in a way saying, "let our perception of you be lifted up," or, "let your authority be more evident to us, or more important to us," or, "let us value you more." In that case, I can contend with it... But then it would be better for me to just say those things instead.

To say, "be lifted up," is misleading because it gives the impression that we ourselves can lift God to a higher position by praising Him. It implies that we have a part in giving Him authority.

And though it would not be wrong to say, "let me value you more, God," there is a danger that I might think His actual ability to work in my life depends on me, or how  much I allow Him. BUT, His authority in my personal life does not depend on how much I allow Him to have. He has authority despite me. It is better to contemplate Him in the reality of His character than to contemplate Him in relation to me. When I only do the latter, I am diminishing His value in my mind already. How? By thinking that His authority depends on my allowance of it!

I may be asking Him to help me value Him more, but I am already defeating my own purpose if I think I am in control of His authority in my own life. That is not trust/faith. It is self-reliance.

The good thing is that if I am unknowingly in that state, He can show me the way out of it.

His exercising of authority does not depend on me, but He allows me to engage in it with Him because He is loving. He allows me to have a say because He is a gentle God and wants relationship with me. He values my relationship with Him more than He values my perception of Him (though if you read the Bible, you will see that He wants to be perceived [Hosea 6:6], and is the reason why He manifested Himself in human form as Jesus on Earth). When I see Him in that light, my appreciation for Him is intensified because I know what He is capable of, and yet I know He wouldn't harm me because I know how He feels about me. That understanding makes me feel loved and appreciated and it draws me to Him. Because of His restraint, He is irresistible to me.  His power sustains all of life, and His glory is fierce and dangerous, yet in His heart is where I am safe. Because of that, I feel infinitely valued, and utterly fulfilled.

I am in a state of ecstasy when I contemplate Him in His reality as opposed to contemplating Him in relation to my abilities.

Men who have the ability to harm, yet show restraint have always been the most attractive to me and I realize now it is because that is the character of God.

The moment we think we have control over when and where He can operate, God begins to lose His appeal [in our minds]. It becomes a one-way relationship because His actions on earth now depend on us. We become the only one who initiates any interaction. Then after a while we get tired of it, bored, even. We are always the one who must make an effort to engage in the relationship. That is burdensome. God seems uninterested in us. We lose motivation and then our devotion time becomes an obligation, which sucks out all intimacy and life (the same can be applied to marriage). That's when it becomes a religion. Then we see everything in terms of what we are doing as opposed to what God is doing. "Look! I prayed out of desperation as a last resort, and God answered my prayer! Faith means taking action... I took action by saying a simple sentence." The focus is on the fact that you prayed, and not on the fact that God did something. You're now trusting the prayer you prayed--the fact that you said a prayer "that worked"--rather than actually trusting in God. In a sense, you're learning how to "manipulate God" (not that He can be manipulated).

See it for what it is: God loves you as His child and wants to give you whatever you want as long as it doesn't harm your soul. See God's grace in the event, not your effort. But now I am getting off track...

Now that I've said all of this, I must make a disclaimer: I have not said it is wrong to sing, "be lifted up." [I myself sang it wholeheartedly] I have also NOT said that people who sing this are totally misled in their thinking. I am merely pointing out the dangers of what can be perceived and how those perceptions affect us.

Let us desire to know who God is. And may He reveal that to us more fully than ever before.

Self-Imposed Misery. Stop That!

She dragged herself into class and slumped down in her chair. "Why am I so tired?" she whined.
     "Didn't get enough sleep?"
     "No. Ugh. It's work. I work forty hours a week."
     "And how many credits are you taking?"
     "Eighteen" (college students truly know how much work an 18 credit load is: it's more than a 40-hour a week job). I felt very sorry for her.
     "Whaaaat? And you're a vocal major? How...." I thought about how bad my voice sounds when I'm sleep deprived or stressed...
     "I know. And last night I just didn't go to sleep. So I guess that's my own fault."
     "Oh. Sorry. Are you trying to graduate at a certain time? Is that why you are squishing it all in?"
     "Yeah. Next Fall."
     "And you're working a forty-hour a week job? Why?"
     "Gotta pay bills."
     "I see."
     "But, I should be thankful that I have a job. It really is a blessing."

I didn't appreciate her last sentiment, though I offered empathy. I don't like it when people are thankful for dreadful situations. I get it. They are trying to have an attitude of gratitude. But all that does is allow us to accept things that shouldn't be; it keeps us from making changes for the better. There's got to be a cheaper way to live. Get rid of the phone. Sell the car. Get a job downtown. Do something to make your life better. You only have one body. Take care of it! Is your career worth your health? Mine isn't, at least not anymore. It used to be. And that's why her statement bothered me. I refuse to live that way anymore.

It's difficult for me to hear people be thankful for things that are causing them to lose their quality of life. If it is out of their control, I understand. But when it is in your power to make your life better... then make it better! Complaining is bad enough... but being thankful?! Stop enduring self-imposed misery and stop being thankful for it! Make decisions that improve your life. That is my rant for the day.

Am I Irreverent?

I love my new class "The Christian English Scholar." So far this class has had the most relevant discussion concerning Christian art that I've engaged in since I've been in college. Since the students are all upper class-men, the discussion has been very deep and opinionated, which, as my friends would know, I LOVE! Deep opinionated discussion that is intellectually stimulating, and is open to new perspectives is where I come alive.

Today, the last opinion stated bothered me. We were talking about the commercialization of Jesus (selling crosses, paintings, T-shirts, etc.) and asking the question, is this an insult to the religion. The last student pointed out that the Jews don't say the name Yahweh out of reverence for God. They have upheld that tradition for so long that they aren't even sure how it originally sounded since vowels were only added to the language later. His point was that we have lost that reverence for God and he wishes that we would have it back.

Why should that point bother me? Shouldn't I want us all to revere God? Well, yes, but not in the same way. I believe there is a reason we can now say His name, and that it is a good one. That's the beauty of what Christ did for us on the cross: he made himself accessible to all of us. He made a way for us to come back to Himself. He made it possible for each of us to have a personal relationship with Him, and thus we now know Him. That reverence has changed from a distant, law-conscious, impersonal relationship to a close, intimate, grace-conscious relationship. Jesus said, if you know me, then you know the Father. God told Moses his name because they had a personal relationship. Others only knew this name through Moses. Knowing a person closely means knowing his or her name; knowing them deeply.

Furthermore, restoring that kind of reverence highlights God's holiness without acknowledging His love. In His Word, God clearly says, He wants us to know Him more than He wants us to sacrifice, or follow the law (Hosea 6:6). I want God's people to understand His love more than anything else. That is His essence; that is who He is. God is love.

There are reasons why the scripture is not revered the way it used to be: because we have the Word inside of us, namely, Holy Spirit. We worship God, not His word. The value is in the relationship, not the formalities. Yes, I revere God. Yes, I value the scriptures. Yes, I am hurt and insulted when others insult Him. But is God actually insulted? How can He be insulted by a people who can't even love Him without His help to begin with? And if He is insulted, His love transcends it, because while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. While we were screaming curses in Jesus' face, while He was dying in the most painful and humiliating way, while He was positioned in the most vulnerable place possible, He looked up and asked God to forgive us, "For they know not what they do," He said.

That God is accessible to each of us is a beautiful thing. Taking His name off of my lips just isn't going to happen.

Perhaps I'm irreverent. Perhaps I'm wrong. Forgive me if I am.