I love sin! I love it!  And, though any good Christian would dare not say it, there are many times when it is difficult for me to choose between this seductive companion and more heavenly interests.  Sin is simply so attractive.  It offers a level of sensory experience and exploration that I often feel I am lacking on the straight and narrow.  Sin offers a sense of freedom to do what I want to do, when I want to do it without restriction, without restraint . It allows me to tune out the sometimes annoying voice of conscience that seems to torment me with twinges of guilt that dampen the happiness I feel on a weekend fling with this seductive lover.  Sin offers me the opportunity to feel, when my heart is so unfeeling (even pain is better than not feeling at all).  And so I find myself in bed with Sin, enjoying its company and comforts,  unsure what will happen when I decide to break up (yet again).  

I've been thinking this decision, separating, is a step I probably should take at some point in the future.  There are certain aspects of this relationship that are beginning to bother me. First, Sin seems to be strangely jealous of me when I spend time apart from it.  Though it promised to broaden my options it seems to limit them, and I find that when I'm in love with Sin it is near impossible to love anything else (even myself).  Second, though Sin offers me more sensory stimulation than I know what to do with, I wouldn't call this experience pleasure (well, maybe the pleasure of those who find satisfaction inflicting wounds upon themselves). Third, though Sin would claim to be the ultimate lover, it becomes more and more difficult to put-off the advances of another lover who seems relentless in His pursuit of me.  Even when I attempt to ignore the overtures, they come to me in subtle, momentary flashes of realization that makes me wonder if perhaps love is blind and I have played the fool and blindly chosen Sin.  Who would I choose if I could see?  And so, even though I love Sin I hope that another lover, The Lover, will overcome the jealous grasping of this illusion and win my heart.

"Take me to you, imprison me, for I, Except you'enthrall me, never shall be free, Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me."  John Donne 

Last night was the first discussion (okay, I'll say debate) that has fired me up in a long time.  I was hanging out with a bunch of guys that have also completed the MA at Trinity and we were stroking our egos by throwing around big theological words like Amilenialism,  post-tribulationalism, dispensationalism, historic premilenialism, cessationisism, predestination...  words that essentially describe a system of theological thinking.  I can see the strength and weakness of using such words.  They are good for word efficiency but can also divide people in ways that are counterproductive. Anyway, it wasn't over any of these "isms" that I became frustrated, but rather over the fact that I often seem to take a different theological path than those around me. Why am I always on one side and everyone else on the other? Now that I have set out from the Chapel and am a part of another movement, I find that it is more and more challenging to have theological conversations with those I love for we are speaking from very different frameworks.  Don't get me wrong, its not that we always disagree, just that I seem to be on a very different path through the theological jungle making it more and more difficult to discuss the scenery. I am sure, however, that this is a temporary problem. We will adjust. We will adapt our manner of discussing so that we bring the other up to speed on our current whereabouts in non-offensive ways and then proceed to share what the Lord has done in our lives...but this will take time.  Last night I brought up what I was discovering about a movement called "Biblical Counseling."  It has been a paradigm-shifting process for me and I am hungry to know more. I began by sharing some of the tenants of this counseling perspective only to be met with a barrage of cynicism.  hmmm.  I can only stop and wonder if my approach is to blame. How am I approaching this wrongly?  How can I share all that I'm learning without belittling others?  How can I be "convinced in my own mind" while remaining humble so that I can learn from those who disagree with me?   

Feel free to check out more about Biblical Counseling at the following site: Am I way off base here?

http://ccef.org/home.htm

"Obey your leaders and submit to their authority.  They keep watch over you as men who must give an account.  Obey them so that their work will be a joy, not a burden, for that would be of no advantage to you." Heb. 13:22

Check out:  http://leypeople.org/content/2005/11/04/worm-training-401/

Here's my response to the above entry writen by Doug Ley (my mentor this past year):

I've been thinking a lot about authority recently. As you know, my new church has a higher view of church leadership than I've been used to since it is not a congregationalist ecclesiology but more a presbytery, in other words, elder rule.  This doctrine is not only a reality on paper but is lived out in the daily functioning of the church. For example, the leadership is very careful to screen all of the books in the bookstore to ensure that they reflect their understanding of sound doctrine.  At first, this freaked me out! Such control seemed to hint of cultic brainwashing where people lose their capacity to think for themselves. Upon second thought, I've been wondering if I'm reacting to this model because it is unbiblical or just "unJonathan." After all, maybe the brainwashing has been happening for the last 28 years.  I have a number of strikes against me when it comes to accurately understanding what is biblical and what is not in this area: 1) I am an American with an over developed sense of individuality and autonomy. As Americans, we simply like to think the way want to think, and authority, well, authorities are for us to decide. After all, this is a democracy, right?  2)  I am a post-modernist i.e. skeptical, relativistic with a distaste for propositional statements of absolute truth.  If truth is hard to determine, I certainly don't won't someone else determining it for me.  3)  I am an evangelical protestant who has spent the majority of my life in congregational churches where the direction of the church is determined by a vote in which the doctrine of a new convert (determined by a 24 hr. read through of John) is sometimes as valued as the doctrine of a white-haired couple who have spent their lives pouring over scripture and seeking to apply it to their lives (after all, their views are a little too traditional and may prevent the church from reaching the younger generation).  As an evangelical, I've grown up attending bible studies where we sit around in a circle and share our interesting interpretations of a verse. We pray. We go home patting ourselves on the back for our creative (original?) contribution to the discussion or despairing because everyone else' seemed better. But either way, we determine the success of the discussion based upon how many people shared their perspectives, not upon the accuracy of these interpretations.  Heaven forbid that anyone have the audacity to say that their interpretation is the right one. What arrogance!  4) I am proud. That is, I'd like to believe that my interpretations are the right ones rather than the elders of the church (though I would never claim this in a discussion group, that would be arrogant).  5)  I am a sinner, and therefore by nature, I am a rebel.  I naturally hate authority. My flesh cringes at the thought of having to submit (against my will) to the will of another.  So how do I know that I'm not the one in error rather than the church ecclesiology?

Since my church has a radical commitment to the authority of scripture as the supreme authority, I've decided to set aside my qualms (and independence) and recognize that submitting to earthly authority is probably an indication of whether I'm submitting to a heavenly One.  This has been a death of sorts, but I am finding an abundant life on the other side. It is unfortunate that I have spent so long without the fruit of the seed that falls into the ground and dies.  I wonder how much more fruit the western church would experience if we would set aside our western prejudice (and pride) and humble ourselves beneath the authorities God has placed in our lives.

Thanks, Doug, for making us stop and consider whether we are missing something (not to mention...you).

It's been a while since I've blogged.  No surprise there.  My true colors as a procrastinator are showing. Often I simply don't feel like writing--so I don't, a habit that reveals more than the fact that I'm not an ideal blogger. It's a condition which afflicts many of us,  a tendency to base our decisions upon our feelings rather than on what we know to be best, in this case disciplining myself to write. How many of us are quick to indulge every whim of our hearts no matter how unhealthy?  In the midst of our emotionalism, tossed back and forth by the waves, Christ arrives on the scene and invites us to step out of our storm-tossed lives and into the faith-filled walk that allows us to stand upon the water and trust in him, rather than our emotions. 

This isn't the first time my attention has been directed to the story of Peter walking upon the water this week.

The Lord has been doing so much in my heart revealing massive quantities of self-reliance, pride, self-righteousness, performance-based thinking...all the typical religious sins that we Christians preach against but secretly (and not so secretly) indulge in.  I've spent a great deal of my Christian life evaluating myself, my sins, my victories, my performance in general. Yet recently the Lord has been kind to reveal to me just how deep the rabbit hole goes.  As many people know, but don't stop to consider, the essence of sin is an attempt to be like God. This is the sin for which Lucifer was thrown out of heaven, and it is the motive that resulted in Adam and Eve partaking of the apple.  I'm finding that nearly every sinful motive of my heart is linked with this impulse to usurp God's place on the throne.  Consider the above mentioned tendency to constantly evaluate myself. This is in essence a desire to judge the motives of my own heart. At first this may seem innocent but in reality it is an attempt at being judge (even of my own life), and we know that God alone is judge.  Don't get me wrong, there is a time for evaluation. But let me suggest that the Biblical emphasis is, "Search me, Oh God, see if there is any unrighteous way in me and lead me in the way everlasting" (Ps 139).  In other words, even our evaluation of ourselves is not primarily a self-evaluation but rather an openness to allow God to judge the motives of our heart and to bring conviction and cleansing.  Do you see the difference?  One approach is self-focused, our gaze turned inward as we position ourselves as judge, the other is God-focused as we turn our gaze to the righteous and merciful ruler who alone is worthy to be the judge of the universe and hence our hearts. Paul writes the same thing, "I do not judge myself" (I don't remember the Scripture off hand but can find it if someone would like it).  The desire to judge ourselves is the twin of our eagerness to judge others.  Do you see just how wicked this tendency truly is?  Judging others is not merely rude, it is an attempt to dethrone God and to set ourselves on his throne as the rightful judge of his creation.  Even as I write this I am immensely convicted. Oh, God, my pride seems limitless. It goes so deep, touching every motive of my heart.  I am so needy, grasping for power, pathetically crawling towards your throne, not for mercy but in an attempt to lead a one-man revolt and usurp your place...

"While we were still sinners (hating him because he is God and we are not), Christ died for us..."

What love is this, that takes this grasping fool and frees him from the enemy within.  That nails this scoundrel to the cross with Christ, crucifying him, that a new heart might be born in me that sings the song of humility, of worship, rather than self-glorification.  Lord, thank you for saving me from myself and taking my face in your hands and turning it towards you. Thank you for capturing my ever-distracted gaze in such a way that I can see faint glimpses of your glory. Oh, Lord, continue your work in me that my pride might be nullified that I might worship you in Spirit and in truth.

Let this ship of self-determination, of self-glorification and focus, of human effort and self-justification sink to the bottom of the sea. This floatation device is utterly defunct. Help me out of this sinking ship of human effort that I might walk upon the sea, my eyes fixed upon you and your all-sufficient righteousness.