Seeing The Crucifixion Again - For The First Time

  Holy Week is coming to an end. As I reached Good Friday and the events of the crucifixion, I wanted to understand it better. I wanted not to be caught up with the familiarity of routine, and lose the impact of the grim reality of what happened on Calvary more than 2000 years ago. I came across the following excerpt from "When God Weeps" by Steven Estes and Joni Eareckson Tada. Their little description is all I want to share today, keeping in mind what one author said - "As we draw close, don't assume that you already know or understand what happened there. Come to the Cross as if for the first time....as you read, refuse to let the scene be familiar. Let its reality shock you and break your heart." Here we go:

   "The face that Moses had begged to see - was forbidden to see - was slapped bloody (Exodus 33:19-20). The thorns that God had sent to curse the earth's rebellion now twisted around his own brow...

   'On your back with you!' One raises a mallet to sink in the spike. But the soldier's heart must continue pumping as he readies the prisoner's wrist. Someone must sustain the soldier's life minute by minute, for no man has this power on his own. Who supplies breath to his lungs? Who gives energy to his cells? Who holds his molecules together? Only by the Son do "all things hold together" (Colossians 1:17). The victim wills that the soldier live on - he grants the warriors continued existence. The man swings.

   As the man swings, the Son recalls how he and the Father first designed the medial nerve of the human forearm - the sensations that it would be capable of. The design proves flawless - the nerves perform exquisitely. 'Up you go!' They lift the Cross. God is on display in his underwear and can scarcely breathe.

   But these pains are a mere warm-up to his other and growing dread. He beings to feel a foreign sensation. Somewhere during this day an unearthly foul odor began to waft, not around his nose, but his heart. He feels dirty. Human wickedness starts to crawl upon his spotless being - the living excrement from our souls. The apple of his Father's eye turns brown with rot.

   His Father! He must face His Father like this!

   From heaven the Father now rouses himself like a lion disturbed, shakes his mane, and roars against the shriveling remnant of a man hanging on a cross. Never has the Son seen the Father looking at him so, never felt even the least of his hot breath. But the roar shakes the unseen world and darkens the visible sky. The Son does not recognize these eyes.

   'Son of Man! Why have you behaved so? You have cheated, lusted, stolen, gossiped - murdered, envied, hated, lied. You have cursed, robbed, overspent, overeaten - fornicated, disobeyed, embezzled, and blasphemed. Oh the duties you have shirked, the children you have abandoned! Who has ever so ignored the poor, so played the coward, so belittled my name? Have you ever held your razor tongue? What a self-righteous, pitiful drink - you, who molest young boys, peddle killer drugs, travel in cliques, and mock your parents. Who gave you the boldness to rig elections, foment revolutions, torture animals, and worship demons? Does the list never end! Splitting families, raping virgins, acting smugly, playing the pimp - buying politicians, practicing exhortation, filming pornography, accepting bribes. You have burned down buildings, perfected terrorist tactics, founded false religions, traded in slaves - relishing each morsel and bragging about it all. I hate, loathe these things in you! Disgust for everything about you consumes me! Can you not feel my wrath?'

   Of course the Son is innocent. He is blamelessness itself. The Father knows this. But the divine pair have and agreement, and the unthinkable must now take place. Jesus will be treated as if personally responsible for every sin ever committed.

   The Father watches as his heart's treasure, the mirror-image of himself, sinks drowning into raw, liquid sin. Jehovah's stored rage against humankind from every century explodes in a single direction.

   'Father! Father! Why have you forsaken me?!'

   But heaven stops its ears. The Son stares up at the One who cannot, who will not reach down or reply.

   The Trinity had planned it. The Son endured it The Spirit enabled him. The Father rejected the Son whom he loved. Jesus, the God-man from Nazareth, perished. The Father accepted his sacrifice for sin and was satisfied. The Rescue was accomplished." [1]

   I hope this little excerpt will help you see the Cross with new eyes, as it has helped me. I did this to Jesus; my sins sent Him there. My sins put the nails in his wrists and feet. My sins drove the crown of thorns into His skull, and the spear into His side. But Jesus took this punishment for me, because He passionately loved me. And because of His perfect sacrifice, I'm free. Praise God.

- The Wisdom Seeker

REFERENCES:

==========

[1] "When God Weeps" - Steve Estes and Joni Eareckson Tada

Following Jesus Into The Downtown Eastside

"Whoever closes his ear to the cry of the poor will himself call out and not be answered."  

- Proverbs 21:13, ESV

"By this we know love, that He laid down His life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers...Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth." 

- 1 John 3:16, 18, ESV

    Since the experience of my last post, I have found myself spending a lot of time over the last two days in prayer and meditation, trying to understand what is happening to me. I feel as if several significant things are slowly but surely stirring in my heart, accompanied by a great contemplative silence in the presence of God with a longing for sanctification and holiness. In the midst of this time of prayer that I'm still pursuing, I felt the prompting and leading of the Holy Spirit to go into the one area of Vancouver that I have heard much about since first arriving here, but never dared to traverse thus far - the Downtown Eastside.

   Vancouver's Downtown Eastside (DTES), titled "Canada's poorest postal code" by The Dominion Newspaper [1] is an area spanning a few blocks, and one of it's oldest neighbourhoods. In addition to being a victim of urban decay, it is also one of its most destitute, inflicted with a high incidence of poverty, alcoholism, drug usage, the sex trade, violent crime, and the highest HIV infection rate in North America. Till today, my encounters with it had only been from an insulated, sanitized distance - newspaper reports, and the secure, air conditioned interior of the #135 transit bus that I'd taken numerous times from SFU to downtown, passing along Hastings street in the middle of the neighbourhood. 

   And so it happened following God's prompting through His Spirit, that today afternoon I drove downtown after running some errands, parked some distance away from the DTES and walked the several city blocks that led straight into it. I felt nervous, never having been into a neighbourhood like this in all the time that I've been in Canada so far. But trusting God's call, I followed Him all the way to the heart of the DTES -  East Hastings and Main streets, which has acquired a reputation for being an "open-air market" for drugs.

   It was early afternoon and although the sunshine and warmth of spring has begun to move into the Lower Mainland over the last few days, the air was still cool when I got there. Nonetheless, there was no mistaking or avoiding the stale smell that hung in the air - unwashed bodies and clothing, alchohol, cigarette smoke and the telltale occasional whiff of smoked marajuana that I have learned to identify after moving to BC. But it wasn't so much the smell that caught my attention as I walked along the blocks towards Hastings and Main streets - it was the people - multitudes of them, lining the sidewalks.

     I was struck by how many of them were using walking aids - wheelchairs, crutches and braces, both the reasonably young as well as the old. A number of others limped by with difficulty, including one native Indian man with a vacant expression expression in his eyes, clutching an almost empty Cocoa-Cola bottle. Many others stood aimlessly against the walls or in front of entrances to buildings, with their only possessions in suitcases, garbage bags or shopping carts. I passed a rather skimpily clad lady who seemed to be trying to pour some liquid into what looked like a whiskey bottle. There were several small groups of people along the sidewalk, huddled together trying to buy, sell, trade or exchange random things - appliances, clothes, odds and ends. Others slept in makeshift shelters or on the sidewalk in sleeping bags or blankets. Most of the storefronts had a look of dank decrepitude, and almost all of them without exception had barred windows and doors. I passed by elderly chinese man, bent over and holding on to a walking stick, receiving in his open palm what looked like white pills being shaken out of  an unlabelled prescription bottle by another man. I didn't stop to take a closer look, just kept walking along at as steady a pace as I could.

   After arriving at the intersection of Hastings and Main streets, I was surveying the sight of the neighbourhood when a short middle-aged woman passed, carrying her possessions in two black garbage bags and trying to cross at the traffic lights. "Careful what you're looking at or doing around here, baby", she said. "Somebody gets upset, and they might kill you. Heck, I've felt like doing it myself to other people a few times." I nodded silently. She kept going and crossed the pedestrian crossing, talking to herself. Crossing the adjacent sidewalk to the opposite side of the street, I started heading back in the opposite direction. 

   The scene didn't look too different on that side of the road. I hadn't gone to far when I happened to pass by a young boy and girl heading in the opposite direction along the sidewalk. Seeing me, the boy stepped in my direction, waved his palm towards my face and said "hey, good-looking Chindian!", and then carried on walking up the street. "Chindian" is a slang expression for someone of mixed Indian and Chinese descent. I was startled for a bit, wondering what made him think that I possessed Chinese heritage, but kept walking. Looking across the street, I saw a building with "Potter's Place Mission" written on the board at its front. I remembered two friends of mine during my time at SFU - Steve and Kitty (who are now engaged) serving at a soup kitchen and homeless shelter on Hastings by that name, run by Korean missionaries. I concluded that it must have been the same place, and made a mental note of it for later.

     Having roamed around the DTES and on my way headed back out, Ifelt my heart beginning to break for the broken lives, mental, physical, emotional and spiritual lostness that I was seeing around me. I suddenly remembered the words of a passage from the Old Testament book of Isaiah that had been the topic of a bible study session in a small group that I used to attend last year. In His indictment and proclamation of judgement against the hypocrisy, injustice and indifference that was rampant in ancient Israel, God had this to say:

"Is not this the fast that I choose:

  to loose the bonds of wickedness,

  to undo the straps of the yoke,

  to let the oppressed go free,

  and to break every yoke?

  Is it not to share your bread with the hungry

   and to bring the homeless poor into your house;

   when you see the naked, to cover him,

   and not to hide yourself from your own flesh?

  Then shall your light break forth like the dawn,

  and your healing shall spring up speedily;

   your righteousness shall go before you;

  the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard.

   Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer;

    you shall cry, and He will say, 'Here I am.'

   If you take away the yoke from your midst,

    the pointing of the finger, and speaking wickedness,

   If you pour yourself out for the hungry

   and satisfy the desire of the afflicted,

   Then shall your light rise in the darkness

    and your gloom be as the noonday."

- Isaiah 58:6-10, ESV

   In the opening chapters of Isaiah, the prophet sees a vision of the glory of God, and after seeing his own wretchedness in the light of the majesty of God and being cleansed of it, hears God ask:

   "And I heard the voice of the Lord saying, 'Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?' Then I said, 'Here am I! Send me.'" 

- Isaiah 6:8-9, ESV

   Isaiah encountered the vision of the holiness and the person of God, and was ready to take the word of God to the people of his nation. Having followed Jesus into the Downtown Eastside today, I have to ask myself - what am I doing to declare and demonstrate the healing message of the Gospel to the destitute of this city? Guide my mind, mouth and hands to think, speak and work for you, Lord Jesus.

- The Wisdom Seeker

REFERENCES:

==========

[1] The Poorest Postal Code

The Gospel Stops "The Game"

It's been an extremely busy week with work, ministry and errands to run so I'm really glad that it's the weekend (although the weekend looks like it's filling up pretty quickly too)!

I've just arrived at the half-way mark in Tullian Tchividjian's "Jesus + Nothing = Everything", and it's given me so much to ponder, while transforming my mind to comprehend and marvel at the brilliant truth and beauty of the gospel. I've had to unlearn some wrong ideas in my Christian walk, repent of those sins and turn to Christ as my all-sufficient source of grace and power in my life. As the Holy Spirit has guided and brought me to those moments of conviction and change, I've felt free of those shackles and chains that burden the mind and heart.

As an example, in a section of Chapter 7 subtitled "Foolish or Free", Tullian wrote the following words that I found quite personally relevant and convicting:

    "God hates legalism. That message sounds throughout the Bible, and it's certainly a major theme of Paul's, especially in his letter to the Galatians. Legalism insists that my ongoing relationship with God is based on my ability to do good. That approach is always inconsistent with the gospel, and Paul shoots it down in every letter he writes - both through the way he structures those letters and in their content...In his letter to the Galatians, especially in chapter 1, Paul uses the strongest terms possible in exhorting believers to go back to the gospel as the one and only basis for their Christian lives....Paul goes on to declare, 'For freedom Christ has set us free;' and that must include letting go of the burden of having to 'become a better you.'" [1]

It was during December 2010 that I went through a time of some painful realizations and processing of memories and scars from my childhood years. This led to a four-part series of posts as I processed some of my childhood hurts, heroes, and realizations about both:

• Infliction: Childhood Wounds
• Adoration: Childhood Heroes
• Conviction: I'm Not Iron Man
• Salvation: The Guardian

In the marvelous providence and timing of God, while working through similarly painful convictions brought to my attention by Tullian's book, I came across a video recently that told a similar story told in the life of my friend, Hannah. I have known Hannah now for about two years since she came to serve as a staff member for Campus for Christ in the metro Vancouver area. I had always known her as a conversationally witty, easy-going and laid-back woman who is committed to her faith and purpose in life and able to hold her own in a discussion. But as I watched this video, it struck me how little one might be aware of the deep scars of the heart that may lie below a friend's exterior, or their struggles. But as in my own painful episode of two years ago when God gently hammered away at my pseudo-armor and brought down my walls, Hannah's story also reminded of the deep love of Jesus and the tremendous power of His gospel to free us from our enslavement to sin. Here is Hannah on YouTube, recounting her journey in answering the question "Would you rather play and always lose or never play at all?"

Hannah Lee: "Would You Rather Play and Always Lose or Never Play At All?"

Thanks for reading. See you in the next post, which will be carrying some very exciting news! Until then, grace and peace to you.

- The Wisdom Seeker

REFERENCES:

------------------------

[1] Tullian Tchividjian, Jesus + Nothing = Everything, Crossway, Wheaton IL, Pgs. 101 - 102

Trustworthy And True

My yellowed and tattered old Bible - the Word of the only true and trustworthy God I know

    While I was writing my last post on the pain of loss, a phrase in one of the verses that I referenced caught my eye: "...these words are trustworthy and true" (Revelation 21:5). They've been in my head for the last three days, even as I've been trying to keep up with change as my life undergoes major transition.

    It has occurred to me that anything that is presented to me in the form of a statement, fact or person, also carries with it an associated appeal to believe in those things or people. In essence, I'm being asked to trust that what is being presented to me is true. Relationships, conversation, family, friendships, advertising, buying/selling, work...in the kind of world in which we live, this happens incessantly in every aspect of life - "Great dollar value! Save up to 50% off!"; "Satisfaction guaranteed!"; "We'll do what's best for you!"; "Trust us to take care of your money!"; "Good job! You're awesome!"; "I'll get the job done";  "You're incredibly beautiful"; "You mean everything to me"; "I love you with all my heart"; and perhaps that most used and abused sentence of appeal for trust in one's trustworthiness:

    "I, so-and-so, take you, so-and-so, to be my my lawfully-wedded husband/wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part."

    With the cacophony of voices that call out to me every day, from every side, it becomes increasingly difficult to figure out who to believe, in what they say. I believe that this is the case for the rest of society too. Isn't it interesting that the more we desire trustworthiness and truthfulness in people, the more we find that it becomes nearly impossible to enforce? Our laws become longer and more complex. Giving one's word is useless now, we must sign reams of paper. It isn't enough to state things simply either - the fine print of clauses and conditions at the bottom of agreements grows ever larger. We can't trust anyone to keep their mouth shut, so we create non-disclosure and confidentiality agreements. It's not enough to keep doors closed; they have to be locked, bolted and security systems with cameras installed to keep people out. Even the hallowed wedding vows aren't spared, for pre-nuptial agreements must become a necessity in case people decide to jump ship. Evidently, 'until death do us part' doesn't mean much anymore.

    Truth is that which best describes things as they really are. The credibility or truthfulness of anything said to me is only as good as the trustworthiness of the person uttering it. And the trustworthiness of the person is only as good as their fundamental strength of character.

    And that is why I can and will believe in Jesus so much, with all the issues of the heart that I've been writing about on this blog, especially that which I've been thinking about in the last month. What He says is credible because He is trustworthy, and He is trustworthy because He has more than strong character; He is truth itself. That is why John, His beloved Apostle, describes Christ as "...glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth." (John 1:14, ESV) in the opening verses of his Gospel. That is also why John, in the book of Revelation, introduces Him as "...Jesus Christ the faithful witness" (Revelation 1:5, ESV). He is faithful because He is trustworthy, and He is trustworthy because He is truth. That is why Christ can say of Himself, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father, except through me" (John 14:6, ESV). The evil behind a lie isn't some damage done against some person, society or nation's laws. It is the violation of the person of God, because He is truth and a lie is everything that He is not. Evil is more than an abstract term for hypothetical discussion around tables or fireplaces; it is that which rises up from within the human heart with the desire to be the God of God, and in the process turns a person into everything that God is not.

    The words of John 3:16 say that "For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have eternal life." Christ did more than say "I love you." He proved the truthfulness of His Words with action - by dying on His Cross for the curse of my sin and resurrecting from His grave three days later, to break the curse of death that would have been my fate. My dear friend, may you find His forgiveness for your sin, His companionship in your loneliness, His fellowship in your suffering, His joy in your sorrow, His strength in your weakness, His transformation of your character and His promise of new and eternal life by the power of His Word and Spirit.

    I love my Christ because of who He is. Matthew Henry expressed it brilliantly when he said: "The greatest and best man in the world must say, By the grace of God I am what I am, but God says absolutely....I AM THAT I AM." God bless. See you soon.

- The Wisdom Seeker

Help, God. It Hurts.

"The heart knows its own bitterness, and no stranger shares its joy." (Proverbs 14:10)

    It's been a week since my last post, after searching for the reassurance of God's presence and comfort in "Is He There? Does He Care?". In the midst of significant changes in my own life, I learned some personal information about my friend Yeswanth's death that shook me. It profoundly altered my perspective on the grief of someone he has left behind, who is trying to come to terms with the fact that he is gone. It also brought my writing on this blog to a standstill as I tried to digest the implications of what I had heard and reflected on the crushing weight of this person's sorrow. I cannot even begin to comprehend what this individual has been feeling. It's been one of those bittersweet weeks where the words of Proverbs 14:13 became very much a reality: "Even in laughter the heart may ache, and the end of joy may be grief."

    There is something about the devastation of hopes and dreams that hits the heart unlike any other. That crushing sense of shock, tightness in the chest and accompanying dizziness in the head that feels as if everything is spinning. Or that sickening sensation in the stomach that feels like being in an elevator in free fall. Gone. Over. No Hope. Irreparable. Incurable. Terminal. Destroyed. Shattered. Finished. None of us want to face words like that when it comes to the deep desires and dreams that reside in our hearts - love, relationships, marriage, children, career, education, family, finances, projects, even ministry.

    Unrequited love. A relationship ended. A child that must be buried. A spouse betrayed and marriage devastated. Love's labour lost. Or perhaps a promising career or venture brought to a sudden end. The feeling always seems to be the same - something missing or permanently lost. A vacuum or hole in the heart and mind, and the accompanying grief in realizing that it is gone. Perhaps even regret at all the effort that went into the dream that is now reduced to ruins, being signed away on divorce papers, lying on a hospital bed, being lowered into a grave or burned on a funeral pyre. It all comes with very tangible sense of despair and inability to hope in the light of all that is happening at the moment. At times when that which we have loved and desired is being burned to the ground, it's not just that we can't grope for some measure of hope; it seems as if we don't even want to. As inevitable defeat seems to stare us in the face, the instinct is to crawl under the covers, lie down and die.

    As much as we like to think and pretend otherwise, the truth of the matter is that the human heart is extremely fragile and sensitive.

    Like those who hurt over his passing, I find myself deluged with questions on the matter. Why did this happen, God? I know that You have a purpose in everything You do, but situations like this are so hard to explain. Why did his time come when circumstances in his life were so promising? How will his family find hope? How will the person who longs for him pick up the pieces and keep moving on with life? Can You do something about their pain, God? Help, God. It hurts. Please heal their broken hearts. Please console and comfort them. Please save them. Please.

       It is in the midst of all these questions that I find my own heart turning to the Word of the only wise and true God, Who has carried me through my own moments of personal hurt and sorrow. I was reminded of chapter 25 in the book of Isaiah, titled "God Will Swallow Up Death Forever." Verses 6 to 9 read as follows:

    "On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well aged wine, of rich food full of marrow, of aged wine well refined. And He will swallow up on this mountain the covering that is cast over all peoples, the veil that is spread over all nations. He will swallow up death forever; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces, and the reproach of His people He will take away from all the earth, for the Lord has spoken. It will be said on that day, 'Behold this is our God; we have waited for Him, that He might save us. This is the Lord; we have waited for Him; let us be glad and rejoice in His salvation.'" (Isaiah 25:6-8, ESV)

    This prophesied defeat of the curse of death that hangs as a covering and veil over all people and nations was fulfilled 740-odd years after the life of Isaiah, in the crucified body of the Son of God that hung on His blood-drenched cross, and His resurrection three days later. In the final book of the Bible known as 'Revelation', John the Apostle is given a vision of the resurrected Christ such as He has never seen - hair white like wool or snow, eyes burning like fire, feet gleaming like polished bronze, a voice with a roar louder than an angry ocean, and a face "like the sun shining in full strength." (Revelation 1:13-16, ESV). Yet of all the opening lines that this terrifying persona could have chosen, I find it deeply moving that Christ speaks words of comfort to His beloved Apostle, of life on the other side of death: "Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the living one. I died, and behold I am alive forevermore, and I have the keys of Death and Hades."

    Time and again throughout the Bible, God promises an appointed time to come when death will be no more, when this fallen and dying world will pass away and the creation of a "new heaven and a new earth" (Revelation 21:1). I find it interesting that in the entire Bible, there are only two places where life is recorded to be perfect. The opening two chapters of Genesis, the first book, record the beginning of time with creation and life with God before mankind sins through disobedience and is separated from Him; the final two chapters of Revelation, the last book, record the end of time with the 're-creation' of a new heaven and earth, and the words of God Himself in His promise of new life:

    "And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, 'Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be His people, and God Himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, no pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.' And He who was seated on the throne said, 'Behold, I am making all things new.' Also He said, 'Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.'" (Revelation 21:3-5, ESV).

    It is no gamble to put my trust in the only God who promises life and light on the other side of darkness. If you are sorrowing today, may you experience His powerful and comforting presence and put your faith in His promise of new life for you. See you in the next post.

- The Wisdom Seeker

    "For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who looks on the Son and believes in Him should have eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day." (John 6:40, ESV)

    "I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?" (John 11:25. ESV)

    "Because I live, you also will live." (John 14:19, ESV)

Salvation: The Guardian

"For the Lord God is a sun and shield..." (Ps. 84:11)

  After letting the impact of the last post settle in over the last two days, I have been contemplating a rather difficult and unsettling conclusion:

   The more I walk with God, the more I realise how little I really know or understand about Him.

   Why is this such a big issue? It follows from my foolishness in looking to impotent superheroes who never got off their comic book pages or animated series to come to my rescue when I needed them. I believe there is much to be said about my misplaced admiration of the celluloid and paper heroes concocted by man's imagination than the love, potency, and protective ability of the One to whom all power belongs. I've been infuriatingly slow to see the truth that's been staring me in the face all along:

   "El", The Powerful God, is the only One capable of being 
The Guardian that I have been searching for.

   I wonder why it has taken me so long to see all this - the greatness of God and the impotency of all that my mind and heart has sought for protection. Emulating the armour of my most admired superhero did nothing to protect me, as hard as I tried. Superman did not swoop down to be the "Man of Steel, Man of Speed, Man of Strength", rescue me from danger and deflect the proverbial "sticks and stones". Optimus Prime from Transformers, for all his size, powerful voice and grand words of leadership had nothing to show or say when he was needed. Wolverine slashed his way through countless enemies both in the comics and on screen; there was not a single claw mark to be seen in defense of the innocent in real life. Michael Knight sallied forth with K.I.T.T  in Knight Rider as "a young loner on a crusade to champion the cause of the innocent, the helpless, the powerless in a world of criminals that operate above the norm". Neither was to be seen anywhere. I could write reams upon reams about the concoctions of the mind and heart of man both in creating and looking to heroes that are evanescent shadows at best, ultimately failing to meet the expectations of those who hold on to them.

   How immeasurably different from any man is the heart of the warrior God of the Bible who stands and fights on my behalf!

   Cain, son of the very first family, has no inclination to love and protect his brother Abel; he murders him instead. When asked by God where his brother is, he answers with the words "I do not know; am I my brother's keeper?" (Genesis 4:9, ESV). How different is the promise of the Lord of hosts of whom it is written in Psalm 121: "The Lord is your keeper; the Lord is your shade on your right hand...The Lord will keep you from all evil; He will keep your life"! History testifies time and again that fallen man, with all his grandiose promises of stopping oppression, lifting the downtrodden, executing justice and bringing peace has proven himself unable to be the hero that follows through. It is thrilling to realize that no human leader of any kind will ever claim, or be able to wield, the kind of power attributed to God in the words of Psalm 91 or anywhere else in the Bible. And He demonstrated His desire to love and protect in the ultimate exercise of power through the Person of Jesus.

   "And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age," said Jesus in Matthew 28:20. The writer of Hebrews echoed this fact with the promise of God in the Old Testament: "I will never leave you nor forsake you" (Joshua 1:5, ESV). I am only now beginning to comprehend the magnitude of God's protective nature in the Person of Christ. Any superhero conjured into existence by imaginative writers and artists looks pathetically silly in contrast to John's description of His vision of the risen Jesus in Revelation 1:12-16. Any heroic words that writers put into the mouths of heroes and superheroes of comics and books pales in comparison to the assertion of Christ: "Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the living one. I died, and behold I am alive forevermore, and I have the keys of Death and Hades" (Revelation 1:17, ESV) Though I gave my life to Christ in serious commitment 15 years ago, it saddens me to contemplate that it has taken me so long to internalize this deep truth of His person:

  Christ is the Guardian who protects my heart and mind, not through emotional barriers, but through the active, living, invincible armour of His Holy Spirit within me who wraps Himself around me tighter than any man-made armour ever could.

   Even as I write this post, my mind is struggling to digest the implications of all that has hit me. I'm going to stop here and go and process all of this for a bit. See you in the next post!

- The Wisdom Seeker

Conviction: I'm Not Iron Man

"It's not the armour that makes the hero, but the man inside." (Copyright Marvel Studios)

"I am Iron Man" - Tony Stark, "Iron Man" (2008)

To say that the last 24 hours since the "Adoration: Childhood Heroes" post have been a little unnerving would be a bit of an understatement. As if the realisations of the last several posts since "Broken Love" weren't painful enough, God clobbered me with some more as I was finishing the last one and followed it up over the next several hours for good measure. Though I like the wording of the poem "When God Wants To Drill A Man", I can't say I really look forward to these intense beatings between His hammer and anvil; they're not much fun when they're actually happening.

I've been dimly aware of something related to the barriers around my heart for some weeks now. But reflecting on what I'd written about my search for a 'Guardian' amongst non-existent "superheroes" who never came to the rescue, God hammered the first convicting blow home:

No matter how hard and thick I try to make the armour, the "arrows" inevitably get through.

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me!". Like most people, I learned that limerick of pseudo-bravery in school. But as everyone who memorised it will testify through experience, this asinine hallucination is about as true as believing in horoscopes, UFOs and bent spoons. The imbecile who composed this line obviously didn't bother to read what the Bible has to say about the tongue and its capacity for devastation (James 3:6-9). In any case, I had to face the hard reality that my approach of adding thicker armour, more barriers and hardening the heart hadn't stopped it from getting hurt.

God delivered the second blow as I was reading 'The Knowledge of The Holy' by A. W. Tozer, given to me on my birthday by my friend Julia. In a chapter dealing with the nature and implications of God's love, Tozer wrote:

"Fear is the painful emotion that arises at the thought that we may be harmed or made to suffer. This fear persists while we are subject to the will of someone who does not desire our well-being. The moment we come under the protection of one of good will, fear is cast out...The effort to conquer fear without removing the causes is altogether futile...As long as we are in the hands of chance, as long as we look for hope to the law of averages, as long as we must trust for survival to our ability to outhink or outmaneuver the enemy, we have every good reason to be afraid. And fear hath torment. To know that love is of God and to enter into the secret place leaning upon the arm of the Beloved - this and only this can cast out fear. Let a man become convinced that nothing can harm him and instantly for him all fear goes out of the universe. The nervous reflex, the natural revulsion to physical pain may be felt sometimes, but the deep torment of fear is gone forever. God is love and God is sovereign. His love disposes Him to desire our everlasting welfare and His sovereignty enables Him to secure it. Nothing can hurt a good man."

There was a stunned silence in my soul as the bombshell in those paragraphs impacted hard. In the aftermath of the explosion, the wheels in my head began turning, the tough questions began to erupt and the weight of conviction by the Holy Spirit began to press down: "What was your core motivation behind building all those walls? Has it all been based on conquering fear without facing the cause? Yes it has. Don't deny it, Kevin. Stop running away. It's all been based on trust in your own ability. You've been playing the part of your own bodyguard. Have you ever really, deeply believed that God loves you? Do you comprehend the implications of His loving nature? I don't think so. You don't really believe that He is powerful enough to protect your heart, do you? Or that he even wants to protect you? You've concluded during childhood that He deserted you when you were getting beaten up or hurt, haven't you? Deep down, you believed that like everyone else, He abandonded you to the wolves because He didn't love or want you. You've just never admitted it. Good grief, I'm such a horrible sinner..."

In the end, it boiled down to two painful realisations:

• Deep down, I've never truly believed that I'm lovable to anyone, including God

• I've never really believed that God is powerful enough to protect my heart, or that He wanted to

The third blow came later in the evening, as I was at Sam Chua's place for a Christmas and caroling party. A book on his shelf titled 'Humility: True Greatness' caught my eye and I sat down in a corner to read. The second chapter defined and talked about why God hates pride with the words: "Pride is when sinful human beings aspire to the status and position of God and refuse to acknowledge their dependence on Him."

 

With this final impact, the linchpin tying everything together that God was clobbering me with, fell into place:

In its search for the 'Guardian' and adoration of non-existent superheroes who never showed up when I needed them, my heart in its pride did not believe that God loved me enough, was powerful enough and was faithful enough to be the Bodyguard that it was looking for, or that He even wanted to be there for me.  

After so many years, I finally have to admit that I'm not "Iron Man", though I badly want to be. It seems God is getting me to slowly take off the armour and dismantle the barriers, one piece at a time. Could we please take a break from the 'hammer and anvil procedure' now, God? I'm feeling really sore. Ouch.

"My son, do not despise the Lord's discipline, or be weary of his reproof, for the Lord reproves him whom he loves, as a father the son in whom he delights." (Prov. 3 : 11-12)

- The Wisdom Seeker

Infliction: Childhood Wounds

I've been sitting on the fence after the thoughts of "Old Spice Can't Help You", and the posts prior to that, especially "Broken Love". In the midst of all my realization of the sinfulness and brokenness of my own heart, I find myself looking back at what I've written, and hesitating. Hesitating, because things have been converging to this for some time, and I didn't realize it. Hesitating, because it forces me to get personal and frank, and I really don't want to. Hesitating, because the rubber of my theology must meet the road of reality and I'm suddenly recalling a quote from my favourite movie:

"Remember what Bilbo used to say: "It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to."

- Frodo Baggins, The Lord of The Rings: The Fellowship of The Ring

I think I'll step out onto the road, and trust God to guide my thoughts for the next few posts.

In the cognizance of all that I've been running from, I've had to acknowledge the hurtful experiences of childhood and see their effects through new lenses. In some cases, I've needed to admit that they happened, that it mattered, and that neither could be conveniently swept under the rug.

A lot of the wounds I've had to process are from school. Being the youngest in my class, I was 'different' in many ways that I couldn't really explain. I guess I still am. For other reasons that I've never understood, the bullying began after I shifted classes in Grade 6 - first verbal and then the physical beating. This went on for years, all the way to my final year of high school.

Writing this now and feeling a familiar sharp pain coming on, I suddenly feel like shrugging it off, saying it wasn't a big deal, didn't matter and changing the subject. I mean, everyone gets beaten in school, right? So what? '"Stiff upper lip, be tough and take it like a man!", I feel like telling myself, just as I did as a child. But there was the problem in trying to "be tough" - I took it all silently and said nothing. Picked myself up quietly for years, after getting ganged up on, insulted, pushed around and beaten up, and went back to class after lunch recess, or home after school as if nothing had happened. I suppressed the pain of abandonment and rejection because I wanted to be "strong", and vowed never to cry. And so I did, proceeding to build walls around my heart and layering on the "emotional armor". Even though I accepted Christ as my Saviour in 9th grade, I didn't know how to deal with the underlying hurt and anguish. The wounds festered under the surface and during high school, led to another unconscious vow:

No one would ever be allowed to hurt me or lay a finger on me again.

Initially, that translated into picking fights with the same people who had started the bullying years ago in sixth grade. But after high school, things proceeded on a different front with silently shutting people out in different ways for the next 11 years, trying to keep people from getting emotionally close enough to figure out where to "aim the arrow". When they did hurt me, it became an immense battle to forget; a close friend of mine recently made the observation that my mind is simultaneously my greatest gift and my worst enemy. I had no problem admitting that he was absolutely right. The pattern of hurt, suppression, building emotional armor and shutting people out was one of the contributing factors culminating in the events described in my previous post, "Family Matters".

There was one glaring problem with all the emotional armor and walls that I was building:

No matter how thick the armor, how high the wall, or repeated vows to "be strong" and "never cry", the heart stubbornly rebels with all its might in the desire to be genuinely loved and keeps hammering back against the barriers, demanding to be let out.

During my time in school and for almost a decade after, that desire led my heart to some strange and curious people in search of rescue and freedom. I will keep that for the next post. Writing this one has taken the longest and been the most draining of any that I have ever written. I suppose that's what happens when the rubber meets the road in attempting to "walk the walk, not just talking the talk". It's tough to be honest and face the brokenness.

Till next time, then!

- The Wisdom Seeker

NOTE:

   This post was the first that led to a four-part series on childhood hurts, heroes, and realizations about both. The full series is listed below:

• Infliction: Childhood Wounds
• Adoration: Childhood Heroes
• Conviction: I'm Not Iron Man
• Salvation: The Guardian

"Family" Matters

Our "Family Portrait", taken at Vancouver YVR airport

  Three months ago, something extraordinary happened within a small group of friends whom I have known for some time from C4C @ SFU and attend the same church with. Over the last year and more, I had gotten into the habit of going to the same church service, sitting together, having meals, watching movies, talking, fellowshipping and sharing everyday life. Noticing long-standing patterns of interaction within our group dynamic (which only amplified over time) we gathered one Sunday afternoon to talk and address them. Some matters were touchy and sensitive, others controversial. Quite a bit of it had to do with me.

  I still have trouble expressing what happened at that gathering. I don't think anyone anticipated what happened, least of all me.

  We voiced concerns, grudges, emotions, sensitive matters, memories and processed them together. I had a lot of stuff to disclose, confess and repent for; so did everyone else. We vented, argued, rebuked, cried, shared, forgave, laughed and prayed together. It was strange and in some ways awkward for me, as I'd never done something like that before.

  But in the process, we experienced a very tangible and powerful bonding. I remember some of us talking about it days later and reflecting how we'd never seen or been part of something like that before. In many ways, we felt very much like a family, and some of us said so.

  Above all, I believe we saw the restoring power and grace of God through His Gospel brought to bear upon a community of fallen people. In his latest book "Has Christianity Failed You?", Ravi Zacharias makes a powerful observation:

  "Human beings will always find ways to divide and create hierarchies. Such is the plight of the human heart...This is the first clue to transcending ethnicity. One may call to Jesus out of his ethnic and cultural distinctive, but one's ultimate transformation comes in that personal dimension of trust apart from any cultural elitism...The call of Jesus is an invitation to freedom and trust. I am free only inasmuch as I can trust my fellow human being. If I cannot trust those around me, I am not free...The vision of God for humanity is that we might see his claim on us as an invitation to live and love, transcending all ethnic and cultural boundaries, not because Jesus is David's son, but because He is the instrument of power over all other power, of essential worth over political ideology, of human need over ethnic arrogance. He has eradicated every barrier of race and culture and position in life."

  So why am I writing this now? I stand at a fork in the road of my life, a turning point with a critical decision to make. I look around at those closest to me and see them looking back. I am moved, even unnerved by the depth of affection that I see  in their eyes. Maybe I am forced to confront the possibility that I have assumed myself to be unlovable by anyone, and shut everyone out  for years with that one assumption. 

  More often than not, we fallen human beings don't appreciate what we have, or the people God offers and makes available to us. Sadly, history will testify that the only way we realize value and are forced to grow is by losing and reflecting on what could have been. As the popular saying goes, "you don't know what you have until it's gone". From Genesis to Revelation and our own personal lives, we all have enough and more of those moments to remember and reflect on.

  To my Family and "Family": thank you for loving me in spite of my vacillation, moods, stubbornness, silence, stupidity, sullenness, bickering, sharp tongue, sensitivity, insensitivity, ingratitude, unkindness, and moments when I've shut you all out. As I realized a couple of days ago, I have nothing good to say about myself and everything good to say about my God.

  I love you all very much.

- The Wisdom Seeker