Then Peter began to say to Him, “See, we have left all and followed You.” (Mark 10:28)
Abandonment is not for anything at all. We have got so commercialized that we only go to God for something from Him, and not for Himself. It is like saying, “No, Lord, I don’t want You, I want myself; but I want myself clean and filled with the Holy Ghost; I want to be put in Your showroom and be able to say – ‘This is what God has done for me.’” If we only give up something to God because we want more back, there is nothing of the Holy Spirit in our abandonment; it is miserable commercial self-interest. That we gain heaven, that we are delivered from sin, that we are made useful to God – these things never enter as considerations into real abandonment, which is a personal sovereign preference for Jesus Christ Himself.
When we come up against the barriers of natural relationship, where is Jesus Christ? Most of us desert Him – “Yes, Lord, I did hear Your call; but my mother is in the road, my wife, my self-interest, and I can go no further.”
“Then,” Jesus says, “you cannot be my disciple.”
The test of abandonment is always over the neck of natural devotion. Go over it, and God’s own abandonment will embrace all those you had to hurt in abandoning. Beware of stopping short of abandonment. Most of us know abandonment in vision only. – Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest
In the fog of war in my own mind, this quote is tied to Rick’s comment on yesterday’s post regarding the sin of despair. I suspect that is because my own inclination to despair is a function of my resistance to, shall we say, progressive abandonment. The Lord does not frontload the requirements of abandonment for most of us. The longer we know Him, though, the deeper the necessity of release and detachment goes. As I go I find more and more that I have to turn over to God.
It is kind of scary to look at what Chambers says about being put in God’s showroom and think that this could well be the overwhelming view within American Christianity. If that’s the case, is it any wonder that Christians are mostly ineffective as salt and light in our world? Is it any wonder that people seek “spirituality” in other forms and other directions?
Let’s use George Bush’s greatest mistake as President as a parallel. After September 11, 2001, Bush did not call the American people to sacrifice and out-all war with Islamic radicals. He told us to go shopping. The war against terrorists is important and we have to do it, but it’s not that important. It’s not that big a deal, except for the military. Americans accepted the message that personal comfort and pleasure were more vital than the eradication of a virus, which in its current configuration, has plagued the West since 1979 and the overthrow of the Shah (thank you, Jimmy Carter – or, as he may come to be known by historical revisionists: Barack I). That view of American life set the stage for the anger the press fanned about New Orleans and Hurricane Katrina. It allowed Republicans to continue corporate welfare, the Fed to continue propping up Wall Street, and Wal-Mart to continue fulfilling the American urge to buy cheap Chinese crap. Eventually it allowed the protests over Iraq to gain traction. If it’s not important enough for us to sacrifice, why are we sacrificing the lives of our best young men and women? This is the most basic reason why a barely literate community organizing lawyer who should be chasing ambulances on the south side of Chicago is sitting in the White House (when he’s not in Europe apologizing for our alleged arrogance) today.
Christianity that does not call us to abandonment and to sacrifice says that our relationship with God in Christ is not all that critical. If I am just supposed to be happy and comfortable in this life and then get a harp and a white cloud in the sweet by-and-by, how important is prayer and communion with God? What’s the big deal about Jesus’ death, burial, and resurrection? Didn’t He take care of it so I won’t have to? Let’s just skip over that verse where Paul talks about “the fellowship of His sufferings” and “being conformed to His death”. Why should the modern American Christian give up anything to follow Christ? Can’t he or she just claim all the good stuff, and, as Chambers says, be clean and filled with the Spirit? Isn’t that what it’s all about?
The simple fact is that I will never know God apart from abandonment. Until I am not just ready, but I do give up all and follow Him, I am not His disciple. I am a Bible student; I am a moralist; I am a dilettante and poseur. I am not a disciple of Jesus.
Abandon all, ye who hope to enter here.
9 comments:
I think one does have to be careful when talking about "total" anything, whatever the ultimate value of it is. My first thought in reading this is that though I have decided in my mind to abandon myself to God, it is a daily struggle to do so. The way it is presented in this post, it sounds like something one just decides on and then the rest of life follows in the same vein, as long as the decision was completely genuine and 100%. Any Christian knows that this is never the case. Each day is a new struggle to live up to the original decision. I think that sometimes there is a love of the dramatic statement using words such as "radical" or "total" or even the aforementioned "abandonment". Sinful humans are never 100% free of sin, so we never fully live up to these. The immature believer will simply assume their original decision was somehow not total when he or she inevitably falls short in their life. If we truly could abandon ourselves 100% to god in this life it would make us without sin, for total abandonment would involve the complete defeat of our fallen nature for the rest of our life here on earth.
Thanks, Peter. That's a thoughtful and valid caveat.
I agree, as I say in the first paragraph, I think the Lord does not require total abandonment up front. I find in myself resistance to the progressive movement of the Spirit through my life.
When Peter makes the statement in Matthew 10:28, he thought he was totally abandoned to God. He found out what he had done was just the first stage. I've been there myself. As I went along I found out that more stuff had to go, often just in terms of seeing myself as "steward" instead of "owner".
Funny thing is that when you get past the first stage, the road ahead seems even longer, as you become more aware of how far away we really are from the Lord. Fortunately, we are only here for a brief time. More and more I am coming to realize that that is a huge blessing.
The subject of attachment is one of the most important, methinks.
Everyone is different, but personally, to the extent that I experience light (clarity), the things I'm attached to seem transparent, and I find it fairly simple to let them go.
Of course I say that with my fingers crossed behind my back, as there's still a-plenty I'm identified with.
With enough consideration, I hope (gulp), to the possibility that I may be rationalizing, I don’t think everyone is supposed to be a saint, or a monk. As Bob once said, “we all have a role to play.” But maybe try to find our own out their and bring our hearts toward it. I don’t think that means we can’t try to be as close to God as is possible within our present commitments. I don’t think this means “static” or ever feeling you've found the destination point. It moves. It’s a dynamic balance. And I think a person can tell when they are not following its tug. I know when I have not met my own mark. How would I know the saints if I were one? What would be the point of that. Who would they speak to. How would my son know me if I were a monk. It’s not like I’m so close to saint that I have to worry :-) As Peter implies, it seems the distance grows the clearer it gets. Or our eyes and heart grow more sensitive.
Walt,
Li’l Trooper adds, “If Husky needs a place to stay, well, you know, the garage door may be unlocked. Jus sayin.”
:-)
Yep, Rick, sometimes it's a higher calling, I think, to take care of both things and relationships for which God's gives us responsibility. We just don't get attached.
Rick,
No, sweetie- the whole point is that you're a saint where you are. Not that you have to leave to go be one. You just have to be willing to.
(of course, there are exceptions. Great sinners who repent leave their past companions, eg.)
This is why the kalendar is full of saints who were all kinds of things: farmers, kings and queens, shepherds, lawyers, doctors, teachers, kids, soldiers, bums.
It was the quality of the life they lived, not the type necessarily.
You just have to be a saint where you stand.
Peter-
excellent point. Not pointing out the dailiness of everything and the long hard slog awaiting is a terrbile failing of pastors, etc.
Sal,
Whataya getting mad at me for? :-)
Shirley, we agree:
“I don’t think that means we can’t try to be as close to God as is possible within our present commitments.”
All kidding aside…I am very cautious of the dangers which some serious seekers fall into. The warnings from those plenty higher than me are everywhere. I pray I will always be cautious of it. This has nothing to do with my trajectory, my will, or rather the Lord’s will, but more to do with properly regarding my own position on the trajectory toward God. In other words, I want to see my limitations, know them, but most importantly, know who and what I am not.
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