“A person who wields power cannot see truth;
that is the privilege of the powerless.”
― Lesslie Newbigin, Foolishness to the Greeks: The Gospel and Western Culture
I hate this statement: Christian theology says we’re incapable of managing our lives. We need our Creator and Lord to manage it for us. The reason being, we’re not nearly as smart or powerful as we think. The faith goes a step further and says we need a Savior. Yep, join me as I now place my fingers in my ears and sing “La-la-la-la” while I tune out.
However,
by tuning out, I show where my pride begins. It’s where my arrogance
wrongly leads down a path of futility. Here are some verses that expand
on the concept.
John 3:19
“This is the judgment, that the Light has come into the world, and men loved the darkness rather than the Light, for their deeds were evil.”
Psalm 82:5
“They do not know nor do they understand; They walk about in darkness; All the foundations of the earth are shaken.”
Isaiah 45:7
“I form the light, and create darkness: I make peace, and create evil: I the LORD do all these things.”
This
is brass tacks of how we show our hubris. We respond to these verses by
saying, “That’s not true, I’m managing fine on my own. I don’t feel
like I’m in the dark, I don’t need Christ.” And God gives us exactly
what we ask. We march along and seek our own fulfillment and happiness,
we vigorously pursue our agendas, and don’t realize the shiny “stuff” is
not the best outcome. This is what God is referring to as “darkness.”
My close friends know my broken record joke: if you leave me to my own
desires, you can bet your mortgage I’ll end up in Vegas with a Scarface pile of coke
and several women seeking payment for services rendered. Am I joking?
Partially, but all of us have a dark side. And all of us can become
immersed in accumulation and achievement as our end goal, as opposed to
seeing all paths as means to help others. We also run into this
ginormous problem known as death, that hammers home our weakness.
I
hate to admit it, but I recognize my deficiencies. There are thousands
of things I can’t do that are not in my skill-set. Collectively, here’s a
short list of man’s inadequacy that validates Isaiah 45:7.
- We can’t grow food.
- We can’t generate rain.
- We can’t manufacture the air we breathe.
- We can’t create a child without help from the opposite sex.
- We can’t control the finality of death.
Yes,
we can grow crops, but I’m referring to the natural resources of planet
earth. We assemble the parts given to us, but can’t create anything
from scratch. In other words, ain’t no one making seeds, dirt and H2O.
The Isaiah 45 verse frames the conversation perfectly: God. Does. It.
All.
I try to give perspective on this concept in my book in relation to suffering, using ants as an analogy. Today I’ll stick with them bugs
to make a different point. Each person on planet Earth can be equated
to an ant in relation to genuine power. Like ants, we live in colonies.
Those colonies are governed by a monarchy called a queen. There are
soldiers who serve, protect and gather food. Ant colonies have trails
similar to roads that lead to other colonized villages, and some take up
the equivalent of city blocks with several floors connected by
walkways, like a multi-family high-rise. Yet for all that complexity and
structure, a Joe Schmoe in brown socks can annihilate their entire city
on a Sunday afternoon,
with a machine he purchased at Home Depot. On top of that, the dude who
devastated the city is pretty much a larger version of an ant, living
in his own city, serving, protecting, and gathering food. Said Schmoe is
part of another 7.6 billion other ant peeps with very little influence,
unless granted by the higher authority of God (Romans 13:1).
The ant has limited influence on the lawnmower situation; and we’re no
different in relation to God’s authority over the city, state, country
and world in which we live.
I’m
not saying we’re all worthless ants. We appear to be somewhat higher up
the food chain, and maybe the argument is validated by God giving us
superior cognitive abilities… at least compared to our little ant
buddies. But don’t get all high and mighty regarding your influence.
We’re limited in the grand scheme.
Hello Darkness My Old Friend
Psalm
88 below is an example of our powerlessness. It’s known as the darkest
Psalm because it does not end with the usual rhythm of this book; where
authors often remember how the Lord helped in the past, or state their
hope He’ll come through in the future. It concludes with darkness as the
psalmist’s only friend… and scene.
1 Lord, you are the God who saves me;
day and night I cry out to you.
2 May my prayer come before you;
turn your ear to my cry.
3 I am overwhelmed with troubles
and my life draws near to death.
4 I am counted among those who go down to the pit;
I am like one without strength.
5 I am set apart with the dead,
like the slain who lie in the grave,
whom you remember no more,
who are cut off from your care.
6 You have put me in the lowest pit,
in the darkest depths.
7 Your wrath lies heavily on me;
you have overwhelmed me with all your waves.
8 You have taken from me my closest friends
and have made me repulsive to them.
I am confined and cannot escape;
9 my eyes are dim with grief.
I call to you, Lord, every day;
I spread out my hands to you.
10 Do you show your wonders to the dead?
Do their spirits rise up and praise you?
11 Is your love declared in the grave,
your faithfulness in Destruction?
12 Are your wonders known in the place of darkness,
or your righteous deeds in the land of oblivion?
13 But I cry to you for help, Lord;
in the morning my prayer comes before you.
14 Why, Lord, do you reject me
and hide your face from me?
15 From my youth I have suffered and been close to death;
I have borne your terrors and am in despair.
16 Your wrath has swept over me;
your terrors have destroyed me.
17 All day long they surround me like a flood;
they have completely engulfed me.
18 You have taken from me friend and neighbor—
darkness is my closest friend.
The writer is at his wit’s end, he’s desperate and crying out for help. Maybe his world was devastated by some version of the “lawnmower.” I find verse six and eight fascinating, in that he sees God as responsible for his desperate situation. While we’re often culpable for decisions that get us in a pickle; the circumstances are part of a bigger plan way above our pay-grade. I’m not referring to how people cherry-pick Jeremiah 29:11 and use it like Mick Jagger did in “Far Away Eyes,” “If I just send $10 to the Church of the Sacred Bleeding Heart of Jesus… next week they’ll say my prayer on the radio, and all my dreams will come true.” God’s maneuverings always have an air of mystery, they’re rarely binary. If they make sense all the time, the plans are likely our own small doodlings under our own agenda; and not of the magnitude of what He can orchestrate in our lives.
Make no mistake, God sees as more important, and cares for us infinitely more than ants. The proof being I’ve yet to come across an inch-tall dirt church with a teeny little savior on a cross.
See ya next time. ML