Faith

“I would probably believe in God if he showed himself to me. Or if I had a near death experience and had some vision. If he came down to me and said, ‘I am God. Believe in me.’ Then I would start believing”

In my encounters, visions and near death experiences top the charts in what it would take for those who don’t believe in God to place their faith in Him.

I understand where they’re coming from. They need some proof. They need an experience. Just like you need to drink a cup of the World’s Best Coffee to believe it’s the real deal.

“If Christians really believe in God, the God who created the universe, it should be no problem for Him to show Himself to me.”

It’s an awfully selfish request. It’s framed in a way implying God owes us something—as if we deserve to hear from him in a way we decide. That God should erase our need for faith in order to embrace Him.

To those who have never experienced God: Don’t limit experiencing Him to near death experiences and angelic visions. God rarely shows up in the form of a burning bush or audible voice.

It’s not impossible, it’s just unlikely.

But that doesn’t mean you don’t have opportunities to experience Him.

Maybe you’ve had nothing but hardships, seen nothing but hypocrites who claim to be Christians, and the closest you’ve come to experiencing God is hearing a Fray song at the bar.

Don’t give up. God is alive. He is here. You just haven’t experienced Him yet.

If you’re asking why God hasn’t visibly appeared or audibly spoken to you, you’re asking the wrong question. You need to ask, If I want to experience God, where is the most likely place for that to happen?

You haven’t experienced God because you haven’t put yourself (and your heart) in a place to experience Him.

You may not like to hear it, but God promises to show up where two or more are gathered in His name (Matthew 18:20)—making a church that has a pastor and at least one person in attendance a good start. God also promises to draw near to those who draw near to Him (James 4:8). Have you gathered in His name? Have you tried to draw near to Him through reading the Bible or praying to Him?

God can show up at a bar, but chances are it is going to be hard to hear Him there.

God can show up in a vision, but He’s already showed up in the flesh, in the form of His son, Jesus Christ. He could speak audibly to you, or He could write you a whole book, the longest love letter ever written, in the form of the Bible.

Don’t limit how you can experience a limitless God. Put yourself in a position to experience Him in places He promises to be.

My name is Jordan, and I have a pride issue. I’m glad I got that out there.  It feels good.  I’m going to keep at this.  I get too big for my britches, I think I’m better than I am, and I feel like I deserve what I have much more than I would ever care to admit.  I’m working on that.  Pray for me.

Yesterday I had an opportunity to chat with a friend of mine about pride, and we studied Luke 18: 9 – 14.  The scripture is a parable about a Pharisee and a tax collector.  Essentially, the Pharisee is an arrogant, self-righteous, boasting dirtball (my words), who walks around with a sense of entitlement and thinks he deserves God’s grace and mercy.

The tax collector is a humble servant who doesn’t even feel he is fit to be anywhere near the altar in the temple.  He realizes he’s soaked in sin, and he asks the Lord for mercy because he knows he’s unworthy of anything God gives him.

Who are you in that parable?  Me—I’m the Pharisee.  I’m sorry if you were expecting a different answer.  I let things go to my head faster than you can say “Pharisee.”  It’s disgusting.  It’s shameful.  It’s something I pray about daily.

Some people might not notice my pride, others might see that at times I’ve got a bigger head than Stewie from Family Guy.  This post is by no means meant to illicit “I know people way more prideful than you” responses.  I’m not comparing myself to them—that’s not where my standard is set.

John Calvin makes an eloquent analogy in The Institutes of the Christian Religion. Calvin says that when we compare ourselves to things on this earth, when we are looking down at this terrestrial place, we’re pretty pleased with our “own righteousness, wisdom and virtue; we address ourselves in the most flattering terms.”  It’s true—when we set our eyes on the earth, it’s easy to become prideful—we’re comparing to something below us, something that can be attained.

Calvin finishes the analogy by saying when we look at the sun, everything here on earth looks dim.  The earth “is instantly so dazzled and confounded” when comparing it to the effects of looking at the sun.  If we look to God and compare ourselves to Him, it is infinitely more difficult to become prideful.

We’re nothing compared to Him.  He makes the sun rise in the morning.  I can’t make myself rise in the morning.  He’s perfect in every way.  I’m imperfect in everything I do outside of Him.  He created E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G.  I can’t create an omelet.

We humans are innately prideful; we’re born into it, and it’s not easy to shake.  We must stop looking to the earth and set our eyes above.  We must look to the Lord and humble ourselves like the tax collector.

I can’t do it alone.  I pray for humility daily.  It’s the first thing I say when people ask, “What can I pray for you about?”  So I’m asking a favor of you.  Call. Me. Out.  Don’t ever let me be prideful in any venue—on the Interwebs or in person.  Humble me.  Knock me down.  Ask me, “Is that what Jesus would do or say?”  Don’t let me get away for even a gleaming second of arrogance.  I’m looking for humility at all costs—no holds barred.

Remember Luke 18:14: “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

Finally, ask yourself, “Am I the tax collector or the Pharisee?”  If you’re the Pharisee, what are you going to do about it?  If you’re the tax collector, are you sure?

Have you ever known someone who was so out there, so different, so distinctly contradictory to the norm that you wanted to know what was at their core—what they believed and why the acted the way they did?

Have you ever been that person?  Have you ever acted in a way so unselfishly, with such a servant’s heart that people said, “Why are you doing this?”

What if we all acted that way?  What if for one day we put ourselves at the bottom of the totem pole?  What if we acted in a love so unbelievable people noticed we were focused on something outside of ourselves?  What if we acted as if deep down in our hearts, at our innermost point, there was something so unshakeable that we could act radically different because of our faith in that?

What if we lived every day like a follower of Christ that had more love than we knew what to do with?  What if we served and loved our friends and families and strangers so much that they could almost see the love oozing from our pores?

What if we paid for a stranger’s lunch, or picked up someone’s books after they dropped them, or let someone with 100 things at the grocery store go ahead of us buying a single pack of gum because they look rushed?

What if we genuinely asked people how they were doing and cared about the response? What if we went out of our way to call someone we know is hurting just to tell them they are loved?

What if we looked beyond material things and acted as if nothing on this planet mattered more than the creator of it and the people he put on it?

What if you did all of those things and through your love and actions and faith in Jesus Christ you were used to draw people to the Lord?

What if I told you that’s how we should live every day?