When God Dreams...

As a dream when [one] awaketh; [so], O Lord, when thou awakest, thou shalt despise their image. Psalm 73:20.

This Psalm has swelled in significance for me as our era of feeling called to "measure" the church continues. It came to us in our own dreams, and fulfilled itself in the last couple of years. For years before that call, we were happily settled into a church home, and even if we moved we generally found a new one with relative ease. Not so the last couple of years. And while we are currently at a church that a good 10,000 feel drawn to attend, we still have a sense of unrest here. We also know You told us to sit in attendance here for a while, but I don't think it is for the same reason You sent us to our churches of old.

For instance, I read the following quote in the book, Crazy Love, "God's definition of what matters is pretty straightforward. He measures our lives by how we love. In our culture, even if a pastor doesn't actually love people, he still can be considered successful as long as he is a gifted speaker, makes his congregation laugh, or prays for 'all those poor, suffering people in the world' every Sunday."

It's not that I don't believe my pastor loves...it's that I have no clue about his love. I have his words, but no experience, no personal certainty as I watch his life. At best, I have only a hope that he loves in some way hidden to me. After all, what can I know about a man who speaks to me in the midst of a sea of 10,000 others? What does he know about me?

If one is to believe the modern church, a pastor and a congregant don't need that kind of one-to-one life visibility. There's an hierarchy in place. The pastor will demonstrate how he "loves" to those in his inner circle even as I will do with mine. But is this really Your preference for the Church? Or...could we be seeing the fruits of a subtle planting of nonspiritual ideology, a methodology that speaks a risky message into our subconscious. What message? Only this: the Church of God is so large after 2000 years of growing, and that added to the tens of thousands of angels gathered around the throne, that we would be foolish to expect You to take a "personal" interest in US as individuals or to reveal Yourself to us! If I am really good, maybe some heavenly version of mid-level management will take an interest in me, but to expect anything different is surely prideful.

When I pause to consider that message, I realize I profess to believe something very different. In fact, I do not believe my God is so small that He must operate under the same limits that govern a lead pastor in a church of thousands. But in practice, I live as if that distance is spiritual truth. Didn't Jesus pray, "Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven"? Does that go so far as to mean relationship with the shepherd on earth should reflect relationship with the shepherd in heaven? But because the opposing ideology is so backdoor in its presentation, how many of us stop to realize that IT is now sitting, drinking coffee at our kitchen table? And not only is IT sitting there, but IT brought along ITS companion ideology: Complacency.

For me, all this personal reflection brings Psalm 73 back in bold relief.
How easily I relate to the Psalmist as he says:
But as for me, I came so close to the edge of the cliff!
My feet were slipping, and I was almost gone.

Bitterness constitute the edge of that cliff for me. I look over it every time I acknowledge a truth like this one: I learn more through 15 minutes of conversation about the "love" of a young social worker at a Christian homeless shelter than I know about the "love" of the man I've called lead pastor for the last two years.

What happens when this situation persists? Because none of us really have a clue about each other's "love" meter, laziness tempts us. And, because all of us feel virtually invisible to the pastors "called" to speak into our lives weekly, self-protection tempts us. We are quickly positioned to be cast in the worst possible roles that appear in Psalm 73. These are the ones I mean:



They seem to live such a painless life;
their bodies are so healthy and strong.

They aren't troubled like other people
or plagued with problems like everyone else.

They wear pride like a jeweled necklace,
and their clothing is woven of cruelty.

These fat cats have everything
their hearts could ever wish for!

They boast against the very heavens,
and their words strut throughout the earth.

If we're honest, even if we don't live by these traits, don't we often see them as close to our real aspirations? Don't we calculate by them even in our very churches! How many invest the effort to be certain that their clothing isn't woven in the cruelty of a sweat shop? How many have everything we could ever wish for without even realizing it, simply because we aren't aware what classifies as "suffering" on the global median? How many of us use social media to make our words strut throughout the earth?

If God favors us, we are aware of a strata of human existence who "live" the verses that follow those listed above:
And so the people are dismayed and confused,
drinking in all their (the ones previously described) words.

If God favors us, we listen respectfully and hold up the praying-arms of the least of His brethren when they cry the next verse:
"Does God realize what is going on?" they ask.
"Is the Most High even aware of what is happening?"

And, most of all, if God favors us, we leave the ranks of that church in Revelation that doesn't even recognize its own poverty and makes the Son of God gag. We understand who wears this verse from our chosen Psalm:

Look at these arrogant people-
enjoying a life of ease while their riches multiply.

Conviction should strike our hearts when we realize how few are living favored lives by this measure. So how do we answer the problem? Again, those new-church concepts of mass and inertia plant subtle hopelessness patterns across our hearts. Do I stop attending church entirely? Do I realize You spoke strange things about this "modern problem" in ancient times? Do I realize even I might be called for a "sign and a wonder" in this world where You would love for ALL to be saved?

How do I respond when I see my own country's church sadly confirming Your words as they came through Hosea: "When I fed them, they were satisfied; when they were satisfied, they became proud; then they forgot me." Do I embrace that more-convenient posture of shame that my church and its leaders would have me to do, all for having had the audacity to pause and meditate on this prophecy? Or, do I move into it more deeply.

Do I move on to hear You speak yet again, now through Malachi, when You ask pointblank: would your governor/government be satisfied with the quality and quantity of what you offer Me?

And because the answer is obviously no, do I perceive You marking me with that strange call when You, again through Malachi, search for a strange apostle: "Oh, that there were one among you who would shut the gates, that you might not uselessly kindle fire on My altar! I am not pleased with you...nor will I accept an offering from you."

Is this lifeless sanctuary the place where we are left to sit guarding the locks?
Thankfully, no. Our Psalm reminds us to exit this place of difficult commissioning when the opportunity arises. We are not without hope. But "visioneering" must define church differently once our eyes are so opened. I see three things next in this Psalm that are like the compass, the map and the canteen graciously given in answer to our cry of: "Alright! I admit it. I'm totally lost in this forest, and I've been lost here for awhile!"

One grace in the church of my dreams is hidden in this verse:
Then one day I went into your sanctuary, O God,
and I thought about the destiny of the wicked.

I will search and I will build until this is true for me: entering Your sanctuary brings thoughts larger than helplessness and hopelessness, ones that inspire me to think with my own mind about the truths of destiny.

The second grace is hid in this verse:
Then I realized how bitter I had become,
how pained I had been by all I had seen.

I will search and build until time spent in Your sanctuary clarifies my perception of myself and my drifting away as measured by what matters to You.


And the third grace is found in this:
I was so foolish and ignorant-
I must have seemed like a senseless animal to you.
Yet I still belong to you;
you are holding my right hand.

I will search and build until I find a sanctuary where it is on earth as it is in heaven in all the ways that You make available: a place where I can be known for the senseless animal I am, nevertheless, my hand is faithfully held by one who teaches me to love by first loving me.