We Should Be Shocked

Why, they even set up obscene god and goddess statues in the Temple built in my honor—an outrageous desecration! And then they went out and built shrines to the god Baal in the valley of Hinnom, where they burned their children in sacrifice to the god Molech—I can hardly conceive of such evil!—turning the whole country into one huge act of sin. Jeremiah 32:35 The Message

 

When dealing with sin and sinners, I often thought it better to be shockproof. If I was not surprised by sin, I could deal with it without emotions clouding the picture. Maybe I felt that calmly folding my hands and tilting my head to the side while saying, "Nothing surprises me," was a more sophisticated and intellectual posture, knowing the universality of evil and the depravity of man. Did having such an approach to human weakness give me an edge of some type? Or was it more indicative of something I lost and needed to rediscover in my spiritual life? And further, if God was shocked at the sinfulness of his people how could I live a shockproof life?

                                                               Face to Face

(Now Moses was a very humble man, more humble than anyone else on the face of the earth.)  With him I speak face to face, clearly and not in riddles; he sees the form of the Lord.  Numbers 12:3,8 NIV

 

As a young pastor, I attended one of our yearly Council meetings. At the close of an afternoon service, we were encouraged to pray and confess our faults to someone in the room to bring healing. I was seated in a sparsely populated, introvert section of the auditorium, but a gentleman I did not know approached me from across the room. He placed his hand on my shoulder, and after a brief greeting, we prayed. His humility and what I felt was a heartfelt prayer encouraged me. Older and more accomplished in his walk with the Lord, he confessed his faults to me and had me pray for him just as he did for me. After the meeting, the facilitator dismissed us, and we introduced ourselves. I was surprised that I had been praying with the keynote speaker, G Raymond Carlson, newly elected General Superintendent of the Assemblies of God! I'm glad I did not know who he was because I wouldn't have confessed anything more than "I got mad at a friend once." As a young pastor of a small congregation, I was shocked. Quiet, not commanding in physique or attitude, He didn't fit the part of the evolving CEO model of leadership I had begun to see.

Two years later, I would see Superintendent Carlson again on a television newscast during a scandal that had engulfed another of our superstar ministers. As the General Presbytery moved toward defrocking the well-known evangelist, a camera crew caught up with Carlson outside the headquarters building. I cannot remember exactly what words my elder statesman spoke, but I do remember the humility and brokenness with which he spoke. Maybe that North Dakota-born pastor was a great actor before the camera lens, or perhaps he was the same person I had met years before, and his tears were out of shock and dismay at what played out before him during the hearing. Perhaps, unlike me and many others, the horror of sin could still hit this man of peace very hard. 

Jesus said, "Blessed are they who mourn." We must corporately mourn the loss of closeness to the heart of God, a separation that allows us to isolate what happens on earth from God. Comprehending sin outside of His presence will cause us to react in a way foreign to God. Was God not aware of Molech? Did he have to inquire who that false god was and what he required the worshiper to do? I think not! God's mind or heart knew of Molech and those who passed through his fire. What could not enter his mind was that His people would worship this god of child immolation. Jeremiah prophesied against it because being in God's presence comforted and distressed him. His proximity to the Lord made him "feel with" him so that he would cry out against such depravity, not in self-righteousness but in divine agony.

At the 1984 National Prayer Breakfast, President Ronald Reagan recounted the story of how one man's shock and dismay at the Colosseum's inhumanity ended one of the national pastimes of the Romans:

 "The story goes back to the year 404 AD – a monk named Telemachus followed a crowd into the Colosseum, where he saw the gladiators come forth, stand before the Emperor, and say, 'We who are about to die salute you.' And he realized they were going to fight to the death for the entertainment of the crowds. He cried out, 'In the Name of Christ, stop!' And his voice was lost in the tumult there in the great Colosseum…

As the games began, the crowds saw this scrawny little figure making his way out to the gladiators in the arena, repeatedly saying, 'In the Name of Christ, stop!' And they thought it was part of the entertainment, and at first they were amused. But then, when they realized it wasn't, they grew belligerent and angry…

And as he was pleading with the gladiators, 'In the Name of Christ, stop!' one of them plunged his sword into his body. And as he fell to the sand of the arena in death, his last words were, 'In the Name of Christ, stop!' And suddenly, a strange thing happened. The gladiators stood looking at this tiny form lying in the sand. A silence fell over the Colosseum. And then, someplace up in the upper tiers, an individual made his way to an exit and left, and the others began to follow. And in the dead silence, everyone left the Colosseum. That was the last battle to the death between gladiators in the Roman Colosseum. Never again did anyone kill, nor did men kill each other for entertainment.

One tiny voice that could hardly be heard above the crowd. 'In the Name of Christ, stop!' It is something we could be saying to each other throughout the whole world."

 

 

The Disquieting Presence

Telemachus had lived as a hermit, spending his days and nights praying and in acts of devotion. He delighted in practicing the presence of God. His name meant "far-distance fighter," which was the opposite of who he was until that fateful day of faithfulness to God. One of the significant focal points of the present-day church is in teachings on the "Presence of God." Sermons and testimonies point to the many delights in dwelling in his presence. Words associated with presence are powerful, peace, joy, holy, and comfort. I know how to be comforted in his presence but am not often enough disquieted. To be disquieted is to be disturbed and perplexed, along with God, because our standard is fixed in and by fellowship with Him. I sensed in my prayer time with the General Superintendent that he was no stranger to prayer and that prayer moved him into the disquieting presence of God. He prayed aloud for my benefit. A whisper would have been enough if I had not been present, as Jesus was so near him. He was a soft-spoken prophet who took my transgression, as well as his own, as personal affronts to our Lord, and because of his humility, I did not feel put down. On the contrary, I felt a freeing breeze enveloping my soul as he spoke with God.

How do we get to that place in the presence of the Lord?

Firstly, we must ensure Christ is present in and through the sacred words he has given us. The presence of God based on anything else is fantasy and will reflect a wrong image of our King. His word reveals a God who is shocked by evil and made angry (2 Kings 17:18) by sin. Through his word, allow yourself to rejoice, sing, and even be angry. During your quiet time, ask questions like, "Should I run with this word?" or "How can I serve your cause and heal their brokenness." At times, he may ask you to bring much-needed intercession; at other times, he may give you an assigned action. Whatever he tells you, do it.

One Sunday night, my college roommate and I sat transfixed by the preaching of Dr Karl Strader. I had never heard a man preach that I wanted to believe any more than him. We were immersed in the presence of the Lord that night. Since we had not eaten before we went to the evening service, our usual routine was to hurry back to campus to get something to eat from the canteen before it closed. But on that night, we felt different. We had gathered with many others to pray at the service end, and when we started to exit the building, Ervin and I said, "Let's go witness!" almost simultaneously. We drove to the Publix Market Plaza near the church, and forgetting about the canteen, we talked with anyone who came near about Jesus. That night, we both asked, "What can I do?"

Secondly, when posturing yourself in God's presence, the only agenda must be his agenda, which you will receive by listening. Enter a listening room of prayer, and do not superimpose any other images before him. Check your thoughts about what and how he will work at the door so he may take you into unvisited places. Let Him disturb you by his holiness and he may push you right over into the blood-soaked sands of the arena or to pray with a person who is in a desert place.