Month: January 2014

Copyright 2014 by Shea Oakley
All rights reserved

It has been said that, as Christians, we must become “nothing” in our own eyes. This is, in a sense, true but we do not achieve it by hating ourselves so much as in forgetting ourselves. When this happens on a purely human level it is always a function of our attention becoming fixed on someone or something else. As believers we most truly and fully become nothing in our own eyes when God becomes everything.

I’m not sure that it is possible for a human being, including one in a saving relationship with his or her Lord, to live all of the time with Him at the center of their consciousness. Most of us cannot even say that He occupies this place most of the time, let alone all. That said, it is only during such moments or periods of “God-focus” that we are most free of the tyranny of self. Such a state is most devoutly to be sought. It is there that we discover both our highest good and the ability to seek the highest good of others.

Most of us find ourselves living in a time and place in human history when we feel a constant and strong pull towards distraction. It has become difficult in this 21st Century to stay focused on anything for very long and the problem is not just one of duration. Even when we do succeed in concentrating on just one thing we may find the level of concentration reached to be not as deep as might be desired. In our “attention-deficit culture” we sometimes seem to have corporately lost the ability to profoundly contemplate anything.

This was not so true in centuries past. For most of the Church Age there were many who “practiced the presence of God” as a vocation. At the least those who were regarded as serious Christians spent hours in serious devotion and adoration (often on the Sabbath Day.) Even if we do not respect a life of total contemplation, the kind manifested in the cloistered existence of a monastery, there is no reason why we cannot carve out significant periods during our waking hours to be contemplative. That we do not is somewhat of an indictment of how much we have been deleteriously caught up in the spirit of these latter times.

The other, more serious, problem is that if we are not distracted by the lesser things of a perhaps suicidally busy world we tend to be thinking about our own interests or, more specifically, about ourselves. Self-centeredness is the most obvious legacy of the fall of humanity, probably because it is also the most pervasive. The believer must constantly call and rely on the power of the Holy Spirit if there is to be any hope of attaining a lasting victory over this aspect of our “old man”. Self-centeredness does not simply fall away as an immediate function of conversion to Christ. It must be pursued, and pursued consistently.

One of the best ways to do this is to seek what we today often call “alone-time”, specifically alone-time with the Lord. The purposeful pursuit of solitude in regards to human company is not the sole purview of the monk or the religious hermit and never has been. Throughout the Christian centuries there have been those who have found ways to balance human company with time spent alone with their Redeemer. It is in these hours or days spent pursuing God and God alone that they have achieved “the Beatific Vision”, moments when He has become everything in their eyes. In this sweet communion they found new love for God and, as a sort of natural (or supernatural) byproduct, a fresh love for their fellow travelers here on earth as well.

It is true that this is also a difficult thing to do in these times. Both distraction and self-worship are no doubt rife today, but the Spirit of God is still here to make this journey of Godly solitude possible. It begins with a desire for God to be more deeply our all-in-all then becoming consciously linked with active prayer for the Spirit to move us in such a way as to make that possible. This must translate into willed action to “come apart and be separate” from the world for regular periods in our lives. These periods seem to most perfectly align with a weekly Sabbath (or at least they have for the author) but seeking them on a daily basis is certainly not impossible either. Annual or more frequent retreats may also have the same effect.

However we pursue remembering God to forget ourselves the pursuit is worth whatever sacrifice of time that might be required. By putting Him first in our consciousness we eventually realize that we not only find Him, but begin to find our new selves…our new lives in Him as well. We discover that it was never God’s intention to somehow annihilate us as much as it was to give us that life which shall endure forever…in and with Him.

Copyright by Shea Oakley
All rights reserved

“In every crisis of life, as represented in the Old Testament as well as in the teaching of our Lord, this aspect of God is emphasized- ‘God is our refuge’; yet until we are hit by sorrow it is the last thing we seek for God to be.” -Oswald Chambers

That many of us do not greatly desire to be near to God except when we are in the place of trouble is one the most tragic ironies of the Christian life. We are left wondering what perverse aspect of our nature causes us to so easily forget during good times the One who redeemed us during the bad times. The reality of this tendency seems so counter-intuitive. One might think that we would be joyfully thankful for such periods of smooth sailing in a life more often marked by storms. Why would a believer not feel closer to God than ever during days of sunshine?

The fact is that the world, the flesh and the Devil are always lulling us back into a sense of complacency marked by a decreased sense of our constant need for intimacy with, and dependence on, our Creator. Even the best Christian is liable to forget God when God’s blessings are taken for granted. Whatever the theological reason is for a child of God being susceptible to such “forgetfulness” it happens to most of us and it happens often. I have known few believers who have not experienced this phenomenon.

Perhaps the answer lies in the part of our hearts that remains un-surrendered to the Lord even after a “dark night of the soul” experience. The degree to which we stop thinking about God when times are good may well be determined by how much of our attention has been captured by Him when times are bad. C.S. Lewis once called pain “God’s megaphone to rouse a deaf world” but even pain does not purify a wandering soul overnight. It may be that only repeated times of trial are sufficient to wrench us from earthly comfort and cause us to finally seek God as our all in all. This is not a particularly pleasant thought, to be sure, but it does seem to reflect the reality of a sanctification process that takes a lifetime.

If this is indeed true then we are in a sense more genuinely blessed in the valley than we are on the mountaintop. If easy periods in our present existence tend to lead to a spiritual drift, embodying the lie that we can find our greatest fulfillment here rather than in Heaven, then the only thing that can reawaken us to our desperate need for a life centered on God is the return of trials and tribulations. They can remind us that this place is not our home.

The greatest saints of church history have always known this. Such individuals came to essentially view themselves as “strangers in a strange land”. They did not necessarily disdain earthly pleasures, but they always kept them in a perspective formed by this knowledge. They knew the secret to contentment in any and every circumstance that Paul spoke of, a contentment that is not based on temporal life on Earth as much as on eternal life in Christ.

I cannot presume to know exactly how each of us can gain such perspective, but I suspect it comes with time, suffering, and hearts decisively willing to let that suffering do the work God intends for it to do. As we go through this process we may even come to a place of thankfulness and devotion that remains both in season and out of season. Then, whether we are in good times or bad, we may learn not to forget the One who should be the Lord of both.

Copyright by Shea Oakley
All rights reserved

Many years ago I happened to gaze upon the face of a sleeping baby boy. I’ve seen many infants in the course of my life, but for some reason God decided to grant me an epiphany as I looked at this one. Perceiving his face I felt a then-rare sense of awe steal over me. In the serene visage of a tiny child I was suddenly overcome with a deep recognition of the dignity of a particular human being made in the image of almighty God. The perception only lasted in terms of seconds, but I have never forgotten it. That child’s face, and the realization of the presence of the divine in it, has been burned into my memory.

In an era when our culture has progressively forgotten God a sense of the reality of human dignity and the sacred value of human life have also become increasingly lost to far too many of us. Without the grounding of human worth in the reality and ultimate worth of the Creator of human existence people become expendable. This is because, apart from God, our existence is increasingly seen as meaningless and, thus, worthless. We see the results of this kind of thinking in everything from the contemporary fetish for violent media to the ongoing attempts to expand abortion “rights” to inexorably climbing suicide rates in the West. Detach human value from divine origin and image-bearing and you are left with a sort of “societal death fetish”. This is the terrible trademark of the Post-Judeo-Christian worldview that has gained so much ground in the West during the last few decades.

For this reason it is imperative that we who call ourselves Christians find the time to meditate on the implications of our origins. The truth is that a taste for media violence and even thoughts of self-destruction are not unknown among professed believers today. It is difficult not to wonder if this reflects just how deeply we have allowed ourselves to be influenced by the world that we supposed to be in, but not of. In this light perhaps a holy rediscovery of the God-given value of human life must begin in the Church before we expect to try to re-introduce it to the surrounding culture.

Such a re-discovery starts with the realization that while all value is derived from something, ultimate value is only derived from Someone. Despite the Secular-Humanist’s sometimes strident objections nothing and no one has intrinsic value apart from God. It does no good to talk about human rights unless there is a transcendent value imputed to human beings that both justifies and delineates those rights. If that value is assigned by human beings it is being assigned by imperfect creatures whose perceived self-interest at any given moment will define what a “right” is for themselves and others and what isn’t. Such rights are fluid and will ultimately be changed to fit the temper of the times. We saw what this can lead to in the mass depredations of atheistic political systems during the 20th Century, so far the bloodiest in human history.

The only ground for real human moral progress will be found, if it is found at all, in re-centering human value from our profoundly imperfect selves to the God who made us, the One perfectly revealed by the God-Man, Jesus Christ. Apart from this all that the most well-meaning people hope for in our future is doomed to be lost forever.

As I write these words I find myself wondering what kind of world that precious slumbering baby from years ago is, even now, growing up to inherit.

Copyright by Shea Oakley
All Rights Reserved

It is better to suffer than to sin. By this I mean that the pain of successfully resisting temptation is better than the misery that results from giving in and doing what it lures you to do. This might seem like an obvious truth but many of us have trouble grasping it. Having a deep understanding of the reality of this equation usually only comes after we have repeatedly hurt ourselves, others and God through repetitive sin.

Make no mistake about it; resisting temptation is hard, sometimes very hard. If you have little trouble avoiding sin living in this fallen world then you are either a spiritual giant or you are in denial, more likely the latter. The wiles of sin are legion in the daily life of the believer, especially at this time in human history. We are a generation of Christians who are bombarded daily by the many-headed hydra of mass media in a society where, as one commentator put it, “sin has gone mainstream.” We live in an affluent, morally permissive world in which many of us have too much time on our hands and a host of culturally sanctioned avenues to sin to fill that time. The temptation of evil is all around us today.

If we have given in to one of these temptations repeatedly then we are on the road to habitual sin, a road that ends in a very dark place if we continue on it. Resisting the enticement to commit a particular sin has a tendency to become harder after we have indulged in that sin a few times. Temptation that might have been relatively easy to resist at first becomes increasingly powerful each time that we give way to it. I do not presume to know when a “tipping point” is reached after which we are enslaved to a particular transgression; however it might come significantly sooner than we would like to believe. The web of sin is strong and quickly entwines.

This is not to say that habitual sin is always fatal, but freeing ourselves from such sin is very difficult. It is, of course, better not to go there in the first place. Once we are there, though, we must be prepared for a battle if we want to be free, a battle that involves pain…and a very real sense of loss.

Sin would never get a hold on us in the first place if it did not promise some gain that we think obedience to God either would not get us or would not get us quickly enough. The truth is that sin is, as the scripture tells us, “pleasurable for a season.” This is part of the deception of habitual sin. We like it for a while. It feels good, and fallen humans are all potential hedonists. Once we have tasted the pleasure of a certain evil habit we do not want to let that pleasure go; to do so feels like loss. True repentance is hard to even want because of this dynamic. Loss means pain and who wants that?

It will hurt to resist the soothing voice, which whispers (or screams) to us that the immediate comfort and pleasure the sin produces is what we absolutely must have at that moment. We will feel this most when we initially try to stand firm against the temptation in question. It does not feel good to deny ourselves of a gratification we have grown used to experiencing. This is the critical point when it is vital to remember the decidedly unpleasant aftermath of guilt and misery that comes when later we realize what we have done. Usually the “spiritual hangovers” from sinful behavior more than equal the fleeting pleasure that behavior brings us.

If we can begin to remember this pain when we are tempted the different kind of pain that comes from strongly resisting the lure of the sin will become, for us, the lesser of two “evils”. At such times we can sincerely ask God to give us new strength to flee or resist the enticement and then engage our will to operate in that strength. If we begin to do this consistently the pain of resistance will progressively decrease. Eventually, and it will take some time, the sin that seemed so impossible to live without will no longer have such a hold on us. Then we will become aware that we’ve successfully endured the redemptive fire of resistance to sin (and this because we have come to prefer it to the un-redemptive fire of guilt). If we continue to endure such “positive pain” under temptation we will come to know profound victory, and will be ready to enter into a higher level of holiness and intimacy with our Lord than we ever dared to imagine.

In the end it is this holiness and intimacy with Him that is greater than the pleasure of any sin…and thus also an even better reason to resist than just for the purpose of avoiding guilt feelings.

Copyright 2014 by Shea Oakley
All rights reserved

There is much we want in life that it was never God’s intention to give us. There is also much we do not want that was always His will for us to have.

Christians are no different from anyone else in being, to some degree, creatures of desire. We hope and pray that our desires are more a function of the “new creature” God has made us than “the old man” whose remains still haunt us but, either way, there is much that we want in this life. It can be no other way for beings who live in an imperfect world in which there is felt need; the strong, seemingly innate sense that we are lacking in some way that must be satisfied. This wanting may manifest itself in conscious or unconscious desire but, either way, I believe it is present in all but perhaps the most mature and, thus, content saints.

The problem is that what we want and what God knows we need is often not the same thing. Looking back on my own 23 years of faith I know that there have been many strong and seemingly reasonable desires in my heart that have not been realized, at least not yet. I also know that there have been things that I did not want in the least that God has seen fit to give me anyway. Like many believers I still wrestle with having complete peace about either of these realities.

What has been comforting in the midst of this struggle is a growing understanding that God really does know what He is doing with me and that he often withholds what I think is needful and allows what I think is not for my own eternal good. It has become increasingly evident to me that the Lord really does “work all things for the good” in my life no matter how bad those things sometimes feel and, make no mistake about it, they sometimes feel awful.

A late counselor of mine once told me that the greatest day in my temporal life would come when I could thank God for even the hardest things I have gone through. At the time I had little faith that I would ever come to such a place as I was still working on the effects of some profound losses I sustained in my past. Yet now, several years later, I am noticing that some of the most meaningful, effective and personally satisfying ministry I am taking part in would be none of those things had I not suffered for many years earlier in my life. Specifically the pain I lived through and, I hope, beyond has given me both the empathy and wisdom I need for the online Christian coaching work I began a few years ago. So it would seem that my counselor was right because, even though I cannot yet honestly say wholeheartedly that I am thankful for all the things I’ve suffered, I know that I am headed in that direction. I never thought I would be able to even say that.

Beyond that I now find myself wondering if in the long run the things I have wanted and received will end up being as precious to me, at least in their effect, as the things I didn’t want and received anyway. The Christian life is full of such paradoxes and this appears to be one of them.

So do not only be careful about what you ask for. Be careful about resisting what you haven’t. The latter may be an even greater gift than the former.