Editor’s note: (Oh wait, that’s me)… This post is a week later than I meant for it to be, but I think it’s still worth a publish.

Oh, mercy. This is going to be one of those sappy sentimental Christmas-y posts.

…

Yes. Yes it is. Just thought I’d warn you before you click the “Read more”. If you don’t want to read a bit of sappiness (get it…? Tree? Sap?? HA!), check back later.

My mom and dad were in town for a few days. As always, it was delightful to have them around. On Sunday night I said goodbye to them, went home, and immediately set up my Christmas tree.

It didn’t take me too long, namely because the tree is about 3 feet tall. I actually had enough time to run to Wal-Mart and grab a few more ornaments to spruce it  a bit (Get it? SPRUCE?).

The colors and ornaments look nicely themed (if I do say so myself), but the end result is not what I would choose if I were to sit down and start from scratch to plan out my ideal Christmas tree. The victorian-flavored dusty pink, white, silver and gold is pretty, but one might suggest that it’s not quite me.

Except… it is me. It’s about thirteen years of me. And it makes me really happy.

Growing up, our Christmas tree was never very themed. Between preschool craft projects, longstanding favorite decorations, and the fact that each family member picked out one new ornament each year, it was a somewhat messy but fun hodge-podge of color, shape, and personality. Decorating the tree was a big event each year: We would usually all pick the tree out together. Dad would set it up, untangle the lights, and light the tree himself. But then we would all take turns putting ornaments on — usually accompanied by wassail and snack foods — and spend the evening making the tree pretty, enjoying each other’s company, lighting a fire in the fireplace, and sometimes watching a Christmas movie.

Several years before I moved out to Kansas City, we started having a beautiful themed tree. Seeing as my brother and I had seriously outgrown popsicle-stick craft phase, the timing worked out well. It was a little sad to see the old toybox of a tree retired, but it was time, and it was good.

However, my mom — awesome person that she is — packed up for me all the ornaments I picked out or been given over the years. (Well, almost all — she did omit the wooden anthropomorphized cactus-cowboy, which is okay by me.) She even included a few of her own ornaments that had meant a lot to her and were some of my favorites growing up. This is what I now unpack every Christmas, and this is what I found myself handling after saying goodbye to my parents and missing them already.

(Side note: I now know why there are so many melancholy Christmas songs. If you’ve just said goodbye to your family, and your car radio promptly greets you with “Frosty the Snowman”, its enough to tempt one to punch aforementioned fictional snowman right in his corncob-piped kisser. I mean, hypothetically speaking.)

(Side note to the side note: Just kidding. Mostly.)

So Sunday night, I began decorating my little tree (“O Tinybaum”?). The ornaments are probably technically too big for it, but I don’t really care. They make me happy. They are mostly pink and involve a lot of ballerinas — pink was my favorite color for many years (although it has since been bumped out by purple), and for a long stretch of my life I was rather fascinated with all things dance-related.

I found the little Precious Moments plate that marked my first Christmas. I found the little pink-clad baby angel that marked my mom’s.

I found the ceramic Clara (of ”The Nutcracker Ballet”) ornament that my mom had gotten for me. I found the silly wooden Sugar Plum Fairy ornament that was hers, but she gave to me, because every year I loved that thing and loved getting to hang it on the tree. It’s not even pink. But it’s on my little tree.

I found the clear glass ornament that contains a dollhouse-sized christmas tree, teddy bear, and baby. My mom had made that for me when I was very small. I remember her telling me about it when I was old enough to understand and care. I remember thinking it was the BEST THING EVER that my mom had actually made me my very own ornament. I also remember that she hung it on the tree herself (because I was little enough to be apt to break it), and she always hung it — along with my brother’s handmade ornament, and the rest of the glass decorations – way at the top of the tree, so us two rambunctious kiddos wouldn’t accidentally (or, come to think of it, purposefully) knock it off and break it.

I remember having my mind blown a little bit when I was old enough to hang it up myself. I still hung it as high up on the tree as I could reach, because it seemed like the only fitting place for it.

It is now hanging at the very top of my 3-foot tree.

Even besides the ornaments I have, and the memories they summon (“I think I was given this one when I was three…” “I picked this one out when I was twelve…”), I found myself thinking back with great fondness regarding the seventeen Christmases I spent with my family before heading out here for Kansas City.

In the earlier years, there were the big silver globs of tinsel falling off the tree from when Adam and I weren’t quite old enough to get the concept of tasteful accents, and just threw wads of the stuff at it. (Especially where it was too high to reach… what else were we to do?)

There was the annual dispute over who got to hang up the ornament of the little tubby mouse “Gus” from Cinderella.

There was the mechanized “Santa’s Workshop” ornament that plugged right into a Christmas light socket — Adam and I loved that thing, but it often was not plugged in, as the incessant clicking and whirring could drive one to distraction.

There was the year we got to go to a real-deal Christmas tree farm, pick out our tree, and Dad actually cut it down himself. That was  bogglingly cool to me, and made me a little bit prouder of that tree every time I saw it and thought of it.

There was the excitement of checking the tree through December to see if a new present had showed up there yet. Then there was the shaking and guessing, which we actually were allowed to do. We were never that good at it, unless it was clothing or Legos.

There was the year my parents sent my brother and I on somewhat of a scavenger hunt to find our biggest, coolest present that year (a build-it-yourself, five-foot-tall robot). Then there was the clue that directed us to look at the place “where lumpy stuff collects”… and let’s just say Adam and I didn’t head for the candy bowl like we were supposed to.

So I’m grateful for my little tree. I’m grateful that my mom saw to it that I had a little bit of Christmas in my own room, and then was able to take it with me when I moved to KC. But I’m most grateful for how my parents have gone wayyyyy above and beyond to cultivate fun memories, and most importantly, a family history of love, honor — really enjoying each other. Though I’ve lived on my own for six years now, seeing that little tree reminds me of how great my family is and how amazing it is that I was brought up with, and still enjoy the company and support of, some of the coolest, godliest people on the planet.

I like my little tiny-baum. Even if it does make me pine for my childhood a little bit. (Get it? PINE? Oh, I crack myself up. Fir real.)

Recently, while researching different viewpoints about women in ministry (a subject I have not abandoned, by the way), I ran across a certain preacher who was taking potshots at Wonder Woman. He was decrying her as an invention of the feminist movement, which she is. But he especially took offense at how she acts too much “like a man”. Now, admittedly, I’ve never read the comics, but I would seriously doubt that to be the case. If her costume is any indication, I’d say “butch” is not exactly what the comic creator was going for.

I was discussing this with my mom the other day, and we got to talking about role models for girls in the media. The course of conversation brought up another fictitious fighter, Xena the Warrior Princess (who also received a derogatory mention from the above preacher). She’s another example of the entertainment industry’s attempt to offer girls an alternative role model to delicate wallflowers and fainting damsels in distress such as Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Rapunzel, and the like.

The secular media loves these superheroes, because when it comes to role models, it means girls no longer have to choose between being a princess and kicking tail.  In the past, in movies and stories, girls have generally been cast in the roles of: cute, boring, basically useless sidekick who gets captured and needs rescuing; delicate, lovely princess who needs rescuing (or at least has the handsome princes falling all over themselves to woo her); or — if she’s useful and has the ability to hold her own – the plain, spunky tomboy who nobody falls in love with but everyone likes to keep around anyway, because she’s just “one of the guys”. The message was fairly clear. Dainty and delicate was the way to go if you wanted to be an attractive, successful woman.

From a purely secular standpoint, Wonder Woman and Xena seem a little refreshing after that kind of stuff. This would explain why in more recent years, movie heroines have gravitated more that way. From those two already mentioned, to Fiona of Shrek and Eowen of Lord of the Rings, girls are “empowered” with the message that they can be both devastatingly beautiful and devastatingly — um, devastating.

However, there is a problem. I mean besides the fact that these are fictional characters.

Just as not all girls fit into the mold of Cinderella and Rapunzel in days gone by, not all girls today fit into the mold of Wonder Woman and Xena. It’s a redressed form of the same problem. Society tries to set up this ideal woman — and while you might count it as a win that the ideal woman now can singlehandedly rout a horde of undead ogre-monkeys (or whatever it is they do in comic books), the ideal is just as restrictive and shallow as it has ever been.

I began thinking about how one might go about addressing this problem. For starters, getting some real-life heroes might be a good idea. Getting real-life heroes who loved Jesus would be even better. I began thinking about outstanding women from history, and they come from all walks of life. Some were nuns. Some were scientists.  Some were missionaries. Some were doctors and nurses. Some were artists and writers. Some were revivalists. Some fought in battles. Some were queens. Some were stay-at-home moms. All were heroic in their own ways. All are worth admiration.

But even as I was compiling the mental list, I realized how I was making it way too complicated. By all means, I think it would be good for little girls to know about these women. But at the end of the day, it still doesn’t help anything to ask them to pick a role model, like, “Now sweetie, would you rather be like Joan of Arc, or Kathryn Kuhlman, or Susannah Wesley?” Giving them a wider selection of molds, even really good ones, does not help them fit into any given one. These women are largely famous for what they did, which may or may not match the gift mix of a little girl searching for a reference point for her life.

It then struck me how role modeling becomes really easy. Almost laughably easy, in fact. Too bad it’s not my idea… it’s Apostle Paul’s.

(Eph 5:1) Therefore be imitators of God as dear children.

(1Co 11:1) Imitate me, just as I also imitate Christ.

It really is that simple. To whom do we point girls (and boys!) as their primary role model? There’s only one Man who perfectly meets that need. It may sound like the cliche Sunday School answer, but if we take it seriously, it’s the only one that truly gives kids the groundwork to grow up into exactly the sort of godly grown-ups they are supposed to be.

Part of the reason this may sound weird to us is this thing called, “the scandal of particularity”. Jesus is uniquely Himself, distinct from any other individual on the planet, and very distinct from anyone living in our modern culture. For obvious starters, He’s God — how much can our kids really aspire to be like Him? He’s a Man — can girls really relate to Him as a role model? He was a carpenter turned preacher – will boys really be drawn to that lifestyle? And certainly none of our kids are going to get any ambitions to someday die for the sins of the world.

Jesus was (and is) a real human Being, who was born in a specific social class, in a specific place, and grew up with a specific kind of education. He had a specific trade, a specific appearance, and had specific and limited life experiences. He never married or had kids. He never had to learn trigonometry. He never had to worry about impure images leaping off of the internet at Him. He didn’t even live to see the age of 35. There are scores of things about Him we could theoretically point to and say, “I can’t relate to that at all.”

(As if we can relate to Xena. But moving on.)

However, it is this very scandal of particularity that makes us actually able to connect with Jesus. He is not some mystical figure with an uncertain history prior to the start of the story. He is a real, living, breathing human being in every sense of the word. We could never relate to an abstract figure who somehow represented “a little bit of the best in all of us”. We can relate to a real Person who is actually, wholly Himself.

And because He is set apart from us in ways we will never physically emulate — i.e. bearing the sins of the world — we aren’t going to get confused about making our personal callings match up with His. There’s no, “Well, I should probably be a warrior because my hero was a warrior”, or, “I should be a nurse because my hero was a nurse,” or, “I need to have a zillion kids because my hero did”. We simply are who we are as we try to emulate Him in the ways we’re actually supposed to. Specifically, we emulate Him in how we relate to God and to other people (which, coincedentally enough, are the First and Second Great Commandments, which according to Him, sum up everything).

The best part is He’s still around to give us pointers. We don’t even have to ask ourselves the rhetorical, “What would Jesus do?” We can actually ask Him what He would do. And through the Holy Spirit, He is only too happy to coach us through life’s trials and decisions.

Now is it good for kids to have other role models? Sure. The Bible itself is replete with them. History is full of godly men and women whom it’s wonderful to be provoked by. But at the core, it’s really simple. We aspire to be like Jesus. He is our #1 hero. We win at life when we press in to be more like Him.

Women don’t need to invent a bigger, better, super-hero-ier character for little girls to idolize. Women need to point to the one Man who lived a perfect, complete, relevant life. If the coming generation grows up saying, “I want to be like Him,” we are going to find ourselves among the most dynamic, truly liberated crew of women who ever walked the earth.

If you read this blog, I imagine you have been keeping up with the awakening meetings taking place at IHOP-KC. If by some remarkable chance you haven’t heard, the Holy Spirit has been moving on us (especially on our student body) in an unusual way lately. You can watch live meetings Wednesday-Sunday, starting at 6pm (Central), as well as watch some amazing archives and testimonies, at www.ihop.org/watch.

You can read the explanation of what is going on at the IHOP website. Plus, you can go read a couple of great posts by Zack Hensley and Randy Bohlender  with some further thoughts on the meetings. As I consider what has already been said, along with what could be said, and how much I’m still trying to get my own bearings on things right now, it is hard to decide how to write about this. At one level, I have to say something — we are having healings, deliverances, and salvations breaking out after all — but at another level, what can I say? (Except for: ”Seriously folks, if you haven’t tuned in to any of it yet, get on www.ihop.org/watch sometime this Wed-Sunday.”)

This has something to do with the pronounced lack of blog posts so far this month.

Yet as I was reading through the book of Luke recently, I was struck with two passages that exactly speak to what I’ve been feeling about this season of awakening.

I was reading in Luke 17, and ran across this in verses 7-10:

And which of you, having a servant plowing or tending sheep, will say to him when he has come in from the field, ‘Come at once and sit down to eat’? But will he not rather say to him, ‘Prepare something for my supper, and gird yourself and serve me till I have eaten and drunk, and afterward you will eat and drink’? Does he thank that servant because he did the things that were commanded him? I think not. So likewise you, when you have done all those things which you are commanded, say, ‘We are unprofitable servants. We have done what was our duty to do.’

If I may venture an interpretation of this analogy, I think of “plowing” as laboring in the place of prayer, and “tending sheep” as taking care of the daily pastoral needs of the people of God (taken from the ABCOSTOTMOTS… Amanda Beattie’s Commentary of Stuff That Occured to Me on the Spot).  From a distance, these may sound like rather glamorous things — “Ooh, I want to be an intercessor”, or “I want to be a pastor”. But in the day to day, there is a lot of blood, sweat, and tears, mostly worked out in the mundaneness of life with little recognition and frequent opposition.

Praying in a focused way is hard work, kind of like plowing — long hours pushing something through stubborn terrain, encountering all kinds of obstacles on the way, preparing for a yet-future harvest you wonder if you’ll ever see. Pastoring people is hard work, kind of like tending sheep — long hours caring for, feeding, protecting, and keeping track of creatures who may or may not have much desire or appreciation for being led.

It’s no accident that Jesus chose these two jobs for His illustration. Surely if anyone deserved a break and a few kudos after their job, it was the servant-plowman and the servant-shepherd.

Not so, according to this.

Now of course, the point is not that God actually looks down His nose at us and works us to the bone. The point is that God does not owe us anything, no matter how awesome we think we are (or are not) or how awesome anyone else thinks we are (or are not). Our biggest efforts and most dedicated labors are, in reality, nothing more than our debt to the One who has given us everything. We are not entitled to so much as a pat on the back. If He chose, He could work us into the ground without ever saying a single “thank you”, simply because we are obligated to honor and serve Him as God.

He is the Creator. We are the created. We were the fallen. He is the Redeemer. We have zero leverage to begin haggling for our fair share of the pie, because we are just “unprofitable servants”. We brought nothing to the relationship, so we can demand nothing of it. Entitlement has no place. Prideful self-aggrandizing has no place. We obey God, not because we are building credit and earning favor from Him, but because it is right for us to do so.

As I read this passage, it gave me pause. I understood all right what Jesus was saying, but I was sure I had read a parable with a much different angle just a few chapters earlier…

I flipped back in my Bible a page or two and found it in Luke 12:36-37:

…and you yourselves be like men who wait for their master, when he will return from the wedding, that when he comes and knocks they may open to him immediately. Blessed are those servants whom the master, when he comes, will find watching. Assuredly, I say to you that he will gird himself and have them sit down to eat, and will come and serve them.

There is something very important to notice about this passge: This is not normal. What’s normal is what we see Jesus talking about in chapter 17 (the passage I cited above). Servants do their master’s bidding because it’s their job. The master doesn’t fall all over himself to reward the servants for doing what he hired/bought them to do in the first place. Especially in the ancient Near East, no one would ever expect otherwise.

But when Jesus is telling us what He is like, we see that He is not the kind of master who sets us to work without a nod of thanks. He is the kind of Master who serves us. He owes us nothing, and we owe Him unceasing gifts of our time and energy. But He actually stoops down to feed us and strengthen us, even though we have absolutely zero entitlement to such treatment. He doesn’t just provide the meal, either — He Himself gets His hands dirty, so to speak, going above and beyond any expectation to serve us and lavish affection on us. He is not distant, only concerned with preserving His rank; He is meek and lowly (Matt 11:29), and He joyfully sets about serving His “unprofitable servants”.

This is what has been overwhelming me so much with the IHOPU Student Awakening meetings. At one level, I can look back at the ten-year history this place has in night and day prayer, and say: “This is the kind of thing we’ve been praying for! God is answering our prayers!” But on another level, I can’t say: “Well it’s about time! I wondered when God was going to get His act in gear and do something in this city, for crying out loud.”

God isn’t answering prayers because He is obligated to. He is answering them becuase He is mind-blowingly generous and kind. He is no more obligated to release healing than a master is obligated to wait on his servants’ tables — or wash their feet. But Jesus does both.

Every time I get to take a good look across that FSM auditorium and drink in the sights and sounds, I am profoundly overwhelmed. I see students who were mired in depression two weeks ago, now laughing hysterically. I see men and women who hobbled with pain into the building and danced out the door a few hours later. I see a couple thousand people really engaging in worship and prayer for six solid hours, not because they’re simply toughing it out, but because they actually want to be there. I see hundreds of young (and not-so-young) people giving their lives in wholearted surrender to God’s calling on their life. I see dozens of people a night getting baptized, declaring themselves dead to sin and rising to newness of life in Christ. I feel how my own heart has been disentangled from some real emotional burdens and confirmed in the Lord’s affection and calling on my life.

And the thing that brings tears to my eyes as I see this is: God is so kind to us. We don’t deserve any of this. And He’s giving it to us anyway.

There is much that could be said about these meetings. Much has been said. I’m sure I will have more to say in the days and weeks to come. But above all I am floored by the gentle kindness of the God who serves His servants. I am astounded by the generous God who gives freely of Himself to those He has purchased. I am grateful for all He has done for us and excited to see where He is leading us next.

I was thinking the other day about how much my life has been shaped over the six years I’ve been here at IHOP. The great part is that none of it has happened through large, complex, sweeping illustrations and arguments. It’s never a matter of “This teacher put together all those passages, read it through this lens, retold it with a certain kind of spin, and BAM! Suddenly I hang on his/her every word.” It’s a matter of simple, one-line statements that basically say, “Yep, the Bible actually means what it says when it says XYZ.”

When I’m in the middle of an emotional swirl, I don’t have the patience or brainpower to summon that fantastic six-point sermon. What I remember is that handful of words with the umph (and sometimes the “ouch”) behind it to pierce my own mental fog and keep me clinging to Biblical reality.

…I figure I’ve got a few more months of quoting them before I get to pull the preacher trick and just say, “It’s like I’ve always said…”

- I am loved by God, and I am a lover of God; therefore I am successful.

- God is not mostly mad or sad, but mostly glad.

- Love does not have to be mature before it’s real.

- There is a difference between weakness and rebellion.

- God’s correction is not God’s rejection.

- God will use the least severe means possible to bring the greatest number of people to the deepest level of love without violating anyone’s free will.

- Tithing: You can’t afford not to.

- We need a Judge.

What about you? What one-liners stick with you (IHOP or otherwise)? Please share in the comments.

Few things are as universally decried in today’s western Church as legalism. To many of us, the worst possible name anyone could label us is “Pharisee”. We all (rightly) want to avoid that pit of buidling rules upon rules, religiously adhering to stringent requirements that God never commanded. Most young believers today would have no problem identifying and avoiding that kind of legalism. We are culturally geared to not really like the confinements of rules anyway, so we are more than happy to call legalism what it is.

However, there’s an entire other side to legalism that the vast majority of us embrace. Ironically enough, the people most prone to it are the loudest proclaimers of personal freedom. It’s much more covert, but it’s just as real and locks our hearts up just as quickly.

There is a view that cries, “it is never enough”, and pressures people through guilt and shame into increased (joyless) works that have no bearing on righteousness. We quickly recognize that as legalism. However, there is also a view that says, “It is just enough”, claiming that bare minimal obedience is all Christians should bother with. We are no longer obliged to keep the whole law, so we’ll keep the super important parts and kind of let the rest slide. The works are seen as the grudging duty we must perform to remain in God’s good graces, the damper on our otherwise fun life.

Legalism cuts both ways.

The New Testament makes several references to the “letter” versus the “Spirit”. Many of us are all too happy to latch onto that distinction. We aren’t bound to the dead letter of the law,  so therefore, in our minds, we are free to do almost whatever we want. Sure, we need to avoid the big grevious sins, but there is a whole realm of gray area we feel liberated to play in. We’re under the New Covenant, so that whole law business is a thing of the past.

Now, it’s true that we’re no longer under the Law (and all the pork-eating Gentiles said, “amen”). So since we’re under the New Covenant, we should take some cues from Jesus as to how we live now. Isn’t it great He dismissed us from such a burdensome responsibility?

…Yes, but we need to see what He actually says before we run with what we think He says.

In roughly 1500 B.C., God’s glory descended onto Mt. Sinai and He delivered the Law to Moses. In the first century A.D., Jesus, God incarnate, stood on another mountain and delivered the Sermon on the Mount. In some ways, we can see this as a New Covenant parallel, helping show us how now we should live. So let’s see what Jesus has to say about the Law:

Do not think that I came to destroy the Law or the Prophets. I did not come to destroy but to fulfill. For assuredly, I say to you, till heaven and earth pass away, one jot or one tittle will by no means pass from the law till all is fulfilled. (Matthew 5:17)

Wait a minute. What? I thought we were released from all this unpleaseant business of the letter of the law.

We are. But we must see a crucial distinction: Jesus is not destroying the Law. He isn’t throwing it crumpled into heaven’s wastebasket as a centuries-long divine mistake. He’s fulfilling it, and giving us a way to live by the Spirit of it, rather than the letter.

So what does this look like? Jesus explains. “You have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not murder, and whoever murders will be in danger of the judgment’” (5:21). That’s the letter of the law. That’s Old Covenant stuff.

He continues, “But I say to you that whoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment” (5:22). Rather than give us license to do anything short of actually killing our brother, the Spirit actually raises the stakes. If we despise our brother in our heart, that’s just as negative as murder.

Again, Jesus speaks of the Law, saying, “You have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not commit adultry’” (5:27).

Again, He immediately ups the ante. “But I say to you that whoever looks at a woman to lust for her has already committed adultery with her in his heart” (5:28). The Spirit does not give us leave to do anything we like short of actual fornication. He actually gives us an ultimatum concerning what we do with our eyes and heart, not just our body.

I believe that one of the things Jesus accomplishes in the Sermon on the Mount is to address the issue of Isaiah 29:13 — “…these people draw near with their mouths and honor Me with their lips, but have removed their hearts far from Me…” It is possible to give God stellar lip service and be completely hardened on the inside. Many religious people in Jesus’ day were doing just that. On the outside, everything was polished to a pious glow. But on the inside, darkness and death ruled their hearts (see Matthew 23:27).

This is actually what makes a Pharisee a Pharisee. We all know the Pharisaical system for its labrynth of religious rules. We think of people bound up in excess requirements and traditions, fervently striving for a righteousness they could never attain. But what most of us don’t know is that the Pharisees were also masters of the loophole.

In order to avoid transgression, the Pharisees had built what they called a “hedge” around the Law. For instance, they didn’t want to violate the Sabbath law (which is good). So they decided how far is too far to walk, how much is too much to carry, and what household activities people may or may not do. They intentionally made their own rules much broader than the ones laid out to Moses. This way, in order to violate the actual Law, people would first have to plow down several layers of the “tradition of the elders”.

It even sounds like a logical argument — people sin a lot, so let’s set up a bunch of extra rules to try and keep people out of sin. If they accidentally break a rule, it will be one of the traditions, not one of the Ten Commandments.

The fact that it didn’t really work is beside the point right now.

The point is that, being the ones who built the hedge, the Pharisees knew all about how to get around it. Their legalism appeared to be about, “never enough…” always saying, “Do more, perform better, stretch further, and failure is inexcuseable.” However, to the Pharisees, this was still, “just enough”, giving them a new religious waterline to meet. As long as they fulfilled a certain set of standards, in keeping with the traditions, they considered themselves to have righteousness in the bag. They paid their dues, fulfilled their duties, and were thus free to live the rest of their lives.

Jesus indicts them of this duplicity with a scathing rebuke in Matthew 23. “…they bind heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on men’s shoulders” (i.e. the traditions of the elders burdening the people) “…but they themselves will not move them with one of their fingers” (the loopholes, allowing the Pharisees an easy out).

Jesus spells out a couple of these loopholes in verses 16-23.

Woe to you, blind guides, who say, “Whoever swears by the temple, it is nothing; but whoever swears by the gold of the temple, he is obliged to perform it.” Fools and blind! For which is greater, the gold or the temple that sanctifies the gold? And, “Whoever swears by the altar, it is nothing; but whoever swears by the gift that is on it, he is obliged to perform it.” Fools and blind! For which is greater, the gift or the altar that sanctifies the gift? (23:16-19)

In other words, if you vowed, “By the temple, I will do such-and-such”, you could get entirely off the hook if you backpedaled on that promise. After all, you only swore by the temple. But if you swore by the gold of the temple, you were considered to be bound to your oath.

The rule was extra, and thus more constricting, but the loophole was actually bigger. The Law itself says, “If a man makes a vow to the LORD, or swears an oath to bind himself by some agreement, he shall not break his word; he shall do according to all that proceeds out of his mouth” (Numbers 30:2, emphasis added). In other words, if you made a promise, you’d better do it. The Pharisees built a hedge around that, but they also installed an escape hatch. Keep your promise — unless you swear by something paltry enough that it magically doesn’t matter any more.

Jesus pointed out another area where the Pharisees’ hedge failed them:

Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you pay title of mint and anise and cummin, and have neglected the weighter matters of the law: justice and mercy and faith. These you ought to have done, without leaving the others undone. (23:23)

The Pharisees were obsessive tithers, even down to the most minute of their possessions. (Imagine going to your spice rack and tithing a teaspoon out of each jar.) Tithing is something God commanded of them — of their harvest and their flocks. Measuring out every tiny pantry item was going above and beyond. But in their drive to excel at the littlest details of the law, the Pharisees neglected the very heart behind Law in the first place.

Jesus hit it directly on the head with His rebuke: “Blind guides, who strain out a gnat and swallow a camel” (23:24)! The Pharisees were really good at catching miniscule infractions of the traditions. They were really bad at living for the very reason God set up the Law in the first place.

In fact, earlier in the book of Matthew, while identifying yet another loophole of the Pharisees (dodging the Fifth Commandment), he quotes that verse from Isaiah: “These people draw near to Me with their mouth, and honor Me with their lips, but their heart is far from Me” (Matt 15:8). God doesn’t care about a nice religious show. He wants our hearts.

This is where we come in. We don’t like obviously oppressive legalism. But in getting religious about not being legalistic (hah), we end up just as tangled in it as anyone has ever been.

For instance, the grumpy holiness preacher says, “Movies are all 100% evil! If you’ve ever seen anything move on a large screen, you are destined for the Lake of Fire!!” We roll our eyes at that, but then fly in the opposite direction, saying, “There’s nothing at all wrong with movies. I can watch whatever I want. I’ll just avoid the NC-17. And I just need to look away during the love scenes. And try not to repeat too much of the language outside the theater. And make sure I don’t sign up for the worldview. And make my best effort not to salivate too much over the leading man/lady.”

That’s still legalism. It’s still searching for, “What is that minimal standard that will tip the scales into ‘permissible’ range? How can I show that I honor God without having to invest my heart into it that much?”

We may find the one blogger who is deeply offended by women wearing pants, and is convinced that each inch between a dress’s hemline and the floor represents the next deeper level of perdition its owner will be banished to.  But we’re liberated women, by golly, so we’re going to keep up with the latest fashions. As long as we don’t look like we stepped off the cover of Vogue, surely we’re doing okay. If it fits right and looks good, it’s permissible for us to wear.

We don’t like the Pharisee’s rules, but we do appreciate their loopholes. We find ways to exploit the loopholes whenever possible. We just come up with the reasons to exempt ourselves, then we measure our action against our own personal checklist for righteousness, and exonerate our lifestyle simply because we can. It’s still mostly about the rules, and not very much about our hearts.

So if it’s legalism to make the rules, and it’s legalism to excuse ourselves from the rules, what is left to us?

Here’s a hint; we’re called to live by the Spirit, not the letter.

Now there are certain laws that we do adhere to because they are spelled out for us in Scripture. Things like Sermon above — do not murder, and do not be angry with your brother without a cause; do not commit adultery, but also don’t look at another person lustfully. The Bible says it, it’s incontrovertible, and so we should live it 100%. I’m certainly not suggesting that we throw out any moral code we’ve ever held.

What I am suggesting is that when it comes to the gray area, we reach for the Lord before we reach for the rulebook. We’re not looking for a complex religious ritual to help navigate the decision (overt legalism). We’re not looking for squeaking by with the minimal standard of obedience we’re obliged to meet (covert legalism). We’re looking for what the Lord is inviting us to right now. We don’t want to only honor God with our lips; we want our hearts to draw near to Him, too.

If we talk to the Holy Spirit a lot, and involve Him in our day to day decisions, it’s going to iron out a great deal for us. He is a good leader, very skilled at challenging us without overburdening us. For instance, it’s one thing to have the “movie code” I gave above. “I can watch it if it meets ABC criteria and if I do XYZ while I watch it,” is an easy rule to live by. However, what happens when we say, “Lord, what do You think about me going to see this movie…?” and actually wait to hear what He has to say?

I don’t know about you, but the second option sounds significantly more intense to me.

Living by the Spirit is not living lawlessly. It is obeying Him in what He has clearly commanded. But even more than that, it is asking Him in the areas — big and small — where we don’t have a rule to govern our every step.

Maybe the Lord tells you ”no” to the movie, even though all your friends have already seen it and assured you it’s okay. Maybe He doesn’t even say a hard “no”, but it’s clear to you that there is an invitation for you to go deeper in Him if you choose not to go. Maybe in the example of clothes-shopping, He tells you that the article of clothing is not His best for you. Or maybe He tells you to relax and enjoy it because it’s just fine, and it’s actually good for you to feel beautiful in it.

This can be frustrating to our legalist tendencies, because we just want someone to tell us what to do. But God’s not primarily interested in that. He mostly cares about what’s happening in your heart. He may say to us, “That’s great that you’re honoring Me with your lips, but where is your heart? Are you getting more tender or more hardened to Me right now?”

We don’t need a bunch of regulations that the Bible doesn’t give us. We need more fellowship with the Spirit. When we have areas of question, we hold them lightly, ready to cut the ties in a moment if the Lord says it needs to go. We should be asking Him constantly, “What do you think of this? What are you feeling about this? What are you inviting me to right now?”

I use the word “invite” on purpose, because again, this is not mainly about keeping rules. This is about engaging our hearts. We should have a higher vision than simply surviving Christianity. We should be pursuing the most vibrant, alive heart possible, and asking God how to do that in our day to day choices.

This turned out much longer than intended, but I am provoked right now. It is vital that we don’t buy into the subtle legalism of our society, pursuing minimal obedience at all costs. Free hearts which walk by the Spirit pursue righteousness, not because it’s the rule, but because it is life itself. I desperately want a heart like that, drawing near to God with all that I am.

Here I go, stating the obvious again. I seem to have a knack for doing that in my titles. Certainly nothing will draw readers in like telling them something that everyone and their dog already knows. Assuming that their dogs read or watch movies, that is. And it would also be helpful if they had a basic grasp on theology.

Anyway. The point.

I don’t really take issue with drawing theological parallels to movies. I’ve sat under a number of sermons that referenced a movie, or even played a clip from it, to illustrate a pastor’s point. I’ve seen/heard references to Lord of the Rings (particularly The Return of the King), Gladiator, The Patriot… and even Jurassic Park. No, I’m not kidding about that last one. I wish I could remember what point it was supposed to convey. Probably had something to do with spiritual warfare.

At any rate, Braveheart may well be the most-referenced movie in sermons and books ever (although I imagine LOTR has given it a run for its money). And to a point, I can understand that. I can appreciate the imagery of the unspeakable doom which befalls any evildoer stupid enough to touch the bride of the Warrior-King.  I can understand the visual of what a difference faith/hope makes in winning a battle. I can see the heroism of the martyr who will cry out for justice with his dying breath.

But in all of our parallels, we have to remember… Jesus is not Braveheart. Not even close.

In our good ol’ American paradigm, we revere the freedom fighter. We kind of have to. Our nation was founded on it. We love the picture of the hero who finally has the nerve to go toe to toe with injustice, spit in the face of the corrupt authority, and overthrow the evil overlords. As the arrows fly and the body count climbs, we cheer and root for the underdog. Go, freedom! Stick it to the man!

However, we run into a slight issue. We know that our country was founded on rebellion to oppressive government. But we also hear that our country was founded on Biblical principles. Too often we get those confused, thinking that rebellion to oppressive government is therefore a Biblical principle. It’s not.

Jesus Himself lived under an oppressive government. And unlike any other public figure in history, He had the power to singlehandedly overthrow aforementioned government, slay all His enemies with a look, and summon legions of angels to defend His cause. But He didn’t. He instead told His disciples to go above and beyond in service to the people who seemed to deserve it least — the oppressors who were ruling them. (That whole “go the extra mile” in the Sermon on the Mount? That is a specific reference to how soldiers could force a civilian to carry their armor a mile for them.) Jesus overthrew tables in the Temple, but He didn’t so much as throw a spitwad at the Roman outpost. He healed a centurion’s servant and often had dinner with tax collectors. What kind of freedom fighter is this?

When the apostle Paul said to pray for those in authority (1 Timothy 2:1-2), the man in authority at that time was Nero. That’s right, good old Rome-burning,* Christians-to-the-lions-feeding Nero. Braveheart would have had at him with a battle axe. But Paul, writing under the inspiration of the Spirit, said to actually pray for him.

But we might then wonder, what about the End Times? Isn’t Jesus coming back to make war? Isn’t He going to kill a lot of people? Won’t all the bad guys get their just deserts? Yes. Yes. And yes. But Jesus is still not Braveheart.

Consider these differences: Braveheart was initiating a rebellion, fighting tooth and nail for the freedom of his home country, attempting to shake off the oppressive regime over him. Jesus, on the other hand, is coming back to quash the rebellion that has been raging since the dawn of creation. While He is liberating the earth from the grip of sin and death, He is anything but the underdog. Seriously. This isn’t even going to be a contest. He will decidedly, firmly, and yes, meekly, lay waste to the powers of darkness — along with all human beings who sign their lives away to it. He’s not fighting so that every man can determine his own destiny. He’s crushing His adversaries to seize full, total, unchallenged rulership over the planet. He won’t run a democracy of checks and balances. He will run the most solid monarchy history has ever seen.

The main reason I care so much about this is that it’s crucial to see Jesus rightly. If we view Him through the lens of Hollywood, our image of Him (no matter how heroic) will be immensely distorted. While it’s fine to notice parallels from the silver screen, it’s dangerous to let those parallels then shape our theology. Knowing Jesus may change how we watch Braveheart, but Braveheart should not change how we know Jesus. The last thing we want is to be enamored with a fictional protagonist that bears little resemblance to our actual Lord.

This has implications to how we worship, but this also has implications to how we live. If our image of Jesus is the image of the movie hero, we will misinterpret His heart and follow in our self-created path of arrogance and rebellion. We will read Jesus’ rebukes to the Pharisees with a snicker, instead of with pain in our hearts — and then have no qualms about loosing our own tirades against religious leades in whom we perceive error. We will freely take potshots at our governmental leaders, mocking their intelligence, demeaning their character, and cheering at their failures. We will rip into other members of the Body in the name of justice. Even if the other people are completely in the wrong in all those circumstances (which is doubtful), we will have ceased to emulate Christ and begun emulating our favorite smug movie personalities.

We are not called to beat the world at its own game of malice. We are called to transcend it. Following Jesus in that “crucified life” — walking out the Sermon on the Mount — looks foolish to worldly eyes, but it is pure, unmitigated wisdom. It takes justice out of our own hands, where we would only make a mess of it anyway, with hurt people hurting people and the oppressed becoming the oppressors. It frees our heart from the pit of self-preservation. It commits our cause to the only One who has power to vindicate. If vengeance belongs to the Lord (Deuteronomy 32:35), we would be wise to back way off and leave the recompense to Him. Embrace humility. Serve and pray. And let the Lord triumph in His time and in His way.

Jesus is the most profoundly meek, kind, and honoring Person we have ever known. He is also the only One able to deliver swift, untarnished justice and do exactly what is right for the maximum good of His people. He is also the almighty King of all creation who will rule with a rod of iron in perfect gentleness and righteousness.

Jesus is not Braveheart. Praise the Lord.

————————————–

*Yes, there is historical debate about whether or not Nero deserves that whole “Fiddling while Rome burns” reputation, but you get my drift.

Before I get started, let it be known that you can download notes, MP3s, and watch videos from the celebration for free on IHOP’s website. Go to it.

IHOP’s September anniversary is always an exciting season for me. Firstly, September marks the anniversary of my arrival here in Kansas City. I was an intern with Fire in the Night who had zero intention of staying longer than three months. That was six years ago. I’m still here, still on a nocturnal schedule, and very glad of it.  Secondly, my birthday lands smack on the IHOP official anniversary. Combine those factors with the overall corporate sense of remembrance, and I always find myself looking back at how the Lord has led me and what is yet to come. It’s quite the personal milestone each year.

In no particular order, here are the things that are on my heart on the back end of this time of celebration:

Thought #1: The Lord really is sovereignly raising up a prayer movement. The first time I visited IHOP, it was still in the trailers. My youth group was there with something like 50 people, and we significantly outnumbered the NightWatchers who were actually signed up to be there. (Side note: I still remember the first set I walked into–Misty Edwards, Friday 10pm, leading her song ”I Will Follow the Lamb”. So great.)

About a year later, when I showed up for Fire in the Night, things had moved into the current location at Red Bridge. The NightWatch had grown quite a bit, but we still had lots of space to spread out in the room. It was considered an annoyingly crowded meeting if someone was sitting at the other end of your row so you couldn’t pace there anymore. During the day, you couldn’t probably get your own row, but you could get several seats to yourself most of the time with no problem. The IHOP staff from all sections all fit in the Tuesday 4pm intercession meeting. The monthly all-staff meeting fit in the Prayer Room. The bleachers in the FSM auditorium only needed to be opened for big conferences.

This past Saturday night, September 19th, at the official 10-year mark, 2,500 people packed into the FSM auditorium, completely loaded up the bleachers, and even crammed into the overflow room. Not all of these folks were staff, but they were all connected enough to come. In the NightWatch, if there are only 50 people in the room, it feels like an empty meeting. The idea of a prayer meeting that all staff could come for had to be given up a long time ago. And our monthly staff meeting requires use of the FSM bleachers.

This is not natural. It is completely unnatural for spoiled Western young adults to gather, live simply, fast, and pray as a primary profession — much less if they decide to stay up all night and do so. For this to not just be sustained for ten years, but to actually grow and thrive, has to be the hand of the Lord. And it’s not just in Kansas City, either. Where the idea of a “house of prayer” was previously unheard of in 1999, now I can think of at least a dozen specific HOP’s across the world — and those are just the ones I know of and can remember without thinking too hard, not even counting smaller prayer gatherings. If you want an encouraging look at just a few of the prayer meetings springing up across the US, just check it out here… This has got to be supernatural.

Thought #2: God is a really skillful leader. If you have not listened to any of IHOP’s prophetic history before, or if you haven’t listened to it in a long time, I would encourage you to go download the MP3s. The stories are incredible. The number of things that God told us about years before it would ever happen, and then fulfilled with startling accuracy, is mind-blowing. The number of things He had to set in motion, the number of circumstances He had to align, and the number of unrelated people He had to speak to, is staggering.

Then there’s the human dynamic. While I haven’t been here from the beginning, I’ve been here long enough to get to know the staff and leadership. I can testify that these are some of the coolest, godliest people I have ever had the privilege of meeting. But I can also testify that everyone here is profoundly, completely human. That means that the Lord leading any of us very far, with all of our doubts, confusions, excitability, rebellions, weakness, blindness, etc., is a miracle in and of itself. Nevermind a big group of us.

I can at least speak for myself in this. When I first heard about IHOP, I was deeply touched. Prayer and worship is always what I have wanted to do with my life, but I had no idea how to go about it. I was brought to tears with shock when I found out about the House of Prayer, and I felt like this was actually a course my life could take. My spirit bore witness. I had direction. This could be what the Lord was asking me to do.

Within two weeks, I had completely talked myself out of it.

I’ll cut a long story short, but nearly a year and two trips to Kansas City later, the Lord finally convinced me to come for Fire in the Night. I came in September ‘03, convinced I was only going to do one track. Towards the end of that three months, I felt I needed to do Track II, but I would certainly never move here. The day before Track II started, the Lord encountered me and I knew I had to relocate to Kansas City. That was all well and good, but I would certainly never attend the Forerunner School of Ministry. Within a few months, I was signed up to do not just FSM, but the Apostolic Preaching Program (even though, of course, I definitely wasn’t a preacher).

Now I find myself in 2009 still in Kansas City, still on the NightWatch, having graduated IHOPU and now working for it, with a heart for teaching and preaching. I was clueless 90% of the way to where I am now, but God got me here anyway. He’s a very good leader.

Thought #3: Vision is really important. We all know this. Proverbs 29:18 says it. Any leadership book or seminar will confirm it. But it’s one thing to know it, and another thing to have it impact your own heart.

This struck me most on Saturday. I had gone to the afternoon and evening sessions on Friday, so I went into Saturday pretty tired. (Note to the non-NightWatchers reading this: beings at a meeting at 2pm is super early and painful. 2pm is only eight hours after we get off of work.) I went to the 2pm session again on Saturday, ran out with my roommate for some food to go, and came straight back to FSM barely in time to save a few seats. We didn’t get back home until 10:50pm or so, giving us a grand total 0f 9 hours at the celebration. We had a 30-minute break before briefing, a set at 12 midnight, and then a viewing of that morning’s sesison on DVD at 2:30am. We didn’t get into the prayer room in a non-platform way until almost 5am.

Now at this point, I’d had two really long days. I was exhausted. My feet hurt. I wanted to go to bed. There was only an hour left of the prayer meeting anyway.

Eventually, I decided to stick it out. Trying to do my daily reading was tough. I kept fuzzing out on the words, having to read the same verse 3 or 4 times over to actually register what I was looking at. But within 10 minutes, I began to click with the prayer meeting. Soon, it was hard to get my reading done, not because it was so difficult to stay focused, but because I was so engaged with the corporate meeting that I almost couldn’t help but get up and pace (sore feet and all) and pray for the city.

Despite my physical exhaustion, I had vision. I came fresh out of three packed days of prophecy and encouragement. I knew for sure why I’m here at IHOP, and I knew for sure what is set before me to do, both as a believer in general and an intercessory missionary specifically. Because I remembered how much the Lord cared about what I was doing, it gave me renewed zeal to actually do it. That short hour in the prayer room was one of the most enjoyable I’ve had in a good while. Vision matters. Big time.

Thought #4: Jesus is coming back soon. Enough said. It’s true. Whether “soon” means in the next decade or in the next century, the hour is late. We need to live like it.

Thought #5: I get to run with some stinking cool people. From the videos honoring different ministry and service departments, to the interviews with the original handful of intercessory missionaries, to my roommates and other fellow NightWatchers I sat with on September 19th, I am amazed at the quality of people I get to serve with. I’m talking about people with integrity, faithfulness, and a genuine hunger for righteousness. I’m talking about people who will gladly work really hard for a really long time in complete hiddenness. I’m talking about people who have so given themselves to the Word that their speech is filled with wisdom and real encouragement. I couldn’t ask for better friends and co-laborers, and I am so grateful to God for the community here.

Thought #6: I’m in this for the long haul. Whether I stay at IHOP-KC for the rest of my life (and right now, I kind of hope I do!), or whether I am given a different assignment in the future, I want to be in the prayer movement. I want to be a woman who gives herself to 24/7 prayer, fasting, the Word, and works of justice, whether I’m wearing the staff badge or not. It may look different at different times, but this is what I was made to do.

Thought #7: Be prepared to be blown away by people who are currently 12 years old and younger. I see what the Lord is doing among children, both here and elsewhere in the earth, and I love what I’m seeing. Kids are not the church of tomorrow. They are the church now. And everywhere that the leadership buys into that idea, the children are taking off in the Lord. Here at IHOP, there are eleven-year olds who already give us “old” twenty-somethings a run for our money when it comes to worship leading, preaching, and prophesying (with accompanying signs and wonders). Give them another ten years to build even on top of that, and they are going to be the most phenomenal men and women of God this earth has ever seen. There are going to be some older folks in on this too, but watch out for those kids. For real. And have them pray for you.

Ten years is a long time, but it’s also a short time. I’ve been here for more than half of it, and it has flown by. And this is only the beginning. I am in great anticipation of where the Lord is taking us next.

Here’s to another decade of a ceaseless fragrance rising from Kansas City. Help us Lord, and may Your will be done.

I’ve got a real post in the works as we speak. However, it’s late. It’s also been a very long time since I’ve posted something truly random and bizarre on this site. And this video made me extremely happy. So behold: my random find of the month.

(P.S. If someone can give me the rough idea of what’s being said at the end, you’re my hero.)

…are all over the place. Several of them will read this post. One of them wrote it.

Okay, so no study has shown that, per se. But I’m trying (rather lamely) to make a point here. Because if I didn’t write that title myself, I would probably click through it expecting to see a real study that had unearthed real motives that drive all people who believe stereotypes. This tells me that I am one of those people. And my opinion is that we buy into stereotypes because they–like so many other things in our society–are quick, convenient, and comfortable.

Allow me to explain what started me thinking about this.

A while back a particular micro-blogger who I follow and enjoy wrote a post regarding the common knowledge that women talk more than men. We’ve all heard it; women speak some thousands of words per day, and men speak some thousands fewer words per day. The man comes home from work, his word-tank spent already, and the woman still has whole half a tank left to talk about. She wants to process, but he wants to grunt, and thus marital conflict can erupt. Everybody knows this.

Too bad it is totally untrue.

(Read the blog post here. If you choose to follow further links from there to the original study, be forewarned that you will encounter some PG-13 language.)

It was an interesting post. Turns out nobody had actually counted men and women’s spoken words before. When someone finally did, they discovered that there is no significant statistical difference between how much men and women have to say.

The discovery made me rather happy. Readers of this blog may not have picked up on it, but those who know me in person can testify that (under most circumstances) I just don’t talk that much.  If I think I have something to say, I’ll say it. Otherwise, I’m pretty content to just listen. And it’s not a matter of me being an anomaly to the traditional female chatterbox — because, as it turns out, there is no such thing in the first place.

On the other side of things, I have some guy friends who can talk to anybody, anywhere, for any period of time. They’re good at it and they love it, and I love that they’re such adept conversationalists. And they’re not breaking the traditional caveman role, because, again, such a role is entirely imaginary.

Somebody actually went to the effort of recording and counting the words people spoke to figure that out. The stereotypes of men and women’s speech patterns didn’t hold water.

At first, I thought the study was groundbreaking. Then I realized it was also pretty obvious. If we, the human race, would have taken more stock of the individual men and women around us, and not just assumed a caveman/chatterbox dichotomy, we might have figured this out a lot sooner.

I read through the blog’s comments expecting to find pretty much the same sentiment echoed over and over again. But count that as another stereotype that bit the dust that day. To be sure, that was most of what was going around, but I also found comments like this:

Since I am a man I will keep this short. Women talk more than men.

The smilie face made me hope and assume sarcasm was at work, and for all I know it was. But then I read this, by a different commenter:

This is one of those studies where it just doesn’t pass the reasonableness test. Women talk more, it’s just a fact and everyone knows it.

Now, I don’t particularly care if a random person in cyberspace assumes I am a non-stop yapper because of my gender. But I was astonished to read this and see how deeply stereotypes can become ingrained in us. Despite a real-deal scientific study, and despite the testimony of a couple dozen men and women confirming the findings, this commenter wouldn’t budge on their position.

Let’s leave aside for a moment the complete lack of logic in the argument. What I wanted to know was how this person could come to such a firm conviction, not even an official, measured study could unseat the stereotype. And — taking it personally — where are my blind spots in this area? And why do I fall back on them?

One circumstantial factor, I believe, is our fascination with statistics, followed up with our subsequent misapplication of them.

For instance, there are a lot of things that are statistically true, but absolutely absurd in reality. Consider this statement from The Guardian, released in March of this year: “The average American woman has 2.1 children in her lifetime”. Statistically, that’s true. But no lady in America has .1 of a kid. Some have 2. Some have 3. Some have 13. Some don’t have any. Yet add up all the born babies and divide by all the adult women, and you end up with the tidy average of 2.1. It’s a true statistic, but it has no real bearing on any one woman (or fraction of a child) you’ll meet in the United States.

Another thing with statistics is that something can be generally true of a group of people, without being true of any particular individual within that collective. For instance, statistics say college-educated people have bigger incomes than those who have only completed high school. That’s a generally true statement. Most college graduates do make more money than most high school graduates. But at the same time, it is completely possible to find a college grad flipping burgers for minimum wage, and it is completely possible to find a high school grad successfully making their way in the business world (it’s been done). Skipping college and landing a lucrative career is not statistically likely, but that doesn’t mean a particular individual can’t do it. You can’t look at someone’s degree and assume their income bracket. The stereotype breaks down when it hits real life.

Ultimately, though, I believe the main reason we continue clinging to stereotypes is because it’s comfortable. It’s low-risk. It allows us to think we are gathering information about other people, without having to stop insulating and isolating ourselves (AKA, “seeking [our] own desires”, Prov 18:1). Who needs to risk real contact and conversation–and thus potential pain and rejection–when we can know all about someone just by observing their gender / race / age / handicap / weight / height / attractiveness / income / tone of voice / hairstyle / gait / clothing brand / etc.? Why muddle around with personal questions and real time investments when we can form a perfectly “good” opinion on our own? Why bother that much with the Body of Christ, so long as we have their Myers-Briggs readouts? (Yes, stereotypes fail even regarding personality profiles.)

We, as the human race, stereotype each other all the time. In the West, our Greek heritage has a tendency to steer us towards the desire to file things away in neat little boxes. When we understand something, we master it, we no longer have to contend with it in our mind or heart, and we feel more at ease. Being able to look at another human being and say, “Oh, I understand you, because you fit XYZ” can be terrifically comfortable. But in reality, it’s partitioning each other off in neat little boxes, assuming much, actually knowing little, and feeling barely at all.

As Christians, we have a higher calling. We’re not supposed to see each other through the lens of stereotypes. We are called and invited to see each other as the Lord sees. This takes supernatural enabling, because it is altogether human to look at the outward aspects. It is the Lord who sees to someone’s heart, the core of who they actually are (1Sam 16:7).

For instance, I, like anyone else, fit a profile that carries with it a number of given stereotypes. The outward specs say: white + female + twenty-something + churchgoing + unmarried + nearsighted + pretty smart + homeschooled + soft-spoken + INFJ personality. I fit that description. A person could draw some conclusions about me based on what you read there. They would probably be right about some things. They would probably be wrong about others. But for many intents and purposes, that would be all that most people need to know about me to decide what they think of me.

However, the Lord doesn’t see me through that lens. He of course knows that all those things are true about me. He’s the one who built me in the first place. Yet that alone doesn’t shape His opinion of me. He doesn’t see me as 0.000983% of a particular demographic. He doesn’t see me in contrast to the “average woman”. He sees me to the most minute quirks of my personality. He already understands and delights in the parts of me that don’t gel with statistical profiling. He sees my real heart response to trials and victories. He sees how other people affect me emotionally. He sees my battle for righteousness. He sees my inward hopes and dreams. He sees old wounds and sinful tendencies. He knows every strength. He knows every weakness. He knows my past, and He knows my destiny. He knows what enthralls my heart and He knows what kills it. And all of His dealings with me are in love, taking into account all of that and more. And His relationship with you is the same — uniquely knowing you, uniquely understanding you, uniquely knowing how to lead you well.

Our God does not deal in stereotypes. And we should strive to emulate Him in that way.

Now obviously, the whole finitude thing prevents us from knowing someone as thoroughly as God does. But what we can do is actually interact with them, all the while asking God what He thinks of them, and backing off from forumulating our own (semi-)educated guess. We can echo Psalm 139, for ourselves and for those around us, and declare, “…fearfully and wonderfully made; marvelous are Your works…” (Psalm 139:14). We will end up knowing them better. We will end up appreciating who they actually are. We will certainly end up liking them better. Most importantly, we will actually be able to love them.

Real love is hindered if we are constantly grappling with our preconceived image of the person. We can only serve and pour ourselves out for someone who is real in our own eyes. We can’t show Christ-like love to a statistic. But when we see as He sees, we will begin to want to love as He loves. And the more we love like He loves, the more we will see as He sees. It’s a very good cycle to get into. And it’s a cycle I want to getting into ASAP.

Running and hiding doesn’t immediately summon images of heroism. And to be truthful, a lot of times, running and hiding is simple cowardice. On many occasions, the Lord has called people to obey in the face of seemingly impossible odds. In these instances, backing out would have been succumbing to fear and rebellion.

But as saturated as our culture is with action flicks, we have an immense admiration for crazy guys who look danger in the face and laugh. We cheer when the cinematic protagonist, armed with nothing more than a pie tin and plastic spoon, rallies himself to charge the bad guys head-on as his friends are all begging him not to go and get himself killed. Then, of course, since this is Hollywood, he trounces all opposition, suffering nothing more than the obligatory flesh wound on the bulging bicep. We gawk at and envy this kind of self-assured boldness. We applaud the foolhardiness and invincibility complex, calling it “courage”. We begin to admire real life people who are prepared to forge ahead, come what may, giving no thought to potential consequences.

However, the book of Proverbs shows us that there is a time where the heroic thing is actually to run and hide.

“A prudent man foresees evil and hides himself, but the simple pass on and are punished” (Proverbs 22:3, see also 27:12).

I believe there is a natural application to this — i.e., having the presence of mind to recognize a bad situation and not go there — i.e., “Hmm, there’s a lightning storm outside. This is probably a bad time to fix that shingle on the peak of the roof.”

But what’s striking me most is the spiritual application this has to us as believers.

All too often, we want to be the spiritual action hero. We feel that if we are truly spiritual — and we do have the indwelling Spirit, after all — we should be able to plow ahead through whatever evil temptation and come through unscathed. Hanging out with that certain group of friends? No problem. Dropping in at the cool downtown hotspot? Piece of cake. Alone late at night browsing YouTube? Bring it.

There is a simple phrase that I’ve heard quite a bit from people around my age. It makes me fear for their spiritual safety more than just about anything else. Four little words that carry very bad news: “I can handle it.”

To their credit, it’s true that the Lord has given us everything we need for life and godliness. It’s true that, by living in a fallen world, we constantly find ourselves in a very unsavory spiritual environment. It’s true that just because temptation is out there, it doesn’t mean we have to cave to it at the first mention.

The problem is, the Bible doesn’t say that the prudent (wise) people “can handle it”. It says that the prudent people hide. The commendation is not for the one who marches up and stares down temptation, but for the one who wants nothing to do with it in the first place.

Paul says it a slightly different way. When writing to Corinth, a church struggling in the middle of an incredibly perverse city, he told them bluntly, “Flee sexual immorality”
(1Cor 6:18).  ”…[M]y beloved, flee from idolatry” (1Cor 10:14). Both of these things abounded in Corinth. It would take concerted effort and lots of awkward social situations for the Corinthian believers to run away from this kind of sin. But the wickedness of the city had already seeped into the local body of Christ, and their only recourse was to turn tail and run.

That’s all well and good for Corinth, we might say. But Corinth was clearly a mess. They obviously couldn’t handle the pressure.

Perhaps that was so, but we must look again at another couple of letters from the apostle.

Paul was writing to Timothy, who was no rookie believer by any means. Timothy was one of Paul’s right-hand guys.  He called him a “true son in the faith” (1Tim 1:2), and had set him as a pastor over a very challenging church situation in Ephesus. Paul would not have worked with Timothy like he did were he not convinced that this was a rock-solid, dedicated man of faith.

However, when it came to matters of greed, discontent and strife, here were his instructions: “But you, O man of God, flee these things…” (1Tim 6:11, emphasis added). In his next letter, he would say again, “Flee also youthful lusts…” (2Tim 2:22). He didn’t tell Timothy to man up and deal with it. He didn’t pat him on the back and tell him that he was mature enough to handle it. He urged him to run the other way.

Jesus Himself taught us to pray, “…do not lead us into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one” (Matt 6:13). When it came to temptation, He didn’t just tell us to ask for the guts to stand up to it. He told us to pray that God would help steer us clear of it entirely.

Biblically, there is nothing praiseworthy about putting ourselves in a compromising situation, expecting to weather it. But there is something deeply commendable about running (1Tim 6:11) and hiding (Prov 22:3) from it.

We all have our weak points. We undoubtedly know what most of them are. Perhaps we know that if we call that one friend when we’re having that particular kind of bad day, we will end up in unrighteous conversation. Or maybe we know that if we watch a certain kind of movie, that certain ungodly desire will be stirred up in us. We might recognize that the ads on that one website are a continual harassment to our reach for purity. According to Proverbs, we can foresee the evil that lies there.

So what now? Wisdom doesn’t say grit your teeth and plug through. Wisdom says to hide. Wisdom flees to the Lord before the moment of crisis, asking Him to deliver us from evil before we get there. And then wisdom follows through. It calls the other friend who will (lovingly) hold your feet to the fire in righteousness. It throws the DVD out. It blocks the website from any future access.

Sometimes heroes are called to face down danger. But when the danger is temptation, it is only the fools who rush in and reap the consequences. A people walking wisely with their God recognize the snare and take refuge in their God. In this instance, it may be said that the real heroes run and hide.