It can be a hard truth to accept, but bitterness always bites back

This is the thing that needs to be lived to be really believed, though if you never need to go there, it’s a good idea not to.

Inevitably, however, in just about every one of our lives, we will be exposed to situations of deep disappointment and betrayal.  It would not be a full life if we weren’t tempted into bitterness, and please understand me, it is no shame to fall into the practice of hating a person or situation.  It’s just a lesson, and the humble attest that testing is a way of life.

There are situations and circumstances where to fall prey to bitterness is understandable.

The tragic thing for people who have suffered abuse, and have been traumatised as a result, for being abused tends to create trauma, is they will inevitably suffer additionally because of a thing called “grieving bitterness.”  This is a particular kind of bitterness that occurs where there are vast injustices, and it doesn’t get any more unjust than when the perpetrator hasn’t just harmed you, but they aren’t held to account, or they have the power to get away with it, or they refuse to repent.  It can leave a survivor of abuse in the unenviable position of having to reconcile that which is not able to be reconciled.  Still, there is an opportunity in this for the survivor of abuse to learn such an abundant grace that would ordinarily be out of reach for the average person.

The key to staving off the bitterness that can stick is to keep just enough love in our heart for the person who has betrayed, disappointed, or damaged us.  This can be achieved through an empathy for the person, which simply recognises there are reasons they behave the way they do.

Such reasons don’t EXCUSE the behaviour,
but they can help to EXPLAIN it.

Such reasons may not even be known, but to pray, “God, forgive them, because they don’t know what they’re doing, and besides, help me to forgive them, because I don’t know why they’re doing it.”  There’s a miracle of grace in accepting that we don’t know why people do the wrong they do—a miracle that accepts only God knows.

Keeping a portion of love in our heart for another person who has done us wrong is also about comprehending that no matter who they are or what they do or have done they are precious in God’s sight—and, at the right time, God will deal with them, as God will also deal with us.

Keeping that portion of love in our heart for them doesn’t mean we need to trust them.  There’s a boundary now.

Above all, as we recognise that the anger in bitterness is not an anger that will ever be satisfied, we may look higher for a wisdom that can connect us with a power for healing we don’t presently have.

When we consider our anger, if we are honest, we will determine that nothing good comes from it.  David, the psalmist, was right when he commended us not to fret, for it only causes evil (Psalm 37:8).  Indeed, Psalm 37 gives us the wisdom that overcomes the rationale to entertain bitterness.

The fact is, life will sort the evildoer out.  The one who thinks they will get away with murder will find out they got away with nothing.  The most beautiful thing about trusting this wisdom is the peace we get in advance, as if we are reaping what we’ve sown.

Bitterness always bites back.  It is utter madness to expect to be healed from the launchpad of bitterness.  While grieving bitterness may be part of our journey, we must of course transcend this season at some stage—otherwise our hopes of getting better are ever null.

It’s normal to be in the cycle of bitterness so long that we beg God in prayer for it to end.

Keeping a little bit of love in our hearts for those who wrong us is wise because it adds a protective sheath to prevent our heart from becoming calloused over.  It means they don’t win after all.  We do. Indeed, in a divine reversal of fortunes, as we forgive we take all the marauder’s power away from them!  As we forgive, we outgrow the one who hurt us in the first place.  We beat them in a game they don’t have the character to play.  And because we’ve forgiven them, we feel no need to go “Nah nah-na-na nah!”

The philosophers of old were right, forgiveness is not about them at all, it’s about us.

You know, there are some people who commit heinous crimes, and we may wonder how we can love these kinds of people.  The fact is, it’s not about the person who doesn’t seem to deserve any love, it’s about us and our spiritual health, and it’s about a God who requires that faith so as to work in our lives.

Forgiveness is so inherently linked to peace in this world.  And we can’t receive all the peace that is destined to be ours unless we are prepared to forgive all we can.

If you don’t agree with this, that’s okay, but don’t criticise me, I don’t make the rules.

When life turns suddenly eternal

“There was night for a long time, then suddenly there was day.”

It’s the simplest way I can put it, yet the saddest thing in being cut off from the night is I only ever best connect with those of the day.

Let me explain.  Life changed overnight for me nearly 20 years ago, and I was required to let go of that old life, a process that took nine whole months, to welcome a new life.

An integral part of this process was becoming a new creation from the inside out.  Yet, it seemed to happen overnight.

Like the comparison of night to day, having tried ardently to live as a Christian for nearly 13 years, yet not getting it, it took the situation of losing everything to gain something I could not ever lose.

The only problem with this lifestyle of living eternally conscious is there are so few I can genuinely connect with.  Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of people I connect with pastorally, and as a counsellor, but there are so few that connect with the eternal heart.

For me, the eternal heart is the heart of the beatitudes.  This is a spirit satisfied in lament, contented with being broken, that resists the carnal urges that woo the covetous and ambitious.  The world can’t compete once eternity’s been glimpsed. 

How can a person connect with others when they find themselves, and the heart of God, in being defeated?  This world hates defeat, but the Christ in us is not estranged to the concept, and somehow we’re humbled in the victory that can’t be defeated when we most willingly don’t fight it.

It is utterly incomprehensible to explain it to others, yet it is the place of eternity in this world.  Nobody can speak of this most dichotomous reality where you are no longer afraid of brokenness, of lament, of defeat, of despair.  Indeed, meaning and purpose is drawn from these deeper darker places.  The eternal mindset is the reversal of the world mindset.

People may wonder how they can overcome anger and bitterness and resentment.  Apart from the times I have been triggered in life, on those odd occasions where I am tempted back into the world to covet what I cannot have, I have neither the energy nor the interest in those counterfeit emotions.

I just can’t stay there 
where there is no life, 
where there is no wisdom, 
where there is no truth.

The life beyond the indignation for injustice is a life crushed like Jesus.
And being crushed is bizarrely a catharsis.

It’s a life that has a definite solution for the secondary emotions because the primary emotions are the preferred and really the only default.  It’s all that can be.

It is thereby easy to say goodbye to much of what makes us feel out of control.  But the problem is, we must accept that we will feel like strangers in this world, aliens roaming a foreign place.

It is a miracle when night turns to day, when death is given up for life, where the worldly temptations pass in preference for the heavenlies, but it is lonely, and therefore sustaining, because in loneliness there is connection with sadness and pain, which are eternal concepts from this world’s perspective.

I don’t really expect anybody to read this and to understand it, which demonstrates my point.  But if you too feel most like you’re home when you’re alone, when all is quiet, and there’s nothing to strive for, and you strive most for what this world can’t give you, you know what I mean.

If you feel loneliness renders you to peace, you know what I mean.

If you’re taken to the eternal in your pain, you connect with what I’m saying.

If rejection motivates you, eternity’s your place.

If carnal pleasures annoy you, yes, you really can’t turn back, and you don’t want to.

God’s prayer to you and I

Precious human being, made in my image,

You are my cherished one.  It is so whether you believe it or not.  I conceived you from long ago, well before your parents and grandparents got to work.  No matter what you’ve been through in life, I always wanted the best for you.  I still do and always will.

Everything you’ve been through I have seen and, believe it or not, have experienced with you.  Yes, I know the most intimate details, and I neither turned away nor did I judge you.  I know what they did!  Being in, and through, and all around you, in the painful situations I have felt your pain.  The joys I have also felt.  But the traumas you have had to bear have caused me to lament at depths you cannot possibly comprehend.

Much of what you think about me, about what I think and feel about you, isn’t correct.  The stereotypical judging, wrathful, condemning God is an absolute misrepresentation of me.  First and foremost, I set out a plan and executed it two millennia ago to deal with everything you struggle about now in terms of me and you.  I understand why you still struggle to accept my grace, for you are human, and dealing with guilt and fear and shame are not easy.  I would heal you in a heartbeat, but until I take you into my eternal presence that process cannot complete itself.

Now, about your choices.  I love you so much that I give you your will.  I desperately want you to decide every matter of your life.  And I complete my love for you in that I forgive every choice you make.  You may judge you, but I no longer do, and from an eternal concept never did.

Now, about your goals and desires.  I know what you desperately want but have not received or achieved as yet.  It annoys you that life is a mystery, but the biggest part of life is being thankful for what you have, for what you’ve done, for who you are.  You have your life, for better for worse, you have done what you could’ve done, and who you are is a delight to me.  I don’t need you to achieve what you feel compelled to achieve.  I love you anyway.  I honour your desires.  But not everything you desire is good for you.  You will understand when we meet face-to-face.

I desperately want you to see yourself as I see you.  I want you to pray the prayer, “Lord, reveal me to me how you see me.”  I want you to experience that delight I feel when I think of you.  I want you to experience my wisdom, my love, my compassion, my truth.  I want your understanding elevated as far as it is humanly possible.  This is because it is good for you.  I do want the best for you, always.

This is just a little letter from me to you.

I am the eternal God, the one and only Divine Creator.

~

Have you imagined what God thinks about you and what God feels about you?

Have you contemplated for one moment how are you are seen by the God who created you, who designed you, who formed you?

I think we have grown so used to God being judging and vengeful and wrathful that we have failed to see the true nature and character of God in the way that he sees us, his precious creations.

One of our most important prayers is to hear the prayer that God prays to us.

We need to receive this prayer, imbibe it, and be encouraged in a way that only God can encourage us, an encouragement we all struggle to receive yet that which we all strive to hear.  The reason we struggle to accept others is because we struggle to accept ourselves.  God wants to heal of us of the lack of peace we experience because of this.

Our souls cry out to the living God, to understand how he understands us, to comprehend how he comprehends us, to value and cherish us for how he values and cherishes us.

If only we would pray the prayer, “reveal me to me how you see me, Lord.”

How he sees us is infinitely better and more treasured than we can even conceive.

God’s prayer to us is a love letter.  Do you know how much you need it by how much you struggle with guilt and shame and fear and all kinds of other things that sets you apart from joy and hope and peace?

These things, guilt and shame and fear, were dealt with at the cross.  The fact that you have these things is evidence enough that you need and seek healing.  Knowing God more intimately takes us further along that journey.

A missional theology of comfort and service

The church these days is grappling with a massive departure in the ranks, a steady migration away from organised faith, toward a viral growth in western society in far less structured means of spiritual practice.  Podcasts and livestreaming services have replaced the more traditional practice of churchgoing.  People are connecting differently than ever before.

Spiritual entrepreneur, Rich Robinson in Red Skies, put it this way:

“Much of the church world has grown cold and old; institutional and narrow; combative and competitive.  Leadership is often isolated, pragmatic, program-driven, and platform-based.  We tend to lack kingdom imagination or deep, theological, and thoughtful reflection; and the underlying competition among our different tribes leaves us with an absence of collaborative discovery, a lack of leaders learning from one another.”[1]

A plethora of commentators concede that the church is at a crossroads.

There’s nothing new in this sort of commentary.  Indeed, what’s most predictable is outlined in a mishmash of the polarising mix of definitive visions—which might all prove to be wrong—juxtaposed with the confusion that underpins every change before it occurs.

And if we could find one word to define what change is, we might choose the word culture.  The church is undergoing culture change.

~

Allow me to add my voice to the mix.

Whatever the church is becoming, let’s hope it’s becoming more like its Founder, and the way the church would’ve been under his leadership 2,000 years ago.  The only difference is, we have his spiritual presence with us rather than his physical presence.

We have certainly grown tired in this day of the CEO leader who, in some ways points people to Jesus, but unfortunately is also revered a lot like Jesus.  Droves have left the fold because this love affair the church has had with a secularised model of growth and leadership has not only proved ineffective, it’s caused so much harm because it draws out the narcissist leader, and the narcissist leader is often required to prop up a narcissistic institutional culture.

I like to think that church culture in the coming day will be like Robinson says, “The genius is not in the room.  The genius IS the room.”[2]  Paradoxically, the only leader worth revering is the leader who constantly reveres the group and other individuals fairly and consistently.  The only character trait worth revering is humility, but this is a much-confused concept, because I’ve seen leaders who are full of pride whose mentors saw as humble.  Go figure.

The humble leader needs no formal mantle.  And perhaps a new version of leadership is one based in group leadership, where gifts within the group are differentiated, and no single person alone holds the keys to the kingdom.

~

Even in Jesus’ day, and especially in Jesus’ day, the Jesus movement did not exist in and of itself for itself.  The Jesus movement has always existed for others and for the sake of the world.  Every Jesus movement has its core tenet in that which is external to itself.

Notwithstanding this vision for the mission, there is also an intrinsic Venn-diagram core mutual inclusivity the church has with its responsibilities for those it draws to itself.

Yes, that’s right, given that the purpose of the church is to draw people to it, what the church does for people is not just about external activities, but it’s also equally about safe internal activities too.  While the external is about service, the internal is about comfort.

Especially given the recent history of the church, where many bear the battle scars of having been exploited and abused whether secretly or overtly, where many have rightly questioned certain outrageous institutional requirements, where many have walked away in disgust, and many have been traumatised by what they’ve seen and experienced, there is a new day and a new opportunity to practice being the church—which may be nothing any of us have seen.

~

A vision for the future of the church could be based in the words comfort and service.

Let’s look at comfort as the prime objective, and service as the prime vehicle.

We have a big problem with the word comfort, because we see it through a western lens.  We don’t often see comfort through a biblical lens.  Comfort is not the absence of pain; it is very much something we’re to feel despite the pain.  Comfort is what God wants to give us (Isaiah 40:1).  Biblical comfort is the absolute opposite to the comfort of convenience many people in western societies covet.  Biblical comfort is always about providing sanctuary amid pain.  In a world where trauma is piled atop trauma, where there is no common and global approach to ministering a helpful therapy, there is a golden opportunity for the church to engage in a mission to “save” people from their despair, as a way of giving them access to their salvation—the true abundant life of Jesus welling up to eternal life in the here-and-now.

Diane Langberg PhD says, “Trauma is the mission field of our time.”[3]  Langberg believes we could tap into that mission field that is ‘white with need’ simply by looking out for those who are suffering in this life, because where there’s suffering, there’s trauma.  The concepts of suffering and trauma are intimately connected.

We also have the same problem of misunderstanding the concept of service.  Service is so heavily reliant on motivation—“the why”—and we could argue that our motive has been skewed.  True service requires a heart that can’t fake its motive.  This is because service is a long-haul activity.  Those who truly serve do so because they want to and are called to it.

Importantly, what motivates service best is not what we will get out of it, but who we do it for, for the pleasure we give God in serving without goal for utilitarian gain.  Again, this can’t be faked, and it’s those we serve who are best positioned to judge our motives.  This puts the servant in a vulnerable position, which is how it should be.  When the effectiveness of the service I give you is totally determined by you, then and only then am I truly serving.

This is what true Christianity teaches all of us if we have been drawn into the Spirit.

We need to debunk all the wrong thinking and priorities of the past whilst being humble enough to accept that whatever we think and prioritise, apart from God, will be flawed.

We need to get rid of the search to grow the church, in order to let Christ do that for us, if it be divine will; if it isn’t, what business do we have meddling with it?  We need to get rid of this incessant drive to convert people to a fake faith of “say this prayer and it’s done.”  We need to get churches out of the business model of managing people and programs.  We even need to get out of our love affair with principles of leadership which only serve to elevate leaders’ pride and separate the church from its mission.  We need to depart from all duplicity.  How on earth does an institution that relies on heaven descend to the depths of hell for its morality?  Child sexual abuse in the church!  Nothing more needs to be said.  Add to this the need to completely repent from all kinds of trauma that we, as a church, have engaged in and executed over the decades in living memory.  There’s no place for a church that cannot own the harms it’s done.

It should seem obvious at this juncture the sorts of activities that we should be engaging in.

Those activities that are an inherent service to humanity.  Activities that can only ever be a blessing.  Activities that involve living into the example of God rather than spruiking about it.  Activities that are assuredly safe for allcomers.

~

Now we come to “the how.”  “The how” is always vexed in that confusing state of knowing a vision but not knowing how to hit the ground with it.

How do we minister comfort through the means of service, whereby both comfort and service are deeply nuanced in new ways none of us have a grasp on yet?  Only through God.

How do we become an army mobilised to bring Christ’s relief to the millions needing divine care?  Only through God.

How do we transcend our prevailing culture where an expression of rock-concert worship has become an idol in itself?  Only through God.

How do we overcome our fear for treading into the space of trauma, where we have been conditioned to accept that it is a professional-only field?  Only through God.

I’m sure I’m only scratching the surface when it comes to these questions.

All I know is that ministering in trauma is simpler than we think if we are not trying to be something clever and do something spiritual.  If our only weapon is empathy, the capacity to listen, the willingness to bear a struggle, we can serve those who simply need the comfort of human connection.  Akin to being the provision of mental health first aid, doing only what was within the capability of the average caring person is enough for many people to commence and continue their healing journey.

When we debunk every inclination to proffer theological opinions, when we check our biases, when we repent each moment and refuse to judge in any way, we’re a powerful human force for God’s good.

Christian life is more about the heart than what’s in the head.  We have a mission in being the church in this day by dropping pretence to evangelise become instruments for serving.

It’s for comfort that we, as the church, exists in this day.

---

[1] L. Rowland Smith (Eds), Red Skies: 10 Essential Conversations Exploring Our Future as the Church. Wyoming, 100 Movements, 2022. p. 149.

[2] L. Rowland Smith (Eds), Red Skies: 10 Essential Conversations Exploring Our Future as the Church. Wyoming, 100 Movements, 2022. p. 169.

[3] Philip Monroe, Must Read: Diane Langberg on “Trauma as a Mission Field” in Musings of a Christian Psychologist – June 20, 2011. https://philipmonroe.com/2011/06/20/must-read-diane-langberg-on-trauma-as-a-mission-field/ Retrieved 18 June 2022.

When your suffering makes ‘all things new’ for somebody else...

The perennial question of life is “what’s the purpose in suffering?”  If only there’s a purpose to suffering, we have a reason to endure it.

It is a much vaunted and yet thoroughly vexing question.  But the more we hold out hope that there IS a purpose in our suffering, the more we can hold our own in lament, not trying to change our circumstances, but learning to survive them, the more we realise this purpose.

There is something to be learned
in the present within our suffering, 
just as there is something to be received 
in the future for our suffering.

In the present tense, we’re able to gain access to certain divine acquisitions that we would not have obtained otherwise.  Such as, peace for situations beyond our control.  How can I say that?  “Peace for situations beyond our control.”  I say it just like this, because there IS such a thing, and this is the peace that transcends our understanding.

It is the biblical peace of Philippians chapter 4.  It is the radical reformation of our worldview.  It is the comprehensive overcoming that we always felt was within our grasp, but this came only with the benefit of hindsight, having attained this peace that transcends our understanding.  The vast and enormous paradox is that we don’t get this hindsight if we haven’t already been through hell.

But this article is about the future tense, to breed hope in the one who is struggling now.

The struggle is worth it.  The struggle is evidence of others’ struggles before we came to this place.  It’s like we have arrived at a particular road along the journey, only to find the signs that others have been here too.

There is an immense comfort being connected with others along the journey, especially those who have transcended the struggle.  They, themselves, are our witnesses of validation.

Those who have been where you’re at right now, those who have trekked this arduous track, where you see the tyre grooves of consternation and difficulty, despairing at the very points you find despairing, have transcended their bitterness, and show you a way to hope notwithstanding your present sense of defeat.

Those who have been to defeat are the very 
people who show us how to overcome.

What suffering shows us most of all is how to resource ourselves for the present moment, and for the journey ahead.  Suffering centralises our effort, and it makes us efficient in terms of what we do.  We realise we don’t have endless energy.  We therefore quarantine resources, and suffering teaches us to not linger on the problem, but search for the solution.

Think about what you are going to bring to the person ahead of you who is only just coming into their season of staggering through hell.  You won’t be showing them problems, on the contrary, you will show them solutions.  Even if those solutions feel like they’re stuck in the problem.  This is apparent because perhaps you are being helped right now by someone who has been there, in that lamentable place, and that person isn’t a naysayer.  They’re an overcomer.  That’s because they had to learn how to overcome.  It’s not words but presence that gets us through.

Your suffering makes ‘all things new’ for somebody else.  The ‘somebody else’ in your future is a big part of your purpose right now.  The struggles you bear right now pay off in the future.  We see the purpose in suffering only from the wisdom of 20/20 hindsight.

Suffering’s just like an enforced savings plan, where you have no choice but to save because your income isn’t accessible.  Except what you’re saving is hope, and the currency is faith.  Then, years ahead, suddenly the term matures, and that good hope for recovery is realised.

It’s the person coming through behind us who will benefit from our wisdom after we’ve gotten through.  Just as it is that we benefited from the person who has invested in us in our period of suffering.  Those who have been there reach out their hand to help, like the good Samaritan, because that was what they knew was needed.

My heart as a counsellor

I claim nothing special other than the call of my life, based out of my experience of being deconstructed in order that God would reconstruct me (a process that began nearly 20 years ago for me).  Out of that reconstruction I have my basis as both a pastor and counsellor.  I serve in both these capacities contingent on what I’ve received; so that others, too, would have their opportunity to receive the mentoring and counsel that I once received.

That’s it.  I am nothing else than who I am in the hands of a gracious God who would have the audacity to use someone like me.  Of course, I have what God has given me, particularly my life experiences, and these are often complementary in terms of both empathy and for sharing.

My aim is to be unimpressive.  To get out of God’s way in the process of simply being present and making copious room for the other(s) I’m privileged to join along the journey.

On occasion, my wife is called into the throng and her gifting and calling, whilst similar to mine, are expressed in a different way.  We’re both staunchly egalitarian.  And even though I have pastoral supervision and mentors, my wife is also skilled as my primary support—doesn’t work for all ministry marriages, but it works for us.  So it can be seen that I’m teachable within marriage and ministry.

I’m egalitarian for the basic reason that men are no better than (or equipped) for leadership than women are.  It takes quite an extraordinary man to live up to the standards of biblical complementarianism, and I honestly haven’t seen many men who can “lead” in the home to honour the biblical theory of complementary marriage.  And indeed, the opposite is a huge and common danger—that a man who is “head” is liable to abuse such a mantle.

My belief in egalitarianism extends beyond singling out gender roles.  It extends into the realms of power that are commonly misused, in marriages, in churches, in employment settings, etc.  There is only ONE power that is above all—that’s God.

The best systems for human interactions—and I contextualise this here regarding my counselling methods—are based on collaboration and the discerning together the right way.  There is space for everyone’s voice.  There is space to disagree.  There is also a right to feel safe, even at home to BE oneself, being honoured and respected we each reciprocate that with and to others.

I believe that God helps the counselling process when a person is honest and owns their responsibility.  This is the theology of repentance, of turning back to God.  Where people want to be helped yet can’t or won’t be honest, the help I offer will be completely ineffective.  For the person who has done all their owning, a person at the end of their tether because they can do no more, I’m a source of validation and encouragement.

I believe that God is often found amid trauma, loss, and recovery.  I believe that experiencing healing in these is foundational to credibility and empathy as a counsellor.  I believe that a counsellor who has experienced healing and is humble enough to know they’re still in recovery is the key asset someone on that journey needs as a collaborator.

I believe in an inexhaustible grace for the humbled.  For those who struggle to forgive themselves.  For those who too easily see themselves as forgiven, yet those who engage in continuing to damage others, I don’t work with those, for there is no spiritual insight yet.

I believe, however, that everyone is a 10-out-of-10 in God’s eyes, and my role is to explore my biases when I plunge into judgement for any reason.

~

I think counsellors can do a lot of good when they’re humble and servant hearted.  I see myself as a helper for those who ask my help.  I call it a privilege to help another or others.  I am foremost a servant.

The right motive for forgiveness brings hope for its achievement

One thing that’s always sat with me around forgiveness is some coaching I received from the national director I reported to in the peacemaking ministry I worked in a few years ago.

He simply said that forgiveness from the gospel viewpoint is never simply about the peace we receive, in that we aren’t to forgive just for our own benefit, but it’s because of the cross and all that that represents, that’s the Christian theology of forgiveness.

The point of forgiveness is missed if we simply do it for our own peace.  As a result, that peace we seek for ourselves actually eludes us.

I’ve thought about that advice for so long, and it’s informed how I think about forgiveness, how it’s got to be a quest for the right motivation and reason.  I thought about this so much because, to be honest, I found it incredibly challenging.  It seemed to complicate what could otherwise be rationalised as a purely secular concept.

But forgiveness is nothing like a secular concept.

~

Forgiveness is always principally a gift that is given—freely.
It’s not centrally about what peace we receive as the giver.

Only when forgiveness is extended with an 
authentic heart, and is then received,
does the giver of the forgiveness receive their peace.

But their peace is also present in seeing their own authentic heart;
their forgiving rightly motivated.

~

When I read this morning that World Forgiveness Day is on 7 July, I looked immediately at the sevens, and concluded what the number seven represents in the old language.

The number seven represents shalom, completeness, perfection in the heavenly realms, and that is what forgiveness is.  It’s perfect peace; a peace that Paul says transcends our understanding.

We know it even as we live this life in an eternal way, which is the abundant life that Jesus came to give us access to.  This eternal way of the abundant life is the opposite way of living to that we settle upon to live.  The material life and the spiritual life are opposites.  The more we give away of the material life, the more of the spiritual life we obtain.

~

What we most need and desire is connected to a peace we can only achieve through forgiveness, which is to be understood as how we’re best to connect to life.

This speaks to the truth that we are always looking to reconcile with justice.  Forgiveness and justice are intimately entwined.  This is often why forgiveness is so wretchedly hard.  Forgiveness is needed amid injustice.  Without injustice, forgiveness is unnecessary.

Forgiveness feels hardest at the very time we need to execute it.  How ironic in the realms of absurdity!

~

Peace affirms that we’re on the right track, just as being on the right track affirms our experience of peace.

Anxiety is itself a confirmation that we’re still on the journey of reconciling ourselves to the concept of peace.  And the golden paradox is, anxiety itself will lead us in the direction of peace as we learn to mediate stress discovering its causes and effects.  See how what we don’t want can lead us to what we do want?

~

As soon as we learn that forgiveness hinges on giving another person a grace they don’t deserve, we understand how we have received such forgiveness that we can never deserve.

Of course, the opposite applies: as soon as we reconcile how undeserving of God’s grace we are, it makes us think that it’s OKAY, even perfectly appropriate, if the person we are forgiving is undeserving of our forgiveness.  If they were deserving of our forgiveness, we would not need to forgive them.

As soon as our motive for forgiving someone who has hurt us aligns with the truth that none of us are worthy of God’s forgiveness, we begin to understand forgiveness from God’s aspect.  It makes forgiveness an easier task.

I hope you can see two connected ideas:

The first idea is that humanity is designed to forgive, and the proof of this is unforgiveness always leads us to poor health outcomes.  The need to forgive is interwoven into our DNA.

The second idea is there’s only one way to forgive the right way, and that is to follow the gospel way.  The gospel way is forgiving especially when it’s undeserved.  It is completely illogical, and that’s why it’s a spiritual concept.  What makes absolutely no sense from a secular worldview, makes absolute sense in the execution of it.  Again, this is a spiritual concept that must be lived to be believed, and yet it requires the ultimate sacrifice of faith.

None of us can escape this truth, and we can try and do it our own way, but it will always end up being futile.

Should I pray for a person if they’ve asked me not to?

This is not an exhaustive response to the question posed in the title, but it is my response.

How can it be right to pray for someone when they’ve asked you not to?  “Please, do NOT pray for me...” “... I don’t need your prayers...” “... I don’t want your prayers...” “... your prayers mean nothing to me...” etc.

Yet, I guarantee if you were to ask a Christian 10 years ago, and perhaps you’d get the same response now, “Would you still pray for someone who had expressly asked you not to?” I’d imagine their heart response, and therefore their action, would be, “Yes, I just wouldn’t tell them I was praying for them.”

This is a time for those prayer warriors in our midst to be honest.  Isn’t it a lack of integrity before God to intercede for a person who has expressly told us not to?  What’s the right thing to do then?

I’m saying to not pray for them, to honour what they wish from me.  If I’m to be an example of Christ to anyone I must respect their position.  I must seek to understand why they’ve reached their position, because that will help me accept their position, and I might just learn something God wants me to learn along the way.

What I’m saying is, honouring others’ wishes is vitally important.  Why would any of us get in the way of someone who has a definite spiritual position?  We’re to live and let live.

If we’re to pray about anything, perhaps we’re to seek to understand how we might relate with such a person in a way that’s of value to them; and perhaps that’s about getting out of their way.

Would it not grieve God to act deceptively?  In any way?

But here’s the thing for the Christian who’s quite devoted to prayer as part of their discipleship.

They cannot help but love everyone.  They’re committed to overcoming hurts and to the ministry of forgiveness, especially as it pertains to their relationships.  If someone seems quite definite about NOT being prayed for, the Christian will honour that wish, but the Christian may also be troubled about the distance between themselves and the person not wanting to be prayed for.  The Christian, if they’re honest, cannot help but hold this person in their mind, heart, and thoughts... and that’s prayer.  It’s not an intentional conscious prayer, but there will be a level of unconscious prayer going on because they’re concerned.

This may cause the Christian a fair bit of cognitive dissonance.  They may be troubled.  But they cannot help their unconscious thought life—and, again, that’s a form of prayer.

A person who does NOT want to be prayed for would be best advised not to mention it.

But it’s incumbent on Christians to honour the prayer wishes of all people.

What do you think?

How God used The Passion of the Christ to save my life

Can you remember where you were on 23-25 February 2004?  On these days—Monday through Wednesday—I went from the edge of death to the very meaning of life—and Jesus Christ as depicted in Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ was the making of me.

February 23 was about as intense as it gets as far as the despair of spiritual attack as I’ve come, I think.  I was at work, only six weeks after starting a brand-new job at Fremantle Port Authority as Port Safety Advisor, but I can recall making so many phone calls that day to those who had a stake in my life—and I also made a desperate call to a lifeline.  I was beside myself in an extended version of panic—a panic attack of epic proportions.

It was five months to the day since my life had been turned upside down.  Five months since I lost everything that I’d taken for granted.  I lost it all overnight.  Amid the darkest night, I had to find the strength to make a new life when I couldn’t stand to let go of the old one.

I’d come to the end of myself and what I could bear, and I reached out to the facility manager who had also been through divorce, and he told me to do what I needed to do, that I had his backing.

TRIGGER WARNING HERE... BEFORE YOU READ ON...

I’d made an agreement before I left work that day at 13:00hrs.  I’d made an agreement to go back to the dingy flat that I’d leased in Shoalwater, and I was fully of a mind to end my life.  Sorry if this upsets you, but it’s the truth of where I was at—completely not in my own mind but possessed by a need to end my pain.

(If any of this causes you distress, please, I urge you to reach out for support.)

When I arrived back there in the flat, I was in my bedroom and I can remember thinking, “It’s not going to work,” and immediately decided to keep moving.  I drove past the church I was attending in Mandurah, and felt moved on to my parents’ house, which was the catalyst I needed.  Hope returned very quickly, which goes to show that prospects can change swiftly even when you’re experiencing the worst emotional and spiritual pain.

Tuesday was a positive day.  I booked my ticket to the Australian (and worldwide) launch of The Passion.

I went to the cinema the following day, 25 February 2004, and I cannot tell you how much I wept through that first viewing.  I went SIX more times after that over the following weeks.  I felt that the movie was not only important to keep me from having another day like Monday 23 February, but I felt that I was actually suffering something like what Christ was suffering in The Passion.  I so identified with the injustice and the pain of The Passion.

What I recognised is that after five months I was no closer to resolving the crisis I was in if it depended on returning to an old life that was now in shreds.  What I was on the cusp of discovering was that the only possibility for me was to move valiantly toward a new life.  On that dark Monday 23 February 2004 day, I was stuck between being desperate for the old life and being fearful for the new.  I needed a catalyst that would catapult me toward the scary new.

In each of those seven viewings of The Passion I wept without thought or fear for who would see, hear, or know.  I just didn’t care what people thought.  What I needed to be assured of staying alive at that point in my life was to identify with Christ, and I feel the movie launched at just the right time—for me.

The interesting thing is throughout March 2004 I fasted and walked 50 kilometres most days.  Somehow, I went from that day of absolute despair on February 23 to a person possessed by the strength of hope that kept me full of life without food walking six hours a day.  The heat of summer didn’t affect me.  I felt invincible.  The revival I experienced could only have come from God.

It’s really no exaggeration to say that God used The Passion of the Christ to save my life—spiritually, yes, but also physically.  For that I’ll remain eternally thankful for it.

NOTE: if you look closely at my diary entry for 23 February, hardly any of the darkness and panic can be read on the page.  It’s enough that it’s etched into the memory.  But what is bigger than anything was how God saved me at that time.  And it’s been a constant theme by faith in my life.