See Past the Present to the Future
In the midst of some conflict in our church, yesterday's worship service was a powerful one. There was talk of healing, prayer for healing, hope for healing, and I want to say that in the midst of all that, there was some healing. Most of all, there was a sense that God was present, and where He is present there is healing and hope for more healing indeed.
Biblically and historically, there is no healing without repentance. To say it without any religious words, God can't fix stuff until you start admitting there's stuff that needs to be fixed. So I wanted to do a little repentance of my own, stirred as I was by the lessons of yesterday's service.
First, I want to repent of my unbelief, my sense of resignation that things will never change. Whether it is broken relationships, unjust systems, or sin patterns, too often I have given up on progress, defeated into thinking these things must necessarily continue into the future. To doubt God's power to heal strained relationships, transform imperfect systems, and break us out of sinful habits, is to make God awfully small.
Second, I want to repent of not wanting these things to change. As one of our pastors put it, how easily we can hesitate in actually wanting to get better. For as painful as present hurts are, there is a sick yet secure sense of comfort that comes from the control we derive from it. We can wear past hurts as badges, to derive the pity or admiration of others. We can find estranged relationships safer than the messiness of being reconnected. We can find it easier to complain as victims or cry foul as activists rather than bear the responsibility of actually doing something about it.
Third, I want to repent of not being able to see past the present to the future. As much as God is still in the business of present healings, ultimately, whether we're talking about mended bodies or mended relationships, these are just temporary fixes that point to a more permanent and far more glorious wholeness. As CS Lewis said and our pastor echoed, we are shadows of our future selves, and whether God answers our cries for healing with immediate comfort or faith to endure temporary discomfort, what sustains us are these foretastes of something far, far greater. I am more future-oriented than most, but still I forget so easily what Paul proclaims amid suffering far worse than mine: "These present sufferings aren't worthy to be compared to the glory that is to be revealed to us."
Forgive me, O LORD, for making you small, for preferring the control of present pain to the wildness of the path to healing, and for not seeing past the present to a glorious future. Forgive us as a church for these things, too. Help us to exercise faith and courage to do better, and to know that glory lies ahead not on account of the size of our faith and our courage, but on account of the size of the God in whom we place our faith and find our courage.
Biblically and historically, there is no healing without repentance. To say it without any religious words, God can't fix stuff until you start admitting there's stuff that needs to be fixed. So I wanted to do a little repentance of my own, stirred as I was by the lessons of yesterday's service.
First, I want to repent of my unbelief, my sense of resignation that things will never change. Whether it is broken relationships, unjust systems, or sin patterns, too often I have given up on progress, defeated into thinking these things must necessarily continue into the future. To doubt God's power to heal strained relationships, transform imperfect systems, and break us out of sinful habits, is to make God awfully small.
Second, I want to repent of not wanting these things to change. As one of our pastors put it, how easily we can hesitate in actually wanting to get better. For as painful as present hurts are, there is a sick yet secure sense of comfort that comes from the control we derive from it. We can wear past hurts as badges, to derive the pity or admiration of others. We can find estranged relationships safer than the messiness of being reconnected. We can find it easier to complain as victims or cry foul as activists rather than bear the responsibility of actually doing something about it.
Third, I want to repent of not being able to see past the present to the future. As much as God is still in the business of present healings, ultimately, whether we're talking about mended bodies or mended relationships, these are just temporary fixes that point to a more permanent and far more glorious wholeness. As CS Lewis said and our pastor echoed, we are shadows of our future selves, and whether God answers our cries for healing with immediate comfort or faith to endure temporary discomfort, what sustains us are these foretastes of something far, far greater. I am more future-oriented than most, but still I forget so easily what Paul proclaims amid suffering far worse than mine: "These present sufferings aren't worthy to be compared to the glory that is to be revealed to us."
Forgive me, O LORD, for making you small, for preferring the control of present pain to the wildness of the path to healing, and for not seeing past the present to a glorious future. Forgive us as a church for these things, too. Help us to exercise faith and courage to do better, and to know that glory lies ahead not on account of the size of our faith and our courage, but on account of the size of the God in whom we place our faith and find our courage.
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