THE PRICE OF PRESENCE

 The sparrows perch offers a splendid view of life. The unending drone of life cascades over the temple walls and echoes across the courtyards. It is a low rumble punctuated with the shrill rap of a car horn, blare of a TV set, or concussion of an over powered stereo. The sparrow can't help but notice that the once familiar sound of animals being led to sacrifice has ended. The work of the one called Jesus has changed the business of the temple. The business of life leads men away from the temple and the place of relationship. Each new generation finds a new thing to pull them away from the one true place of peace and safety. Then occasionally, he sees them. At first they amazed him. How could they dare enter into the presence of the most holy God? Yet, in and out of the temple they came, men with limps. He also noticed that they didn't enter the temple that way. When they came into the courtyard, they walked with a swagger, full of confidence. They would press into the presence of God with boldness. They would stand in the place of new found relationship, resting completely upon the grace of Christ Jesus.

The songs they sing are the same every time; “More of You, Less of Me” “Just a Closer Walk with Thee,” “Sweet Hour of Prayer” “Dancing in Fields of Grace” and on and on. Each new generation goes in singing the same songs of new found relationship and freedom.

Then they go in. . . .to the presence.

Everyone that truly goes in, comes out limping. The very thing they desired most, has a price. It will cost you everything.

WHAT HAPPENED?

Isn't salvation free? Didn't Jesus pay it all? From the sparrows perch, it doesn't make sense. What happened to the joyous confident believer who stepped past the torn curtain and laid hold of the mercy seat? Why do they come out so crippled?

Wait. . . . Something is strange about the ones who limp, they are smiling. They look content. They move unevenly, but with a lightened step.

Like Jacob, there comes a moment when every Christian has to move beyond salvation into relationship. Salvation's greatest purpose was to allow us to have relationship. Yes, we can boldly approach the throne of grace. Yes the curtain has been torn and the veil lifted. Yes, there was nothing we could do to earn our salvation. It is only when we desire the presence of God, that we begin to wrestle with the message of God. The one thing I've noticed about men and women of God who live in relationship with him, is that they all have a limp. No, I'm not talking about a physical limp, I'm talking about something God has done to them to keep the relationship real. Relationship has a price.

That's unfair you say?

Talk with God. NO, I mean it literally. I dare you to go into that one place with God and tell him that you want a deeper relationship than just his being your savior. I know a man who told God that he wanted to love as Christ loved. He walks with a limp. Not a physical limp, but a place in the hollow of his spiritual thigh, where God touched him and said; You are blessed. Since that innocent prayer, he has had every despicable thing done to him that a man can have done. He's been betrayed, lied about, gossiped about, abused, used, and taken for granted. Then as if to add insult to injury, he had to watch as his son went through brain surgery for cancer. If that wasn't bad enough, he had his faith questioned, his walk criticized, and his relationship with God challenged. Yet, like Jacob, the limp means nothing. He has relationship with God. The presence of God is real and tangible. When he walks into a room, you know the presence of God lives within his temple. He walks with a pronounced limp, but the love of God exudes from him.

I also know a young woman whose life has inspired me for over twenty years. She was born with diabetes and has lived a life of pain only those with diabetes can understand. Yet, she wanted more of God. She didn't want salvation only. She wrestled with the angel of God and determined in her heart that she would serve Christ through everything. At the risk of her life, she wanted only one thing from God, a child. God gave her a daughter, but it cost her. You see, when we truly want something from God, when we want his presence, he gives us his favor, but all others will see is the limp. I guarantee you, she only sees the child.

Those who press in, those who demand that God bless them, those who won't let go, have a limp. It is not a sign of weakness, but of great strength. The favor of God resides in their lives and the limp is proof of it.

So, like the tiny sparrow in the temple courtyard, when you see someone who's gone through unimaginable circumstances, don't pity them. Don't scorn their limp. They've wrestled with the angel of God and received their blessing.  

ONE DAY IN YOUR COURTS

From the sparrows perch, it becomes clear that there is a world of difference between the 'courts' of the tabernacle, and the Holy Place where it nests. From it's perspective, sin is a gory detestable business that defies explanation. The unending parade of men, and animals through the gate is punctuated only by the fact that the people come in carrying the lamb on their shoulders only to leave a short time later without the lamb. It is a mystery to the sparrow.  The lamb did nothing to offend the creator, yet it is the one slaughtered upon the smoking altar at the front of the sparrows home. Outside the tabernacle, men have even put out snares for trapping sparrows, that they might be sold as an offering. 

Wouldn't it be easier just to stop sinning? 

From the sparrow's perch it would appear that it is impossible for men to quit sinning. The stench of the courtyard is beyond comprehension as bile, blood, and flesh are cooked in the mid-day sun. 

THIS IS WHAT SIN IS TO GOD.

What I've discovered among those who claim to be Christians, is that there is an unspoken pact not to discuss sin. Don't get me wrong, we're often the first ones to bemoan the woeful condition of the unbelieving masses. Murderers, thieves, child molesters, homosexuals, abortionists, and a host of what we decry as affronts to the heart of God. We make it our job to remind the world of it's deplorable, depraved, and wicked condition. We've become geiger-counters for sin. We are like little children who've been caught with our hand in the cookie jar, only to point out what our sibling did yesterday. 

In my last blog, I hope I proved how stupid this mindset is, especially in light of the fact that there a probably a million things we do everyday that offend the holiness of a HOLY God. Our spiritual geiger-counter would be pegging even when no one else is around. No matter how splendid our religious gown is, no matter how many things we do, there is no way we can avoid the fact that we are naked before the Lord our God. Problem is, we think our rag-tag religious robes cover our shame. Many who call themselves Christians have no real idea of the SIN they've been pardoned of. They are so busy sewing sparrow feathers together, they don't even realize they're still naked before the eyes of God. Suddenly, through the words of Christ, we come face to face with the certain knowledge that the offense isn't outside of us, it is within us. There wouldn't be enough animals to sacrifice to cover our offenses to a HOLY God. Yet, Christianity has become one big animal skin business, chucking out weekly doses of feel good designed to smooth over the fact that very few of us are truly renewed or transformed. From the sparrows perch, it is business as usual. Same courtyard, same stench, different buildings.

I promised you I would explain what God's solution was for our nakedness and shame. You see, there is a notion in the mind of man, that Adam's sin caught God by surprise. IN that one thought you've just robbed God of his omniscience. At best, you've made HIM a bumbling fool, who blindly created this lump of flesh with the naïve hope it would serve him. You've relegated him to being no different than a man or woman wishing to have a child. It negates the fact that the “lamb was slain from the foundation of the earth.” Even in his disappointment, God proclaimed the salvation to come. His promise to the woman was as dear as any husband whose caught his wife in an adulterous affair. You see, even while Eve was Adam's help-meet, she was God's lovely bride. He lovingly formed her from the bone of man, and only after he'd made her, could he pronounce that mankind was “very good.” From this union of woman and man would come death, from the union of God and woman would come life. The promise of pain in birth, is also the promise of life. That salvation wasn't at the cost of countless animals, religious observances, nor the endless bowing to a religious idea. The salvation of man would be the man God intended us to be from the very start. Christ the Son of God, became the atonement, the passover, the sabbath rest, the scapegoat, the redemption and deliverer of all men. That is how the holiness of God is resolved. Outside of man, yet through man. The sin issue becomes a non-issue. In Paul's letter to the Romans, he tries to make it clear how we are saved through the sacrificial work of one man. (Romans 5:19 specifically) From the Sparrows perch, something amazing happens. The unending parade of men and animals ends. The bleating of sheep and goats no longer fills the courts. The lowing of cattle, and the soft call of turtle doves no longer echoes through the tabernacle. The parade of death unto death is over.

In my old age and long walk with the King of Kings, I've come to realize that all the energy I've expended trying to avoid offending God was wasted effort. Through the sacrificial work of Jesus upon the cross, I've stepped into a place of relationship. I don't have to avoid anything, his Holy Spirit leads me now. I know one simple rule and it is all I need to know, if it isn't love, (real love, not lust) then I've missed Him. If I miss him, Jesus is still there to restore me to righteousness. When I am restored, I can join the Sparrow as he flies freely into the presence of God. I can sing joyfully as I embrace the righteousness I could never purchase. Now the tiny sparrow can sing joyfully in my heart as he makes his home in this well worn tabernacle. Sure, it will soon be pulled down, and rolled up, but the presence of the most high will one day restore it to better than new condition.

Sing tiny sparrow, sing.

DWELLING IN THE PRESENCE OF GOD

This is the first conversation in what I hope will be a dialogue of hope and joy. Not too long ago, I became acutely aware of my mortality. Don't get me wrong, I've always had a sense of the brevity of our time on this earthly vale. You can't be raised in an evangelical christian home without being confronted with it. In fact, I was surprised when my sixteenth birthday came and I was still alive and kicking. Imagine my surprise to wake up at 57 and realize that I am still alive and kicking. Unless I'm solving one of life's more complex issues, (what to eat for breakfast, what task to do first, etc....)I usually awake completely amazed that I'm here for another day.

What I'm feeling now is different.

There is a knowing, a gentle acceptance, that my time on this earth is less than the amount of time I've lived on it to this point. It's not a morbid thought. In fact, I've begun to think about my remaining time in a different light. Which is the reason for this blog/dialogue. I want to do more than just document my days and thoughts about those days. I hope to begin a dialogue with others of like faith. I don't want to argue, I don't want to cram my thinking down anyone's throat, I want to talk about the things of our Christian faith in a normal tone of voice without the rancor so common among the rabid of the faith. That is why I chose to title the blog “The Sparrows Perch.”

It comes from Psalms 84 and the wonder the Psalmist felt as he watched with envy the sparrows living within the tabernacle. For the Psalmist, just one day in the court of God was better than thousands among the wicked. The tiny sparrows could dare to enter the place God had forbidden men to go, except for a handful of priests. The tiny bird went about its life oblivious to the plight of mankind and the reason for the structure it now inhabited. The posts, beams, beaver skins, and draperies were perches from which to observe the business of religion. The Psalmist couldn't help but notice how everything the sparrow needed was provided for. It didn't live out its days in fear of where the next meal was coming from, how it would be dressed, or whether it could live another day. The sparrows perch was the provision of God. From there, it could witness and testify to the wickedness of man and the mercies of God. When the Psalmist wrote Psalm 91, you can tell the effect the tiny sparrow had on the Psalmist. You can see the envy with which he declares 'happy are those who dwell in the shadow of the most high.' The sparrow is free from the fowlers snare, the terrors of the hunter, the plagues, and evil of man. If the Sparrows perch is the tabernacle of God, there is nothing to fear. If his home is under the wings of the most high, then there is nothing to fear. Life will bring nothing to him that he can't escape or pass through.

For me, the sparrow's perch is a place of hope and joy. It is wondrous to live in that place where grace abounds and life is but a step to life. It is a place where the innocence of children makes me ponder the weightier things of God. It is a place where my soul is fed with the mannah from heaven. It is a place where the mercies and grace of God are revealed through the sacrificial work of the cross. The sparrows perch is beyond endless controversies and the need to be right about religion. So, everything you read here, like the Psalmist, will be my observations and how I see them fitting what I know of God.

Which brings me to the day I took my grandchildren fishing. In one instant, I learned about the holiness of God from the mouth of my two grandchildren. It was a bright clear Saturday morning, and I'd scheduled myself to do an estimate for one of the men in the church. That weekend, my wife decided to take care of little Lindsey and Brendan. The man I was going to do the estimate for, had a spring fed pond on his property and I asked him if I could bring the grandchildren with me to do some fishing. He agreed and I loaded the little ones in the front seat of my truck. I threw my rods and reels in the back of the truck, along with a can of corn, and an old tackle box. This was the first time I'd ever had any grandchild in my truck. I had to empty it of my console organizer and my briefcase in order to make room for them. I buckled them in and patted Brendan on his leg. “Alright! Let's go do some fishing.” I slipped the truck in gear and began to drive off, when Brendan patted my leg.

“Grandpa, turn the airbag off.”

“What?” I asked.

“If we're in the front seat, you have to turn the airbag off.” he explained.

“Who says?” I asked.

I didn't understand. I thought airbags were to protect us. It didn't make sense to me.

“Grandma turns her's off when we ride with her.”

Little Lindsey looks over and says “It's a law.”

“I didn't know that.” I replied.

“Why not?” Brendan asked.

Sparrow moment! I was suddenly thrust into the holiness of God, as well as the sinfulness of man in less than a second. I truly didn't know that you had to have the airbag turned off when you have children in the front seat. The airbag had never been turned off. It didn't matter, if a policeman had pulled me over for any reason, he would have written me up for failing to turn off the airbag. I was ignorant of the law, but it wouldn't have mattered. The law is the law. . . .

It doesn't take men writing down the laws to make it a law. In almost every culture, it is understood that to take a man's life without reason, is wrong. To steal is to steal, no matter where you come from or what religion you follow. To lie or deceive, is wrong in every culture. Yet, when it comes to the holiness of God, who would know that to step on a grave or touch a carcass of anything dead was wrong? Who would know that to make an altar to God made of cut stone was wrong, unless he revealed it to us. Unless he told us, we wouldn't know what was offensive to him. We would be 'sinning,' but not even realize it. There would be a judgment against us, but we wouldn't know it. For a holy, righteous God, the offense would be there, whether we realized it or not. We could complain or fain ignorance, but it wouldn't matter. As the sovereign creator of the universe, he is the one who determines what is offensive.

The arrogance of man is revealed in our efforts to excuse or diminish the offense. Religion makes some things more or less offensive to God than others. We call them laws. By doing this, we hope to make what we avoid or what we do a counterbalance to our offenses. We create a tally sheet, a ledger, from which we hope to accrue credit against the debit sheet of our sins. Our lives become a laundry list of good things we did that we hope will outweigh the offenses. It is a deplorable condition to be in. It doesn't matter whether you believe in God or not. It doesn't matter whether you've followed God's written laws as given to Moses or not. It doesn't matter. I've become convinced, that God didn't reveal everything that was an offense to him, because we couldn't have handled it. The laws given to Moses were impossible to keep as it was.

Wicked, sinful man, what is to be done? The reason God uses the phrase 'wicked, sinful,' is to make sure that everyone was covered. Wicked people don't necessarily know that they are violating God's law, because they aren't trying to live God's laws. Sinful men know what offends God and do it anyway. Hence the scripture in Romans, 'all men have sinned and fallen short of God's glory.' You suddenly find yourself in the car of life screaming: “We're all gonna die, we're all gonna die.” The chasm between you and God is beyond anything your bridge of good works can span. All your acts of obedience pale in comparison to the ignorant offenses committed over your lifetime.

BUMMER!

All the while, the sparrow pops freely in and out of the tabernacle of God. Holiness is holiness. The sparrow won't stand at the judgment seat. We will! We were better off when we didn't know we were naked. That is why the law is useless to save. It can't change us up. It doesn't make us holy. It reveals the offense, and in revealing it, makes the offense attractive. The sparrow just goes on singing praises to God, while we on the other hang our head in shame. There is seemingly no way for us to approach a holy and righteous being. What are we to do?

That will be the topic for the next blog.