Monday, October 4, 2010
So what was God’s plan?
His plan was to get a group of men to come together to build. To brand themselves uniquely with different names, different modes of worship, so that there could be some sort of uniqueness. His plan was to get people together in gatherings where in unity they would sit down, stand up, dance, clap, pray, raise hands, wave hands, talk to their neighbours, give an offering when told to. His plan was that there would be a unique language, or parlance or lingo, used by faithful faithfuls that made no sense in the actual language but that was understood in these unique circles, with words like ‘I am strong’ when one was sick, or ‘it is well’ when one needed to talk, or ‘My brother’ when you gave no thought about the welfare of the other.
His plan was that after each service, people walk out into godlessness, not aware of His ever-watchful eyes as they went about their business. His plan was that people could rip each other to shreds, with their mouths, with their actions, with their intentions…and even do so in the name of the lord – and yet feel nothing. Or maybe not feel nothing, but feel that what they felt, that little nudge of a still small voice was nothing.
Going on, his plan was that the few men who would build, and brand would also stand grand above the faithful band of God seekers, and would show them how to obey God, how to live for him, how to live their lives, how to handle every detail of their lives…because they knew about each and every one of these God seekers, their pains, frustrations, their backgrounds, their learning styles, their hopes, dreams and their divine destiny. By virtue of ‘leadership’ they knew it all.
Maybe God sits, silent, watching and constantly waiting, hoping, loving- and knowing.
Maybe if God was man he would wonder why Adam walked away from his love, why he called to the people and they elected Moses to be a go between, when, like a father, he wanted to dance with them all – because he could.
Maybe he would wonder why, after he grudgingly allowed Moses to ‘lead’ these people, they still did not come close. They drifted further and asked for a King. Maybe it would have torn his heart, wondering why men always seemed to prefer substitute relationships instead of just being with him. For Christ's sake, he had been enough for Enoch, and Abraham and Moses and Jacob and Paul! Even Moses, like Saul, was bound to fail, because what the people did not understand was that God alone had all it took to lead them and relate with them.
And maybe, if God was mad, in between teary eyes and a longing heart, he would have sent his son to change it all. To make all things new, watch as his kid was beaten and bruised as they both pursued a new living way. And as we all know, they both gazed in smiles as the veil was ripped in two, worried Pharisees scurrying like mice, not understanding with open blind eyes the prophecies that were fulfilled that should have made them as glad as aged Simeon. Their hearts were used to a norm that they would do anything to live by and live for, and even kill for if necessary, with God’s words…aye, they would try to kill Lazarus and send him back to his lodge in Hades!
But scarcely was the veil ripped that the weakness of man unfurled again. From all being equal and being brethren with the Lord, all having all things in common and all seeking, knowing and fellowshipping with God, person to person, each knowing him and telling the other about their unique fellowship, a fellowship that brought a true, sincere bond, there slowly came Constantine and Luther, service on a Sunday morning and cathedrals, priests made way for pastor, both complete with robes and a worshipping crowd. The rituals were taken away to become the service order – and the Centre, the very Lord, became the ‘other’, sitting silently in services, as men’s eyes watch with delight at dancing, purring pastors in clean suits and flashy carriages. Deacons and the board fight to climb the corporate religious ladders, to uphold the unique ‘Christian’ brand, as business techniques are taught during the rituals, pardon me, the service.
The sermon is over, the building now called church, and believed to be the House of God, is empty. The houses of God who will receive none of the tithe and wonder why their souls are parched have gone into their cars, or buses to go back to the routine of a godly godless lie…pardon me, life. The doors are finally closing, the cleaner comes through and all is quiet in the building, quiet enough to hear the silent drip of tears.
I had hoped that they would want to TRY to know me, to try to seek me personally. Not fight about things I said in letters written by dead men, that were to be directions to seek ME. Not base their lives around dogma that did not draw them close to me.
But maybe John is wrong. Maybe all is well. We are happy and we are ‘blessed’ in all that we do for ‘God is with us’ and ‘it is well’, for ‘we shall not die but live’, and are ‘covered by the blood of Jesus’
Or maybe the simple question is, if it’s not ALL about HIM, what the HELL is it all about?