are you REALLY ready for God's love?

I know that we're fine with the world's love. We love the kind of love that places us in control, where we can receive the joy and security of being thought of by another, but own the leverage to say when we've had enough. I've always thought that the worst kind of relationships were those when someone was more blessed by their beloved than their beloved was by them. It puts the one with more invested on the ropes, and nobody would choose to be subject to someone holding the upper hand -- not unless they felt they deserved it.

The 21st century does not appreciate neediness. The most unattractive people to the world are those that infringe upon our independence. We want to be loved by another, but not in a jealous way. We want to be loved by another, but not exclusively. We want to be loved by another, but have the freedom to divide our own loyalties among many options. We want our space!

When we take such a view of love, our real problem isn't with one another, though I find this rejection of God's intent for "one flesh" to be the primary catalyst for divorce. Our greater conflict is with the Creator of love Himself. Like it or not, our God is one that loves us jealously, exclusively, and expects our full loyalty in return. When we sneak around His love to establish other options (idols), He gets angry like the husband who wonders why his wife is still exchanging e-mails with her ex. When we run from Him, He comes chasing after us with the recklessness of one who cannot afford life without us.

Are you ready for His jealous love? Are you ready for God to own your heart? These are the same question.

I love the book of Hosea. I love that God comes across a little bipolar, because pure love can make our heart do crazy things. I love that He offers His beloved free will, but waits to pounce on the first indication that His love is reciprocated. Pure love will not be attractive unless you know that you desperately need your Beloved like he desires you. When this is understood, all measure of worldly restraint is out the window.

You should ask yourself, "Am I ready for this love?"

"Therefore I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her. There I will give her back her vineyards, and will make the valley of Achor a door of hope. There she will sing as in the days of her youth, as in the day she came up out of Egypt. In that day," declares the Lord, "you will call me 'my husband'; you will no longer call me 'my master.'" (Hosea 3:14-16)

When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. But the more I called Israel, the further they went from me. They sacrificed to the Baals and they burned incense to images. It was I who taught Ephraim to walk, taking them by the arms; but they did not realize it was I who healed them. I led them with cords of human kindness, with ties of love; I lifted the yoke from their neck and bent down to feed them...How can I give you up, Ephraim? How can I hand you over, Israel? How can I treat you like Admah? How can I make you like Zeboiim? My heart is changed within me; all my compassion is aroused. (Hosea 11:1-4,8)

But I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt. You shall acknowledge no God but me, no Savior except me. I cared for you in the desert, in the land of burning heat. When I fed them, they were satisfied; when they were satisfied, they became proud; then they forgot me. So I will come upon them like a lion, like a leopard I will lurk by the path. Like a bear robbed of her cubs, I will attack and devour them; a wild animal will tear them apart. (Hosea 13:4-8)

Return, O Israel, to the Lord your God. Your sins have been your downfall! Take words with you and return to the Lord. Say to him: "Forgive all our sins and receive us graciously, that we may offer the fruit of our lips. Assyria cannot save us; we will not mount war-horses. We will never again say 'Our gods' to what our own hands have made, for in you the fatherless find compassion." I will heal their waywardness and love them freely, for my anger has turned away from them. (Hosea 14:1-4)

when church happens

Last night, Byron arranged for the two of us to meet with Jon and Mark for supper, primarily to discuss God's prompting on their heart to leave their ministry credibility behind and start house churches. We ate a wonderful meal that Jon's wife prepared and settled to the living room.

These are my favorite moments. While I have been wrestling with God's anointing to lead for some time, I know that the Spirit has empowered me to reveal God's purposes to those that are hungry and seeking, and to see the "ripeness" of these two men to hear the word of God fueled my fire for obedience. And isn't it always like that with His gifts and purposes for our lives? We feel completely inadequate because we perceive the task through our own weakness, but when we are filled with the Spirit there is nothing else we'd rather do than His work.

I shared that being a "house church" wasn't the point; that there are many house churches that cling to the same idolatry of the world that the established church has. The point is allowing Him to build His Body around sacrifices that serve Him: the consecration of His people, the appropriate use of His resources for going and meeting the needs of the broken, and engaging in a pure worship offered in the joy of His presence rather than for self-promotion or demonstrating talents.

I've been honest with the last two church starts that I've been a part of: God hasn't wired me to find my joy in the week-to-week operations of the Body, lest I cling to the community and resist being used to start new works. He has allowed me to receive my blessings through the difficult and sometimes lonely ministry He has given me: to call His people out of retreat and into spiritual holiness. Outside of my personal time with Him, this is the only ministry through which He has allowed me to experience an overwhelming joy.

I could sit around coveting the fulfillment that most would receive through their local community, but I would be denying His anointing, and any fulfillment received otherwise would only be in meeting the needs of my flesh. The corner that I need to turn is perseverance; I need to find my rest in Him alone, and stop reaching out to the products that fulfill the world to hold me over. When I see Him on the move, I thirst for His Spirit, and if I would stop grieving the Spirit by rejecting His anointing, I would never go dry...I would never be alone.

Church happens when the interaction and sacrifice of believers speaks of the Lord's fame and glory. Oh how amazing it would be, to present His Bride to the world and speak solely of the wondrous mysteries of Christ!

grieving the loss of purity

I do not suppose it makes much sense to grieve the loss of my wife's sexual purity before we meet, but I find myself doing just that. My flesh would love to cling to an arrogant pride that says I deserve a virgin bride, but I cannot be naive. The older I get, the greater an anomaly it becomes; the greater the anomaly, the more selective we all become.

Thankfully, God has worked on my heart in this area, and has taught me much about redemption and what it means to be pure. That is to say, if He determines that a righteous woman is redeemed from her sexual past, I would be a fool to deny a gift He has granted. I must trust that God can establish a holy union of trust and security within His anointed relationship, regardless of the past that either of us bring to the table.

But if my heart is honest, I cannot deny that a difficulty remains. The women I have dated with a sexual past have not been interested in rehashing painful events for the sake of healing, and my passion for redemption will always call for that. For me, there is no experience beyond His grace, but I do expect that God would heal us to the extent that we would live as a testimony of such, rather than pushing our core pain to the depths for the enemy to use for condemnation at the least opportune moment. And I expect nothing less of the redemption of my own sin.

This is why I grieve. While I acknowledge the potential for my Father to be so good as to bless me with a virgin bride, I must allow for the statistical likelihood that we will face the greater challenge, even while I will feel inadequate to identify. And I know that I will recklessly address her pain, because I know it is better to demonstrate His glory and grace than to hide in shame. Leaving such a difficult choice in her hands will be excruciatingly vulnerable, because I will knowingly be leading her into discomfort. If she rejects my loving intent, we are certain to marry into insecurity. If she accepts the narrow path, I must watch her dive into the pain. Am I prepared to be the man that He requires and place the fragile wounds on the altar?

It seems so unnecessary. If abstinence was understood as an act of worship towards a personal God, I am convinced that men and women would purpose chastity in their hearts. But because sexual purity is presented as an uncommon expectation of a lawful and distant Father, we are too willing to miss the loving act of protection in His word. So much grief could be avoided without the complications of premarital sex, but I only seem to hear the lessons of those who did not wait and regret it. Perhaps I should be bolder about my virginity, but I fear casting guilt upon the redeemed who have worked beyond their mistakes. This is why I find healing so necessary: if our pasts could be communicated as a testimony of His grace, we could engage in honest discussion without fearing an undeserving shame.

I'm not sure what I can do the next time around, but I know that I need His wisdom. As much as I grieve for my own suspected loss, I shed more tears for the men and women that struggle to find the forgiveness that disarms Satan's lies.

still fighting my credibility

This passage has drawn a lot of my attention this week:

As you come to him, the living Stone -- rejected by men but chosen by God and precious to him -- you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. For in Scripture it says:

"See, I lay a stone in Zion, a chosen and precious cornerstone, and the one who trusts him will never be put to shame."

Now to you who believe, this stone is precious. But to those who do not believe,

"The stone the builders rejected has become the capstone,"

and,

"A stone that causes men to stumble and a rock that makes them fall."

They stumble because they disobey the message -- which is also what they were destined for.

But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness and into his wonderful light. Once you were not a people, but now you are the people of God; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.

Dear friends, I urge you, as aliens and strangers in the world, to abstain from sinful desires, which war against your soul. Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us. (1 Peter 2:4-12)

I try to wrap my mind around this term "holy priesthood," wanting to understand what else God would desire of my heart. I think of the awesome description of the holy priesthood described in Ezekiel 44:15-31, and while I love to claim this as my goal, I keep bumping into that one thing that prevents me from living completely set apart for my Lord. My struggle continues to be with my credibility.

I have a co-worker that has walked the less traveled road, and she's the butt of a lot of jokes behind her back. While I don't necessarily agree with all of the measures she has taken, I've come to realize that she's never concerned herself with being credible among her peers. She's a 40-year-old woman that still lives with her parents, her entertainment interests are off-beat, her social interactions are awkward, and she has recently become engaged to a man that will be blessed with the gift that she has never given herself to another man.

It occurred to me that it doesn't bother her in the least to be different. Maybe she's become so used to being the outsider that it's a comfortable place, but I have recently become greatly convicted by how I have treated her in my own heart. God has also allowed me to recognize another slice of pride in my life.

You see, I have no problem admitting my sexual purity, my disinterest with technology or entertainment, or my reasons for abstaining from other common acts with other believers. If anything, the church's seeming disinterest with being set apart from the world only makes me feel comparably more holy.

But God is not interested in comparisons, nor is He interested in demonstrating His glory to those that have acquired as much of God as they care to receive. He desires to manifest His glory to the lost, so that they may recognize their sin and come to honor Him with holy lives. When I straddle my faith for the sake of credibility, becoming "Radical" Anthony for the complacent believer and "Cool-in-the-know" Anthony for the lost, I sacrifice the holiness that He desires to demonstrate as the standard.

This is the trap: we think that the lost will not recognize our faith without identifying on some pop culture or social level -- in reality, what we communicate is that they can come to Christ and sacrifice none of the common things in their life. Clearly, if the common things are our bridge to credibility among the lost, we cannot with confidence express that the lost should place Him before these things.

I have come to realize that it is a much better thing to be rejected in holiness than accepted in my camaraderie. No testimony speaks louder than from the man who denies himself of common rights for the sake of a purer life. This isn't about a legalistic approach to following God. This is about a willingness to express to God through my life that the filler isn't necessary. Outside of my love for God and the overflowing love for mankind, everything else is worthless. I need to stop justifying the "usefulness" of common things, and begin pursuing Him without regard for who notices.

They are to teach my people the difference between the holy and the common and show them how to distinguish between the unclean and the clean...I am to be the only inheritance the priests have. You are to give them no possession in Israel; I will be their possession. (Ezekiel 44:23,28)

something short of holy

Our camp director used to share a variation of this parable:

Some kids from down south were traveling towards Michigan on a school trip. None of them had known the pleasure of snow before, and were eagerly anticipating the chance to ski, skate, and drill one another with perfectly formed snowballs. The bus driver, who had been to the destination, was excited on account of the kids, understanding how much of a blast they were about to have.

As the bus traveled into northern Tennessee, a few kids looked out the window and caught a glimpse of some snow off the side of the road. "Stop and let us play in the snow!" they screamed. The bus driver tried to explain that the roadside snow was dirty and undesirable, but the kids kept insisting he stop. The bus driver said, "Okay, those who want to get out can, but you are delaying the trip." A number of kids exited the bus and covered one another with the roadside snow. When they returned, they fell asleep on the bus, satisfied that the trip had been a success.

Hours later, the bus passed through Indianapolis, and some of the kids that were still awake marveled at the clumpy drifts forming in the cornfields. Some of them exclaimed, "Stop and let us play in the snow!" Again the bus driver recommended that they wait just a few more hours, and that any detour would delay the real destination. Still, many of the children insisted on stopping, and the driver let them out to jump around in the empty fields. They also returned after their interest was satisfied and promptly fell asleep.

Only a few kids were still awake as the driver rolled into Michigan, jaws dropping to the floor in wonder of the fresh blankets of snow that covered the hilly terrain. The lakes were frozen solid with thick sheets of crystal clear ice, and they could see a myriad of locals building snowmen and creating snow angels. The bus driver cheerfully announced their arrival at the winter resort, but sadly only a handful of children were interested; the others had already "seen" snow. The few that had waited patiently exited to a wonderland of snowy fun that kept them occupied for hours.

On the ride home, each child called their parents to tell them how fantastic their trip was, and how they had experienced the best of winter there was to offer, regardless of which point the child had exited to play in the snow. Each child was fully convinced that it couldn't get any better.

How do you respond when God promises you His best? Do you accept something slightly less than holy and convince yourself you've received the real deal, or do you wait for His perfect approval? Do you fudge your own desires into the journey for His destination, or do you keep the path clear of distractions? What wonderful things does God want for your life, and are you committed to accepting His perfect blessing even if you've already played in the dirty snow? Are you worth enough for His best?

being found (and being sent)

The early morning sunrise would be more magnificent were I not sleep-deprived and intent on calling it a night. The humid air rests peacefully for a change, hours ahead of the looming sweatfest of the Hoosier summer day. This is the finest hour: dew cooling the thirsty grass beneath a faint cover of fog, dividing pinks from blues.

I have witnessed the authority of my Lord in the casting of demons. I have known the joy of Christ in the laughter of a child. I have felt the presence of His Spirit on my knees in worship. However, this demonstration leaves the Fatherly impression of being safe, as if He and I are the only ones awake, and He's assuring me, "I've got this."

I am wonderfully relieved. The heaviness of my spiritual responsibility is weighted only by my fear -- my fear is founded through my underappreciation of His personal interest. How could I be so dull? Why would I presume to care more about the burden on my heart than the One who placed it there, as if the lost are not infinitely more important to Him? Do I think He would allow me to screw up His plans?

Driving with Him in the quiet of the morning is easy, and I could become easily content with just the two of us. But soon the world will wake -- they will look to meet their fleshly desires, and I know I will lack the stomach for it. And I must cry out and interrupt this current rest to offer my God to the world. Certainly, He belongs to me no more than He belongs to anything. But I belong to Him, and He asks me to share His grace. We must place a blissful retreat on the backseat, for He must make Himself known.

Through the pinks and the blues,
Through the fog and the dew,
Through the redemption of you,
He will do just that.

cramming the big picture into small frames

Specifics are fantastic -- specifics are necessary. Specifics are the details to God's Church that translate our big ball of theology into actual practice. They are the youth worker having an afternoon heart to heart with a disconnected 15-year-old. They are the college student giving a little of her weekend to serve the poor in the city. They are the husband and wife visiting the elderly woman next door to make sure everything in her home is functioning properly.

Specifics are not just important, they are observed. Through specifics, His Church is given its face. We've all read the books: we need more specifics. We understand that our faith and theology are rendered useless to the world without the church engaging in more specifics. I would venture to say, 95% of Christ's followers are either passionate about a specific or are searching to find what specifically they should be passionate about, and most of them would not be worse for it.

Nothing renders Anthony Marks more useless than becoming tangled with specifics.

Let's recount the past ten years and assess the situation: I've been a youth pastor, a church planter, a camp director, an educator, a mental health worker, and a store manager (both retail and food service). I've been passionate about churched kids, ending domestic abuse, sexual purity, spiritual freedom, worship, drama, urban restoration, Christian-owned businesses, and a smidgen of politics (even while disregarding it). At each stop, I've convinced myself that I could make a life of that sort of ministry, with that particular passion and call.

Thankfully I have spiritually wise and discerning men around me that are willing to reiterate the message I need to hear:

"Knock it off!!!"

My mistake is based out of a common sin: I want to be like everyone else.

I don't get to be. I will never be able to be. His Church suffers when I am. The quicker I accept that God has placed a greater anointing on my life, the quicker my life will bear fruit -- and I will experience the joy of serving. It seems like a simple enough contract between God and I: He gives me the call to lead, He empowers me to live within that call, and I walk in obedience.

He's made good on His end of the transaction.

I've been scared to obey because I might screw up. When God lays the big picture on my heart, it's easier to digest if I chop it up and chat about specifics. I can become "Chameleon Christian" and absorb the passion of the person sitting across from me. If they care about youth, I can care about youth. If they want to feed the poor, I can help feed the poor.

It requires the confidence of the Spirit to deliver the unabridged message He has deliberately placed on my heart: "Your passion is a small part of something SOOOOO much greater, and I'm going to tell you about it!!!"

And then I would allow God to speak like a rushing fire hose. People would hear of His never-ending pursuit of a holy people, set apart for only His purposes. They would hear of the eternal declaration of His Glory -- how He must be glorified. They would hear about His decision to include us in the grand scheme of redemption, to reconcile the broken and sick of the world to Him. They would hear about the church's one function: to serve as an earthly representation of this Christ that must be glorified, that all may know and acknowledge Him as King!

Everything else is details! All the specifics that people write incessantly about are discredited outside of the big picture. Within the big picture, God would have the everyman represent Him through the details, but specifics are nothing but works outside of the holy life! If we have the audacity to make our passion the big picture, we essentially offer the lost an incomplete Gospel, which is no Gospel at all!

I would share all these things if I were walking in obedience...