On the Bane of Blessing, and Wartime

“Instruct those who are rich in this present world not to be conceited or to fix their hope on the uncertainty of riches, but on God . . .” 2 Timothy 6:17

“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all I have commanded you. . . ” Matthew 28:19-20

Over the last few years I’ve become profoundly aware of the great material blessings I possess; not simply in comparison with the other peoples of my time, but in comparison to the whole sweep of human history. Just think of it—we in 21st century America possess creature comforts simply undreamed of throughout the vast majority of human history: indoor plumbing, refrigeration, a furnace, electricity, air conditioning (in my car!), vaccines, beds that don’t have bugs, dentists, glasses/contacts—the list could go on. No other culture—either past or present—enjoys the same level of physical prosperity that we possess. The reality is stunning. Even the modest among us have creature comforts that far exceed history’s greatest emperors and kings. We live in a wonderland.

But it has also struck me just how precarious a position our privileged souls are in. Physical prosperity is both a blessing and a bane. The blessings of it are obvious; the bane more insidious. Our material comforts make it so easy for us to forget that we live in wartime—that a battle is raging for the soul of the earth. God forgive us that we should sit out the battle like Hobbits in the Shire (to steal a Tolkien analogy), lost in a vain obsession with our creature comforts while the great spiritual battles of our time rage on. God forgive us that we would allow our preoccupation with the American dream to distract us from the mission that has been set before us—the mission of making disciples of all the nations. Our fleeting moments on this earth represent our one great chance to throw ourselves into an eternal cause. This chance will not come again.

Eternity will look back upon our time—upon our age—and judge us in relation to our participation in the great mission of Christ. Will heaven sing songs of our victory and conquest? Of how we threw off the chains of ease, picked up our swords and gave our sweat and blood for the cause of Christ? Or will they sing songs of lament for how we slept through the war, drunk on the things of this world, preoccupied with our toys, our 3 weeks vacation, early retirement, and bigger houses?

Possessing wealth is not a sin. Enjoying wealth is not a sin. The Bible makes that clear. The desire for comfort is God-given. Our race was made to be kings and queens on the earth (and will be one day again). But the wealth of this fallen age has great potential to shipwreck our faith. We need not fear persecution (at present); but we need fear our prosperity. Material blessings can lead to a slow death, a quiet slide into a material fatness that leaves us devoid of spiritual vigor and life. Wealth is crouching at our door. Its desire is to have us, but we must master it. And there is no better way to master wealth than to spend it on the cause of Christ. I enjoy a nice meal out now and again, and I have a few hobbies that require a bit of money. But it is my prayer—my aim in this life—to take the great weapon of wealth that our enemy wields so skillfully against us and use it to strike against his kingdom. The cause of Christ does not hinge on the American dollar, but the Great Commission does require money. We Americans have it. Let’s not waste too much of it on silly, earthly things. We are in a war.

On Fulfillment

“And this is eternal life, that they know you the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.” John 17:3

There is a strain in Christianity today that places a premium on fulfillment. Yet I am uneasy about the inward-curved bent that has overtaken much of our Christian notions of fulfillment, turning us away from God as the chief object of our joy, and turning us toward ourselves. We mistakenly think that the pathway to happiness lies in getting in touch with ourselves. “How does this make me feel?” “What unique qualities make me special?” “What plans does God have for my life?” And of course, we ask such questions under the guise of Christianity—after all, doesn’t God want us to be happy? But getting in touch with one’s self, while not without merit, is not the final means of fulfillment. A preoccupation with how we feel about our lives, about our potential, can lead to a subversive form of self idolatry. The pathway to fulfillment is not through self-fulfillment, but through God-fulfillment. God is not primarily interested in us getting to know ourselves—we are dead-end streets. He is far more interested in us getting to know Him. And He calls us to Himself because He loves us; because He knows that the knowledge of Him is the only means to lasting happiness.

The propensity to self-obsess is pervasive in the church. Groping blindly within ourselves, we vainly search for something—anything—within us that will satisfy the sense of discontentment that we feel. And when we hear that God’s presence in our lives leads to happiness (as indeed it does), we wrongly assume that God’s primary function in our lives is to help us navigate the labyrinths of our own souls. Not so. Knowing ourselves gets us only ourselves—our finite, broken, and inward-curved selves. But knowing God gets us an experience of the infinite, whole, and self-giving God. God did not send Jesus to help us know ourselves, He sent Jesus to help us know Him.

And we must remember that God does not call us to know Him because He is needy of us. He has been ever and eternally satisfied in His Trinitarian relationships (God forbid that we should ever think He created us because He was lonely). Rather He calls us to know Him as an expression of His infinite bounty. Thus the creature’s path to happiness is not the same as that of the Creator’s. God finds legitimate pleasure in self-absorption, for He is the fount of all goodness—the infinite source of all delights. Where else would an infinite God look to find infinite satisfaction than to Himself? Yet we finite creatures are quite another story. We are not self-satisfying. We are by nature limited (and by sin fallen) and destined to find satisfaction outside of ourselves. Where else should a finite creature look for infinite satisfaction than to God Himself? He is the source of all satisfaction, all comfort and all joy, both for Himself and for us.

God will not be the means to our self-fulfillment, unless He is first the object of our self-fulfillment. And once He has become the object of our self-fulfillment, we will find that He is the sole means as well. There is no other means to God than God Himself. Are you dissatisfied with life? Seek not a deeper knowledge of yourself. Seek instead a deeper knowledge of your God.