Saturday, May 24, 2008

The Truth & A Confession

I was listening to one of Derek Webb's podcasts the other day. It was the one where this girl writes in and asks Derek why he lists “secular” artists as influences for his “Christian” music. Basically, his reply was that the terms “secular” and “Christian” are really just categories invented by the music industry, and that they are far too course to address the nuances of the real question at hand: what makes art true, good, edifying, and beautiful? He went on to quote Francis Shaffer, saying, “There is not truth but God's truth,” meaning that if anything is true, then it is from God. The same goes for goodness, edification, and beauty as well, because God is the origin of all these things. Thus, to judge art based on an imposed category only shows an ignorance toward real truth, goodness, edification, and beauty.

That discussion goes right along with something that I have been rolling around in my mind for quite some time: the fact that I want to believe in the truth, and nothing else.

A lot of debate occurs over the nature of truth in our world, whether it is relative or absolute. Certainly, both kinds exist. There is absolute truth – laws of the universe – physical, mental, and spiritual. These are the truths upon which the universe functions. (Oddly enough, the existence of relative truth is an example of absolute truth.) We all have some sense of this absolute truth. Some call it science, but this makes it out to be too cold and uncaring. Science is only a small formulation within the larger truth at hand. As a follower of Christ, I believe that this truth is His nature, for Christ said in John 14:6, “...I am the way, and the truth, and the life....” (NASB)

What then can we make of relative truth? Every person was made by God, and each of us has some spark of His truth and creativity within us. The way we relate to this spark, the way we relate to the absolute truth of the universe, is the basis for relative truth, for our reality. This is a lesser truth, but it is still a form of truth. Because I love Christ, I aspire to be like Him. Thus, I want my reality to align with His nature as closely as possible. This brings me back to my original premise: I want to believe in the truth and nothing else. If I believe anything that is not true, then what good is it to me? It is a delusion, so why I believe it? And if I encounter anything that is true, then I must believe it. I am a willing slave to the truth, and must be, because I am a willing servant of Christ.

The beginning, middle, and end of truth in me is a continual confession. If I am not willing to confess where and how I believe in what is not the truth, then how can I ever learn to believe what is the truth? Confession is my compass. It leads me to truth and away from lies. But confession is scary, because it goes against my pride, which is at the heart of my human nature. It means that I have to be willing – and even eager – to admit my faults and shortcomings of truth to Christ so that he can exchange them for a portion of Himself. In that way, confession is a map to all my secret hiding spots, all my refuges of self-indulgence.

That being said, in the face of all fears, here is my confession:

I confess that I know all the right words to say to hide my flaws, neatly tuck away my frayed edges, and make you think that I'm a half-decent guy, that I have it all together. I've gone to church my whole life nearly, and maybe that's how I learned not to disclose my truest nature, or maybe I just learned it on my own. Either way, I've become very good at it, the best even.

I confess that I do not know how to live in poverty or abundance. I look around at my life, and in moments of clarion introspection, I marvel at the decadence that I see. What lack do I have? What do I not have an over-abundance of? Certainly, I lack for nothing at all. Despite all of my claims to love God wholly and love others as myself, the evidence of my life indicates only a singular desire to accumulate for myself what I apparently do not believe God is sufficient to provide me. Arrogantly, I look to bank accounts and college degrees for my security, and ultimately for my worth as a person, when I actually have so much more in Christ. I hide behind these things like a little boy hides in a couch cushion fortress, complete with an imaginary and inflated sense of power.

I think you know what I am talking about, because this sense of false self-security and self-hope is really just self-righteousness, one of the few traits common to us all, even if we each are at different levels of realizing it.

I confess that my actions proclaim that I believe that following Christ means hurling myself from footstep to footstep. Though try as I do, the steps are just too big. That's fine though, because following Christ is not about obtaining a goal so much as it is about pining after a far-away lover.

I confess that if I do not forgive myself and move on to the work of the kingdom of heaven, then that is just a symptom of my unbelief in the gospel of grace, and that I do this very thing.

I confess that if I really mean to do anything about all of this, the time is now. Right now.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

This may be slightly unrelated, but what you've said here about truth reminds me of something Ive been pondering lately. Earlier I was talking to you about how current events in the world are frightening. I see, or think I see things coming together that may culminate in major changes. How much longer will we be able to attend church in public? How much longer before we are all numbers tracked in a global network...

I guess these are things that will happen, and must happen. But like most people I always rely on believing it won't ever happen to me. It will be the next generation or the next. I guess sometimes, deep down I don't really believe there is ever going to be an end. We will continue to exist in our everyday lives- eating Krystals and watching Simpson's reruns and vacationing in New York. I don't want it to end, but one day all that will be gone. And I know it will give way to something so much better, but only part of me believes that.. and none of me understands it. And I suppose that's the most unsettling part of it all.

Anonymous said...

More to the point, all I think about during your post is the verse about how hard it is for a rich man to get into heaven. He never said it was impossible... just hard.

Also, a verse I think of a lot is the one about look at the lilies in the field how they do not work hard, but God provides every thing they need to live and be beautiful.

I dont think God asks everyone to sell all that they have and follow him, but rather to always be ready and willing to do that.

You have everything you do for a reason... and God can use you even while you are hiding behind it all. All your accomplishments take on a whole new meaning when you let him shine through them.

laura said...

Yes, yes, yes...We are so abundantly blessed and when you take a really close look at those who are without, really without, you realize that you are a big, bloated whiner and should digress and use the brain given to you to think about God and why he choose to give you all the you have.
Sometimes while watching the idiot tube I see things that make me what to find a garbage can and just wretch my insides out. For me, the injustice that is out there to the children of this planet is just mind blowing. Again making me realize that I should fall prostate on the dirty floor and beg for insight and forgiven at my ugly life that is so full of all and more than I can ever use. God and His graciousness is a mystery to me and (why do I get to be so taken care of...i am a true wretch) I dare say that I am too cowardly to ever be willing to do without some of what He's given me. After all, I've worked hard and so has my husband for what we seem to have acquired. I live the lie that this is what is given to those who go to work and don't give as much thought as I should to the fact that all that I have is filthy, filthy rags and nothing is more beneficial to me than what Christ did at calvary to redeem me from myself. And then I ponder the question about how do those haunting, starving faces and eyes of the children who are so impovrished not get to be me and those like me and just wollow around in my filth and abundance? And who is actually more blessed and I know that I am indeed a coward and have become comfortable with just feeling bad when I see them. After all, what can I do for them other than pray? Most are so far away, so far away. Anyway, my heart is that I may continue to believe in the great hope that they too one day will be ushered into the kingdom of the One who can dry all tears. Oh Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ create in me a clean heart that can magnify your precious name.