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When you’re reading through the Bible, do you have someone you vibe with? Someone that really resonates with you, even in their yucky parts?
I relate to John the Baptist. That man was wild, intense and a little unhinged. I don’t relate on the locust-eating level, but I too have a thirst for swift judgment–it’s the enneagram 8 in me.
We find John the Baptist in Matthew 3 preaching repentance because God’s kingdom was about to reign. He knew the time of waiting was over, the Messiah was here. The King was here. But maybe not the way he thought. John was so passionate, probably thinking Jesus was about to turn the world upside down.
Not in a slow, steady, messy, devastating way. I bet he didn’t expect him to be crucified in three short years. Or for there to be more suffering, persecution, death, and even centuries more for the Kingdom to actually come–the New Heaven and Earth.
Jesus was there with John in the flesh! Was that not the perfect time to usher in the Kingdom of God? His job was to prepare the way for Jesus. Make straight, fix the road, bring down the hammer and fight Jesus’ battles before He even got there. And he was successful. A lot of people believed and were baptized. He protected the message against the religious. He was about wrath, axes, fire, winnowing forks. John was ready for the fire to fall in a major way.
In Matthew 3:11-12, I love how John says, “Jesus will baptize you with the Holy Spirit..oh and FIRE!” It just takes it up a notch. John had some pretty severe expectations. But Jesus was different than he expected.
In the next few verses, Jesus walks up on the scene and asks John to baptize him. Jesus? He doesn’t need to be clean. He is Jesus! He is pure. He has no sin. Why does he want to be lowered into the water? Lowered from his status and lowered into humility. Baptism is for sinners. But Jesus insisted.
This was a lesson in humility. A lowering. Aligning himself with us as our example. John didn’t get it. I don’t usually get it at first either.
God doesn’t come like we expect.
A baby isn’t what we expected.
A suffering servant isn’t what we expected.
A carpenter isn’t what we expected.
A merciful, gracious, Savior isn’t what we expected.
John the Baptist thought he would get as many people to repent as possible, then Jesus would come and punish the rest for not listening.
Isn’t that what we want sometimes? If I do what’s right, follow the rules, I will be rewarded and those who don’t will be punished.
It’s only fair. But fair is a four-letter-word. It feels good to say, but it isn’t super helpful.
John expected Jesus to bring judgment down on the world, not take the judgement of the world on Himself.
God isn’t like we expect.
Jesus came humbly, ministered in mercy, and suffered on a cross rather than sit on a throne.
Suffering was always His plan.
That felt a little wrong to write–did it feel wrong to read? But God’s plan to save humanity required Jesus’ suffering.
If our Savior suffered we can expect to suffer.
John the baptist had no idea how he would suffer in the end. I imagine he would have chosen to avoid prison and a beheading (Matthew 14:1-12). But I also believe John wouldn’t have changed a thing about his story–suffering and all.
It feels silly and small to write about suffering with the current circumstances of our world.
But suffering isn’t a cornered market. It doesn’t have pre-requisites or limits. It isn’t measurable or objective. Suffering comes for us all.
And your suffering isn’t less heavy or hard just because you aren’t the only one suffering. It doesn’t work like that. In a not-so-funny way, there is plenty of suffering to go around.
On October 29, 2021 the last line of my journal reads, “I’m tired of suffering. Does it have an end?”
I don’t know that suffering has an end. It’s like a door once opened that will always be cracked.
It opens our eyes to a world we were once blind to.
It opens our eyes to the heart of God.
The heart which both allows deep pain, but holds space for the greatest comfort.
The heart that sent His Son to the cross, but made a way for you to experience mercy.
The heart that demands holiness, but provides grace.
There is a depth to the things of God that can only be accessed through the pain of suffering.
Maybe your life isn’t turning out like you expected.
Maybe it’s even worse than that.
Maybe you have been asking God for an end to your suffering.
But what if that’s not the answer? What if we aren’t meant to try to escape our suffering, but to embrace it?
What if in that embrace you are embracing the very heart of God?
Lately, I’ve been interested in the people of scripture we don’t hear about from stage, in books or on podcasts. Who are the people God considered important enough to mention, but not in detail? Why are their names printed in ink, but not their stories?
The Scriptures are not only God-breathed, inerrant and inspired, but they are intentional. Nothing printed is wasted.
There are three people whose were new to me, so I took a deep dive.
Eliab’s name might sound familiar from David’s anointing as king of Israel in 1 Samuel 16. Eliab was David’s oldest brother and the first son Samuel thought would be the next king based solely on his appearance. He’s the reason we were told not to judge by appearance, because the Lord looks at the heart (v. 7).
Poor, tall, good-looking Eliab was rejected by God based on the contents of his heart—oof. He was the firstborn, he had the looks comparable to King Saul – it should be him. Or so he thought. Eliab listens as Samuel tells each of his brothers, “The Lord has not chosen you.” He’s thinking there’s been a mistake, especially when his younger brother is requested to come. It can’t be David.
Guess what? It’s David.
Samuel anoints him to be king right there in front of all his brothers. I can’t imagine the jealousy Eliab was experiencing. David is off to Saul’s palace to play music while Eliab enlists in the army.
Then, Goliath shows up on the scene taunting Israel’s army. David shows up with some sandwiches for his brothers, only to hear Goliath and wonder why all the men are hiding in fear. David asks why they’re allowing someone to taunt the living God. Innocent question…that ticks Eliab right off. He’s over being outdone by his kid brother. He accuses him of having an evil heart just after Samuel selects him based on the contents of his heart. Eliab’s insecurities and fears are evident in his outburst.
Don’t we all do this? Someone gets the promotion we wanted, and we say, “She manipulated her way to the top.” Our neighbor gets a brand new car, and we say, “There’s no way they can afford that–they must be doing something shady.” Our boss takes an expensive vacation, and we say, “He doesn’t work as hard as I do.”
We make excuses for others’ success to explain our insecurities.
Next is found in 2 Chronicles 22, in the midst of multiple leadership changes in Israel. Athaliah is the mother of a newly-installed king named Ahaziah. Her husband, Jehoram just died a slow, painful death at the hand of God for leading Israel away from God and murdering his own brothers. (If you think you have stomach problems, you should check out 2 Chronicles 21.)
Athaliah is the ultimate stage mom for her 22-year-old son. She was his “counselor in doing wickedly” (2 Chronicles 22:3). We can assume she was the downfall of both her husband and her son because of the evil in her heart toward the things of God. When her son was eventually murdered, she killed as many of her grandchildren and heirs to the throne as she could so she would reign as Queen. Talk about a power trip. This woman was willing to murder her entire family to gain power. Her allegiance was always to herself, her country, her customs and her judgment.
Now, I’m not suggesting we would murder our family to stay on top, but we can have her attitude in many ways. Have you tried to control a situation at home by not telling the whole story so your husband doesn’t blame you for the missed bill, the dent in the car or the Amazon purchase? Have you spread negative information at work to keep the girl below you from succeeding? Have you deleted emails or texts so no one will know what you’re really involved in? Athaliah’s core issue was pride and the pursuit of power. We all have a tendency to protect the “power” we hold in our lives.
Last up with another impossible-to-pronounce name: Ahitophel. He was a counselor of King David who was known for his wisdom. It’s also widely believed he was Bathsheba’s grandfather (2 Samuel 11:3; 23:34), which explains what’s about to go down.
After David committed the sin of sleeping with Bathsheba and murdering her husband, Ahitophel had enough. A seed was planted and beginning to take root. When David’s son Absalom was plotting to overthrow the throne, Ahitophel took his shot. He jumped ship to join Absalom and conspire against David. When David found out, he prayed God would turn Ahitophel’s counsel into foolishness. He knew he was in trouble. Soon Ahitophel had his opportunity when Absalom asked for his advice on how to prove his kingship. Ahitophel instructs him to sleep with all of David’s concubines on the roof of the palace to show Israel who’s boss (2 Samuel 16:21). Does the location sound familiar? Ahitophel wanted David to experience the pain of his granddaughter’s disgrace on the same rooftop. Absalom did exactly as Ahitophel said, afterall, he was known in Israel as the mouthpiece of God. But, no one knew what was in his heart. In chapter 17, he took it too far. He instructed Absalom to make war on David immediately, but Absalom consulted one more advisor just to be sure. The guy advises him in another direction, but once Ahitophel found out his advice was ignored, he went home and hanged himself. His pride had placed him in an impossible situation. Not only was he embarrassed his plan to overthrow David after all these years was ruined, but he would likely die in battle with Absalom or be murdered by David for betrayal. Ahitophel had let bitterness grow for so long that it stole his life.
Hebrews 12:15 MSG “Keep a sharp eye out for weeds of bitter discontent. A thistle or two gone to seed can ruin a whole garden in no time.”
Bitterness is a poisonous root. It will grow slowly over time. If left unchecked, it has the power to ruin your life. Maybe not as dramatically as Ahitophel’s end, but it promises to produce bad fruit. Is there a hurt in your heart you’ve allowed to go untouched? Are you angry with someone who harmed you years ago? Do you need to clear out any bitter roots in your spirit that are beginning to affect your attitude or actions?
There is no shortage of unnamed or unpopular characters in the Bible. We can learn so much from people who God thought important enough to simply mention. Dig into those impossible-to-pronounce names and side stories – if God thought them important enough to mention, they’re important enough to know.
Deconstruction is an intimidating word. Like anything today, it’s polarizing–maybe even a little controversial. My goal is to make it a little less scary, because, like you, I’m not an expert. But I am a firm believer in being a participant in what’s going on in culture to expand our influence and speak life, love and truth into our communities. I’m sure we’ll get it wrong, too heavy-handed, too lighthearted, or maybe even a little biased, but if you’ll agree to enter gracefully, so will I.
Let me start by saying deconstruction is not new. In fact, it’s not even a cultural “trend.” It’s a philosophical analysis–a way of thinking, that was coined in the 1960’s by some French philosophers. It came to mean a dismantling of tradition and traditional thought processes. It’s basically a continual questioning of what’s commonly held as fact (proven or not). Today, it’s mainly associated with religious tradition. It has become a buzzword in Christian circles as people have tried to put a name on what they are experiencing.
There is no shortage of articles on the topic, and if you’d like to dig in, just be prepared for a ton of negativity. Anything threatening a long-held belief, system, or structure is a no-no for most groups of people. But I think a lot of the negativity comes from a lack of understanding.
For our purposes, deconstruction of faith is the pulling apart and examination of your belief system.
That still may feel a little scary to some, but to me it sounds like an invitation.
I’ve always been a fan of asking questions–of getting to the bottom of things. We won’t believe something for very long if we don’t know why we believe it. And to figure out the “why,” we’ve got to examine our beliefs. There comes a time when you begin to wonder about the validity of the belief system your parents, mentors or faith communities have passed down to you.
Maybe you’re introduced to a new person, whether that’s a friend, professor, author, podcaster, speaker, or influencer, who has an idea or experience different from anything you’ve seen. Maybe you just realize everything you believe has been handed to you by someone else and you’re ready to determine for yourself how to move forward.
This is all a form of deconstruction. I bet you’ve already lived through several versions of it. Do you have the same views as you did when you first met Jesus? Was there a season you dedicated to studying and seeking wisdom in areas you started having questions about? Has the Holy Spirit changed your mind? If you’re like me, He has in a lot of ways.
While I don’t disagree with pushing back against oppressive systems, I don’t believe throwing out our faith is the answer. It begs the question, if we are pushing back against the authority and the power that led us to believe what we’ve historically believed, then aren’t we just exchanging that for another authority telling us not to believe it?
John Mark Comer puts it this way:
“The question becomes, all right, if we’re just making up right and wrong based on mob mentality, what Instagram is saying and what we want, then why social justice? Why is slavery wrong? Why civil rights? Why all of this stuff? There’s no metaphysical grounding for it. And so, this is where I think that Christianity will still have an important role to play in whatever comes next culturally in the West, because was it Voltaire who said, ‘If there wasn’t a God, we’d have to invent one.'”
Add a pandemic and you’ve got isolation, anxiety and doubt. If there ever was a time for the enemy to suggest you throw everything out, it’s now. Just like in Genesis 3, the enemy is asking you, “Did God really say?”–the oldest trick in the book. You’re looking around at the world around you and asking yourself, “Can God be trusted?” If we can count on something, we can count on the enemy to lie to us.
John Mark is suggesting we ask the bigger questions–we get down to the “why.” And faith in God is sufficient to supply these answers. There is still a place for Him in your questioning. If I believe anything, I believe God can handle your questions, your doubt, your hurt. The worst thing we can do is leave God out of our deconstruction process. And I believe this about God, He will meet you every time you sincerely seek Him (Jeremiah 29:13, Proverbs 8:17, Luke 11:9-10).
But don’t do it alone. The enemy shouts the loudest in our loneliness. Tell a trusted friend you are doubting, tell your small group, your pastor, a mentor, your family, a therapist–someone. You aren’t looking for people to affirm you, but to speak truth in love. There’s a difference. It would be easy to find people to praise you for deconstructing, but we need people in our lives who love us, love Truth and aren’t afraid to be honest.
So when you are questioning, I’m suggesting a few things:
1. Ask yourself: Is this a lie from the enemy?
2. Bring your specific doubts to God.
3. Deconstruct in true community.
Deconstruction doesn’t have to be scary, but I do think it’s a serious and holy work. I’m not afraid of it for several reasons I’ve found after knowing Jesus intimately for a long time, but one sticks out to me right now:
“Many of his disciples said, ‘This is very hard to understand. How can anyone accept it?’
Jesus was aware that his disciples were complaining, so he said to them, ‘Does this offend you? Then what will you think if you see the Son of Man ascend to heaven again?The Spirit alone gives eternal life. Human effort accomplishes nothing. And the very words I have spoken to you are spirit and life. But some of you do not believe me.’ (For Jesus knew from the beginning which ones didn’t believe, and he knew who would betray him.) Then he said, ‘That is why I said that people can’t come to me unless the Father gives them to me.’
At this point many of his disciples turned away and deserted him. Then Jesus turned to the Twelve and asked, ‘Are you also going to leave?’
Simon Peter replied, ‘Lord, to whom would we go? You have the words that give eternal life. We believe, and we know you are the Holy One of God.'”
(John 6:60-69 NLT)
There is only one answer that brings life: Jesus.
Where else can we go?
We can try to explore other paths, turn and walk away, and deconstruct every ounce of our faith, but all other roads only lead to death. I know it doesn’t make sense, and we don’t have all the answers. But I wouldn’t believe in a God that I could outsmart anyway.
Faith is just that, “being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.” It takes faith to reconstruct. But if we stay with God, I believe there is life on the other side. Where else can I go?