Opposing a Spirit of Fear

Some years ago, a few well-known prophets from America’s east coast prophesied hell coming to the west coast, and to my Northwest region in particular.

They didn’t call it hell. They called it “The Big One.”  They called it earthquakes and volcanoes and a tsunami, and millions of people screaming and dying. They went so far as to say, “Move away from the west coast, if you can!”

That pissed me off. I hate it when God’s people use God’s name to prophesy the devil’s agenda for my region! That is not okay with me.

Even the secular news caught on, and there were “news” articles on TV most nights: “It happened to Japan! It can happen here!” with interviews of geologists and politicians and emergency response people and preppers and fear-mongers. It was ugly.

The prophets then added, “We asked God if we can stop this, and he said we can’t.” That one caught my attention.

I asked Father about it. “Of course they can’t stop it. They’re from the east coast.” That was all I needed.

We gathered a handful of prophets together in one of our homes and came before God, to see what He said about it.

It was a fun evening, but too long to detail. To summarize, there were two primary points we needed to pray into:

1) We (on the west coast) live on the Ring of Fire: there are going to be earthquakes and such; it’s how God built the planet: stuff moves. We can try to stop the movement of continents, or we can just change the effect of their movements. So we decreed lots of tiny earthquakes instead of the killer quake that Japan got that year. (And sure enough, we got a lot of small quakes over the next couple of months.) This was the little attack, the flash that was to capture everybody’s attention while the enemy went after his real goal.

2) The greater attack was the spirit of fear that was riding on the reports, the prognostications, the conversations about “The Big One.” The enemy wanted to use these reports, and use any significant quakes, to embed a demonic stronghold of fear into the people of the west coast, and the people of America.

We also opposed that attack, and the public fear-mongering pretty well stopped. The enemy has not given up his goal of embedding a demonic stronghold of fear in the people of the west coast, but he’s going at it more subtly now. (This is one example of the current attack: http://on.fb.me/1geQU6L.)

The goal of embedding a spirit of fear into the people of the USA appears to be a pretty key issue for the enemy. It’s everywhere. Look at the conversations around Facebook that are talking about GMO foods, and you’ll hear fear in a lot of those voices. You’ll hear it in the conversations about the dismantling of the US constitution, the Second Ammendment conversations, the vaccine controversy, the Obamacare conversations.

And pretty much every conversation that talks about “Jesus is coming soon” or “the antichrist” or “the tribulation” or “the rapture” is tainted with a spirit of fear.

If I may be so bold, I’d like to suggest that we have not actually been given a spirit of fear. The Spirit we’ve been given is about power and love and it’s about a sound mind.

By contrast, the spirit of fear that’s coming against us is merely a temptation: Will the people give in to fear, or will they resist? Will they respond in fear or in power? In fear or in love? In fear or in a sound mind?

It’s NOT the enemy’s choice whether the spirit of fear infests your house, your community: it’s YOUR choice.

What say you?

How Do You Give Up The Thing You Love?

Oh, baby! I could spend a few years here.

I was wandering through a marina some years ago, looking at the sailboats, imagining the wind in the hair, the splash of seafoam, the smell of the sea.

I’d grown up with a small sailboat. I’d learned early on to love the rock of the waves, the sound of the sea, learning to rely on the sea for my home, my transportation, my grocery store, my schooling, my solitude.

I love the sea. I love who I am on the sea, and who Father is with me when we’re on the sea together.

I was thinking, imagining, planning: how can I change my lifestyle so that my sweetheart and I could adopt a lifestyle on the water. I knew she wouldn’t really take much persuading.

Let's see... It would need to be sailboat, because the wind is cheaper than gas, and I expect to be using a lot of one or the other. It would need to be at least 35’ sailboat, as that seemed the smallest size to house two people as a live-aboard, and we couldn’t afford a boat – a real boat – and a house, too. We’d need to change our careers, but that could be done. I’d need to …

Father interrupted me, tenderly, almost hesitantly. It seemed that he enjoyed how much I was loving his creation, but perhaps there was yet a reason to steer me in another direction.

“Son, would you consider an offer from me?” Oh my. God is deferring to my choice? God has something to say about this plan? This ought to be good! “Sure, Father! What are you thinking?”

“Son, would you consider a trade? If you’ll sacrifice a sailboat – a sailing lifestyle – in this life time, then would you like it if I took you on a sailing trip in the next one? We’ll sail around the rings of Saturn first, and then we’ll explore more interesting places. Would you be willing to make that trade?” Though I heard the words only in my mind, they sounded as if he – the God of the Universe – had his hat in his hand as he came to me with this question: it was clear that this was important to him.

He had me. On several levels, he had me. Sure, it would be completely awesome to go sailing around the rings of Saturn with God; that was an easy choice! The Creator as my own personal tour guide! How cool is that! That would be a no-brainer.

But he had me before he ever mentioned the rings of Saturn. It was clear – he wouldn’t have asked it otherwise – that he had other plans for my life that sailing would interfere with. I could imagine what those things might be, but I chose not to. He wasn’t offering other plans to me. He was revealing his heart to me.

The biggest thing that made me shout “Yes! Of course, yes!” was that my Daddy who loves me foolishly, extravagantly, irrevocably, my lover had just bared a big piece of his infinite heart to me. And for some reason, he wanted me to choose differently than I was beginning to choose; it would make him sad if I continued this path. How can you ever do something that would sadden the one who loves you like that? I couldn’t imagine saying no to a love like that!

This has been a powerful lesson in the decades since that interaction. We’ve come back to this conversation over and over again as he teaches me his ways. What a lesson in how to love well! What a lesson in how he values my free will! What a lesson about how that which is good can get in the way of that which is best.

But most of all, what a lesson in how much, how tenderly, he loves me.

Do I still love sailing? Absolutely.

Do I regret making that decision, walking away from something I loved, with nothing in return except his quiet smile? Not for a freaking second!

The Symphony

I enjoy classical music. More than any other kind of music, the composers of great classical music wove melodies and harmonies together, often mixing layer upon layer of different music, weaving it together into a glorious piece. The fact that some, like Beethoven, couldn’t hear what they were composing overwhelms me.

You couldn’t ever play a symphony on a single instrument. Which melody would you play? They’re all woven together, each instrument taking our turn at the forefront, taking a turn in the background. When they’re all playing the symphony together, the result is glorious!

“Symphony” is an interesting word. It’s actually a Greek word that’s so unique that we don’t translate it, we just use English letters to pronounce it with.

The Greek word συμφωνέω (“symphōneō “) means “to agree together,” or “to agree with one in making a bargain, to make an agreement, to bargain.” Our working together – not all doing the same thing, but working, each in our own way, toward the same end – is a symphony.  

Our word συμφωνέω is the heart of Jesus’ declaration in Matthew 18:19: “Again I say to you that if two of you agree on earth concerning anything that they ask, it will be done for them by My Father in heaven.” This is a symphony.

I suppose that there are a few things that stand out to me in this:

§         Our “agreeing together” makes beautiful music in heaven. I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that it makes Jesus really happy.

§         This isn’t about numbers. He doesn’t say anything about “If you gather all the Christians in the city….” The symphony begins with “two of you.” I think we miss this one sometimes.

§         Our “agreeing together” isn’t about us doing stuff in unison. If every instrument played the same line, the only variation would be when someone missed the note, and it would sound like a junior high school band concert. There is nothing beautiful in the “symphony” produced that way, except that little Johnny is actually playing something; I sure wish he’d practiced his part.

I think we’ve missed this one sometimes as well. I’ve been browbeaten in the name of “unity” to do the thing that the browbeater is doing, in the way the browbeater is doing it, rather than playing my own part on my own instrument. I’m not sure that browbeating someone into submission is the best method of achieving beautiful music. I grieve that we’ve done that.

§         Our “agreeing together” is powerful. That symphony moves Father’s hand to do “any thing” (“each, every, any, all, the whole, everyone, all things, everything”) that we agree about. This is some of the beauty of the symphony, I think: actually seeing “on earth as it is in Heaven” happening, and us getting to take part in it.

The fact that we don’t see as much of Father’s hand being moved by unit may be a good clue: maybe the way we’ve been striving for unit isn’t the most effective way.

I suspect that we’ll accomplish the symphony of unity much better if we’re all playing the music that our great Conductor places before us: following the Conductor will be more symphonic than following another musician, no matter how good they are. The trombonist will never make beautiful music if he’s trying to play the timpani’s part. Or the piccolo’s part. Or the violin’s part.

More to the point, the trombonist will never be judged for how well he played the second violin’s part. His only reward will come from how well the trombone part came out when it was called upon.

My encouragement is for us to look to the Holy Spirit for the part you’re to play in this whole symphony, not to human leaders. We must fellowship together, yes. We can learn from each other, of course. We do well to “encourage one another and build up one another, just as you also are doing.”

Don’t follow the leader of the brass section just because he’s loud. Learn to play your own instrument, your own calling, your own gifting. And having begun, follow the Holy Spirit who’s conducting this symphony.