| Topic: |
Religions > Bible |
| User: |
"Carl" |
| Date: |
28 Jul 2007 11:01:08 AM |
| Object: |
When The Fire Goes Out |
Does it feel like the passion is missing in your life? David Jeremiah offers
a lesson on how to rekindle a Godly passion. I hope it helps you.
May God bless,
Carl
my website -- http://www.nettally.com/saints/
my blog -- http://www.anniemayhem.com/cgi-bin/wordpress/
---
When The Fire Goes Out
by David Jeremiah
Killer dana was the most notorious wave in California. When it was really
ripping and roaring, the best surfers in the world gave it plenty of
distance. Legendary surfers with names like George "Peanuts" Larson and Jim
"Burrhead" Drever knew that given the traditional techniques of their sport,
that wave was more than they could handle.
Then came a teenager to prove them wrong.
In 1953, a boy named Phil Edwards paddled out toward Killer Dana beside the
best surfers in the business, and people gasped. Was this kid crazy? He
wouldn't last three minutes against the toughest wave the West Coast had to
offer.
But Edwards came right at Killer Dana behind Burrhead Drever and shocked the
rest of his party of surfers by cutting back into the foam. The rest of the
surfers were riding their boards back to the shore-after all, that's how it
was usually done. But Edwards challenged the wave with a style and artistry
that gave birth to a whole new sport: performance surfing. He quickly became
the great superstar of the sport, just at the time when surfing came into
its own in the popular imagination through movies, Beach Boys songs, and
California culture.
Edwards was unimpressed with the crowds. "There are uncounted millions of
people who now go through life without any sort of real, vibrant kick," he
said. He gave these people a name: "the legions of the unjazzed."
He was talking about people who live their entire life without taking risks.
"There is a need in all of us for controlled danger," said the surfboard
philosopher. Edwards believed that life is lived out where the foam is
breaking, out where it's easy to take a tumble and get a mouthful of salt
water. In his lingo, to face that kind of excitement is to "be jazzed." Even
the best practitioners of his sport, in his view, were taking it easy,
avoiding the risks.?1?
The passionate life is about playing to our potential-giving it the best
shot we have, even when the odds are against us, even when we're weary, even
when nobody else advises it. Passion pushes us forward as it did Phil
Edwards. Athletes call this kind of effort "leaving it all on the field."
But as we all know, sometimes a team doesn't play to its potential.
Sometimes an army doesn't give its best fight. Sometimes we are all numbered
among the legions of the unjazzed.
I'm talking about the sinister cancer of passivity, which slowly but
inexorably squeezes the passion out of our life. I'm talking about how the
adventure, excitement, and fulfillment we all crave is smothered by the wet
blanket of apathy, indifference, and stoicism. The passionate life is one of
activity, enthusiasm, and energy. Passivity shorts out all the circuits and
leaves us bored and in a rut. Ferdinand Foch, marshal of France at the turn
of the twentieth century, said, "The most powerful weapon on earth is the
human soul on fire." Passivity snuffs out that vital inner blaze.
Passivity doesn't only attack our spiritual life. It is just as easy to slip
into a passive lifestyle in our relationships with family and friends, in
our work, in our activities and ministries at church, and in our
extracurricular activities. In fact, if these other areas of our life are
marked by apathy, boredom, and a Who cares? attitude, it's a sure bet that
the vitality of our relationship to Christ has dwindled to a simmer.
Unleashing the power of a passionate life begins by defeating the passivity
in our heart toward God.
In the book of Revelation, Jesus spoke pointedly to two groups of Christians
whose once-fiery passion for God and for life in general had cooled to a
mundane and ineffective existence. I believe the churches of Ephesus and
Laodicea demonstrate two stages many of today's churches and individual
Christians go through in the decline from passion to passivity. Examining
the experiences of these New Testament churches and listening closely to
Christ's message to each of them can help us keep the fires of passion
burning brightly in our own heart.
A Dying Flame
In the first century, Ephesus was the most prominent city in the Roman
province of Asia. The city held one of the Seven Wonders of the World: the
Temple of Artemis, a magnificent structure built in honor of the Roman
goddess of fertility. But by the end of the first century when the book of
Revelation was written, Ephesus was in decline. It was a city living on its
laurels, trying to maintain the glory of its past. The harbor was filling
with silt, causing commerce to decline. And new religions, Christianity
among them, were competing for the attention of its citizens. Ephesus was a
city whose passion had flickered and died.
The church followed the city's lead. The flaming fellowship was now reduced
to dying embers. Where does the passion go when it all leaks out?
We can't say that the church at Ephesus lacked dedication. Jesus opened His
message to them with these words: "I know your works, your labor"
(Revelation 2:2). They were active and busy, and Jesus commended them for
it. The word labor implies working to the point of exhaustion. There were
apparently many in the church who were so busy in the service of the church
that they were worn out. They were dedicated to building the church in
Ephesus and making an impact on the city.
Nor was there a problem with a lack of determination. Jesus also commended
them for their patience in service (v. 2) and in suffering (v. 3). Acts 19
tells about the persecution that came upon the believers in Ephesus from
those who rose up against them. The silversmiths union, which profited from
selling silver statues of the goddess Diana, was not happy with the
anti-idolatry message of the Christians. The clash escalated into a riot.
But the Christians there persevered in their determination to make a
difference.
This kind of determination in suffering reminds me of a wonderful statement
by the great nineteenth-century London preacher, Charles Spurgeon:
Pray God to send a few more men with what the Americans call "grit" in them;
men, who when they know a thing to be right, will not turn away, or turn
aside, or stop; men who will persevere all the more because there are
difficulties to meet or foes to encounter; who stand all the more true to
their Master because they are opposed; who, the more they are thrust into
the fire, the hotter they become, who just like the bow, the further the
string is drawn, the more powerfully it sends forth arrows, and so the more
they are trodden upon, the more mighty they become in the cause of truth
against error.?2?
Determination to hang in there seems to have been present in the Ephesian
church.
We also know that the problem in the church at Ephesus wasn't a lack of
discipline or discernment. In fact, the twenty-first-century church would do
well to imitate the church discipline practiced by the Ephesian believers.
They did not allow evil to spring up in their midst and bear fruit, and
Jesus commended them for their discipline. They "tested those who say they
are apostles and are not, and have found them liars" (v. 3). It was not
uncommon for apostle wanna-bes to circulate through first-century churches,
looking for hospitality and a place to exercise their self-appointed
authority. This church grilled the visitors on their theology and practice
and sent them packing if they didn't measure up.
So what was the problem at Ephesus? Today, if we described a church as
dedicated, determined, discerning, and disciplined, we would be talking
about a church of some notoriety. And that's the root of the problem.
Despite all the Ephesian Christians had going for them, Jesus said,
"Nevertheless I have this against you, that you have left your first love"
(v. 4). In less than a century, the church at Ephesus had moved from faith
to formalism. In all their busyness they had lost their passion for Jesus.
They were so involved in keeping up the religious practices of the church
that they had become passive in their devotion to the Head of the church.
I see the same thing happening today. There are nearly four hundred thousand
churches dotting the landscape of America, but what effect are we having? We
are making an impact to some degree; I would hate to imagine what America
would look and act like if the church were not here. But are we having the
level of impact we could? Are we turning our society upside down the way
Jesus and the apostles did theirs? I don't think so. And in my view, it's
because we are more in love with the church than with the Lord of the
church. We have moved from faith to formalism. We have lost our first love.
Losing our first love is another way of saying we have lost our passion. And
the way the church at large-or any local church like yours or mine-loses its
passion is by individual Christians becoming passive about devotion to
Christ. Life wide open is not about doing great things for God apart from
knowing and loving God intimately. You can serve tirelessly on every
committee in the church and faithfully attend every function of the
church-even workdays! But without the fire of passion for Jesus burning
within you, you won't accomplish much more than the space shuttle under
butane power. We must say with St. John of the Cross:
Forever at this door
I gave my heart and soul.
My fortune too.
I've no flock anymore,
No other work in view.
My occupation: love.
It's all I do.
Formalism Is Failure
Let me state the problem with the church in Laodicea up-front: When God
finds apostasy in the church, He is unhappy. But when God finds passivity in
the church, He is angry. Passivity is unacceptable.
Laodicea was perhaps the wealthiest city in the Roman province of Asia Minor
in the first century. The money had gone to their head and dampened their
heart. The church had once been soulful, passionate, and wide open. Paul
mentioned the Laodicean believers several times in his letter to the church
at Colossae, encouraging the Colossians to share his letter with the church
at Laodicea (see Colossians 4:12-16).
Despite Laodicea's material prosperity, the city lacked one important thing:
an adequate water supply. They had to run a pipeline from nearby Hierapolis
to obtain hot water from the mineral hot springs, and they piped in cold
water from the springs in neighboring Colossae. But since the pipelines were
built above ground and not insulated, the water the Laodiceans received was
neither fully hot nor fully cold, but lukewarm.
Hot mineral water is good for bathing and gargling. Cool spring water is
good for quenching a blazing thirst. But lukewarm water is neither
refreshing nor therapeutic. The lukewarm water of Laodicea became a picture
of the passive faith of the church there. Jesus said, "You're not cold, you're
not hot-far better to be either cold or hot! You're stale. You're stagnant.
You make me want to vomit" (Revelation 3:16 msg).
Jesus had three problems with the church at Laodicea, all of which grew out
of its lack of passion for Christ.
1. The Laodicean church had compromised its faith (see Revelation 3:15-16).
The Christian life is supposed to be hot, passionate, and fervent-not tepid.
Apollos taught the Scriptures in Ephesus with great energy and excitement
(see Acts 18:25). The word used in that verse is fervent, defined as
"showing passionate enthusiasm" or "glowingly hot." Paul urged us to be
"fervent in spirit, serving the Lord" (Romans 12:11). James called us to
"effective, fervent prayer" (James 5:16). And Peter stated that we are to
have "fervent love for one another" (1 Peter 4:8). Does your faith have
passionate enthusiasm? Is it glowingly hot?
2. The Laodicean church was conceited. This church boasted, "I am rich, have
become wealthy, and have need of nothing" (Revelation 3:17). Jesus
disagreed, stating that the church was oblivious to being "wretched,
miserable, poor, blind, and naked" (v. 17). Conceit can't see the faults in
its own character, but Jesus can see them. Laodicea was wealthy, but the
church was spiritually destitute. The city boasted of its textile business,
but the church was spiritually naked. And though Laodicea was famous for its
eye medicine, the church was blind.
3. The Laodicean church was Christless (see Revelation 3:20). They were so
focused on themselves and their so-called success that they didn't notice
who was missing from the assembly: Jesus. To spiritually lukewarm believers,
it doesn't matter if Jesus is present or not. They become so caught up with
themselves and busy with their agenda that they carry on without Him. And
when Jesus does come near, they won't let Him warm their tepid hearts.
Passion for God and his kingdom must move from something we occasionally
think about to something we embrace heart and soul. Sue Monk Kidd writes: "I'm
discovering that a spiritual journey is a lot like a poem. You don't merely
recite a poem or analyze it intellectually. You dance it, sing it, cry it,
feel it on your skin and in your bones. You move with it and feel its
caress. It falls on you like a teardrop or wraps around you like a smile. It
lives in the heart and the body as well as the spirit and the head."?3?
Churches fall into spiritual passivity the same way they lose their passion:
one careless believer at a time. If the church today-yours and mine in
particular-is going to be a passionate influence on our needy world, it will
only happen as individual Christians like you and me throw off the conceit
of this age and pursue wholeheartedly an intimate, passionate relationship
with Jesus.
From Passivity to Passion
While in London to attend a conference, my wife, Donna, and I visited a
number of the famous churches in the city. One of the most famous is St.
Paul's Cathedral, designed by renowned British architect Sir Christopher
Wren. St. Paul's is also the home of a large painting by artist Holman Hunt
that is known the world over.
This marvelous painting features the front of a neglected cottage. Thistles
have grown up the front wall and grass covers the entry walk. Vines, weeds,
and rusty hinges in the painting convey a sense that nobody cares about the
cottage or its residents. The scene represents a neglected life, a heart
where passion has long since cooled.
But standing at the door of this cottage is the kind King, Jesus Christ,
holding a lantern from which the painting derives its title, "The Light of
the World." The lantern light casts a warm glow over the front of the
run-down home. And with His upraised right hand, Christ is knocking on the
door.
It is a painting of stark contrasts. King Jesus, resplendent in royal robes,
bathed in the light of His own glory, seeks admittance to this humble home.
The most intriguing aspect of the painting is the fact that there is no
latch on Jesus's side of the door. An early viewer of the painting
approached the artist to point out the "mistake" of forgetting to put a
latch on the door. Holman's reply reflects the key to Christ's gaining
entrance to our lives: "No, it is not a mistake. The handle is on the
inside. Only we can open the door and allow Christ to come in."
How often I have seen Christians whose lives are represented by the
neglected cottage in Holman Hunt's famous painting. Where the fire of
passion once filled the windows with the light of vibrant life, now only the
dimness of passivity is evident. Once the pathway was packed firm and the
grounds weeded and trimmed for the frequent, welcomed visitor, but now the
threshold is rarely crossed. And the door that was always ajar in
anticipation of the Master's fellowship is now shut and locked from the
inside against a friend who is now regarded as a stranger.
Jesus said, "Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice
and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me"
(Revelation 3:20). The key to unlocking the door to passion in your life,
not just for spiritual things but for every facet of life, is throwing open
the door of your life to Jesus and inviting Him to enter. It is impossible
to be passive in the presence of Passion Personified!
If the vines of passivity are creeping up the walls of your life, if the
path to your door is nearly impassable, if Jesus's knock at your heart's
door has gone unanswered in recent days, I beg you to throw off your
passivity. Open yourself once again so that passion rules. Allow the Light
of the world to so fill your life that His warmth and brilliance flows out
to others in darkness. A. W. Tozer said, "Keep your feet on the ground, but
let your heart soar as high as it will. Refuse to be average or to surrender
to the chill of your spiritual environment."
If you have surrendered to passivity by allowing your passion for God and
life to become lukewarm, you must heed the call Jesus issued to both the
Ephesian and Laodicean churches: "Repent!" (Revelation 2:5; 3:19).
"Isn't that something for non-Christians to do?" you may ask. Yes, and if
you are still investigating the Christian life, you no doubt sense Christ
gently knocking at the door of your life. He wants you to change your mind
about Him by surrendering to His lordship. But repentance is also something
for Christians to do when the flame of passion inside has dwindled to a
flicker or gone out.
Repent. Change your mind. Don't lock passion or the Passion Giver out of
your life any longer. That door handle is on your side, and no one can fling
the door wide open but you-just as no one can give you a life wide open but
Jesus. He stands at the door and knocks . . . and knocks . . . and knocks.
Footnotes:
1 http://www.surfline.com for biographical info; sermon by Bruce Theilemann,
"Legions of the Unjazzed," which can be found at
http://www.preachingtoday.com.
2 Source unknown.
3 Sue Monk Kidd, When the Heart Waits (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1990),
71.
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| User: "RedFox" |
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| Title: Re: When The Fire Goes Out |
28 Jul 2007 09:16:30 PM |
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In article <f8fp84$2sa$1@news.utelfla.com>, "Carl" <saints@nettally.com> wrote:
Does it feel like the passion is missing in your life? David Jeremiah offers
a lesson on how to rekindle a Godly passion. I hope it helps you.
Then said another with a long-drawn Sigh,
"My Clay with long oblivion is gone dry:
"But, fill me with the old familiar Juice,
"Methinks I might recover by-and-bye!"
Ah, my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears
TO-DAY of past Regrets and future Fears---
To-morrow?---Why, To-morrow I may be
Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n Thousand Years.
Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,
Before we too into the Dust descend;
Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie,
Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and---sans End!
Alike for those who for TO-DAY prepare,
And those that after a TO-MORROW stare,
A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries
"Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There!"
Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd
Of the Two Worlds so learnedly, are thrust
Like foolish Prophets forth; their Words to Scorn
Are scatter'd, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust.
Oh, come with old Khayyam, and leave the Wise
To talk; one thing is certain, that Life flies;
One thing is certain, and the Rest is Lies;
The Flower that once has blown for ever dies.
Myself when young did eagerly frequent
Doctor and Saint, and heard great Argument
About it and about: but evermore
Came out by the same Door as in I went.
But leave the Wise to wrangle, and with me
The Quarrel of the Universe let be:
And, in some corner of the Hubbub coucht,
Make Game of that which makes as much of Thee.
For in and out, above, about, below,
'Tis nothing but a Magic Shadow-show,
Play'd in a Box whose Candle is the Sun,
Round which we Phantom Figures come and go.
And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press,
End in the Nothing all Things end in ---Yes---
Then fancy while Thou art, Thou art but what
Thou shalt be---Nothing---Thou shalt not be less.
While the Rose blows along the River Brink,
With old Khayyam the Ruby Vintage drink:
And when the Angel with his darker Draught
Draws up to Thee---take that, and do not shrink.
And this I know: whether the one True Light,
Kindle to Love, or Wrathconsume me quite,
One Glimpse of It within the Tavern caught
Better than in the Temple lost outright.
Oh, Thou, who didst with Pitfall and with Gin
Beset the Road I was to wander in,
Thou wilt not with Predestination round
Enmesh me, and impute my Fall to Sin?
Then said another with a long-drawn Sigh,
"My Clay with long oblivion is gone dry:
"But, fill me with the old familiar Juice,
"Methinks I might recover by-and-bye!"
OMAR KHAYYAM
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