Love God and do whatever

The Christian life is really not that complicated. If we can get the love part right, everything else will fall into place. St. Augustine said, “Love God and do whatever.”
Unfortunately, our striving little souls even try to make a dead work out of loving God. Have you ever heard a grumpy old preacher tell you that “Love is not a feeling,” and to do good things even when you don’t feel like it? Sounds like stoicism to me.
I have a very big problem with the “love is not a feeling” emphasis found in many guilt-driven religious streams. Yes, it is true that we move on faith, rather than feeling. But such language is often used to quench emotive demonstrations of devotion. Whoever vilified feelings and equated them with the lusts of the flesh was grossly mistaken. Ironically, it was probably Augustine’s fault that we have such an aberrant understanding of “feelings” in the church today. I agree with the rock band Boston that love is “more than a feeling,” but when we try to surgically separate one’s feeling and emotions from love, in order to define it only as an esoteric, selfless serving verb, we’ve missed the point. The love of God should electrify us, push us to hunger and stir a fiery passion in our bones that cannot be quenched. Consistent lack of emotion in our spiritual walk can often be defined in one simple word: complacency.
God created our feelings, and feelings themselves are not evil. The sinful nature does seek to pervert and manipulate the feelings – exalting them to a place where they do not belong. But feelings themselves are amoral. They are neither good, nor evil. It is what we do with those feelings, where they are directed and whether we choose to dwell in certain ones, which can result in a good or evil action. Feelings are also a beautiful, built-in thermostat, by which we gauge the spiritual climate and discern the atmosphere around us. Many Christians were considered flaky by the church in years past, because they relied more on their feelings than on common sense and man-made rules – but many of these are now being recognized for possessing a true gift of discernment. We should not be ruled by our feelings, but neither should we ignore them. The apostle Paul showed us that he did not give into weak feelings:

"Who is weak, and I do not feel weak? Who is led into sin, and I do not inwardly burn?" (2 Cor. 11:29)

There are obviously times where we must resist feelings of temptation, but it is our yearning for God over sin that causes us to prevail. To reject all “feeling” in our Christian walk will only lead us dwell in bad ones. We live first by the truth, but emotional satisfaction and holy pleasure must surely follow if we expect to call our walk balanced. Even God has strong affections. It is for lack of feeling and senses that he mocks our lifeless idols.

"Not to us, O Lord, not to us but to your name be the glory, because of your love and faithfulness. Why do the nations say, “Where is their God?” Our God is in heaven; he does whatever pleases him. But their idols are silver and gold, made by the hands of men. They have mouths, but cannot speak, eyes, but they cannot see; they have ears, but cannot hear, noses, but they cannot smell; they have hands, but cannot feel, feet, but they cannot walk; nor can they utter a sound with their throats. Those who make them will be like them, and so will all who trust in them." (Psalm 115:1-8)

Unfortunately, we often idolize a false perception of God – an emotionless, judgmental and aloof being in the sky who leaves us to sort out our own problems. This deistic image is no more real than a statue of wood or silver. But God has called us to be like Him. We are created in His image with sensory perception that enables us to fully taste and see that He is good.
Anyone who looks full into the face and presence of God cannot help but be overcome in his emotions. In his advocacy for “Christian hedonism,” a complete and utter joy in the life of the believer, John Piper writes:
“Don’t let the childlike awe and wonder be choked out by unbiblical views of virtue. Don’t let the scenery and poetry and music of your relationship with God shrivel up and die. You have the capacities for joy which you can scarcely imagine.” Anyone who has truly been filled with the Holy Spirit knows that this joy has nothing to do with numb, theological theory. Furthermore, Piper writes, “I have argued so far that disinterested benevolence toward God is evil. If you come to God dutifully offering him the reward of your fellowship instead of thirsting after the reward of His fellowship, then you exalt yourself above God as His benefactor and belittle Him as a needy beneficiary – and that is evil.”
Our lives are not just a process of serving God in a non-affectionate manner. Our lives are rooted in enjoying God, and delighting ourselves in Him. This is why prayer is our first function, because it is the immediate fruit of anyone who truly wants to be with God.
The problem is not that our feelings are invalid in the Christian walk. The problem is, they are too limited to fully experience God. The love of God is so huge and intense, that when He begins to pour over us, it is like plugging a million-volt charge through a five-volt fuse. We just can’t handle the glory. Our lower senses are so shallow and incapable of handling such joy and beauty, that they must often be crushed and reconfigured to handle a greater capacity of love and power. God is so infinitely beautiful that His gladness actually terrorizes us. The fear of the Lord is not based in his anger – the fear of the Lord is based in the awesomeness of his delight, which is beyond our capacity to handle as mere mortals. Our hearts must be expanded and softened to take it in.
God has destined us to be containers of His presence, and so He is transforming us from glory and glory to carry a richer, thicker concentration of Himself here on earth. In fact, I believe Jesus modeled just about as much of God’s presence as a mere mortal can carry and manifest in his physical being when He transfigured on Mt. Tabor. Like Moses, I believe we can literally shine like light bulbs with the manifest presence of God, this side of heaven, just as Jesus’ face shone like the sun. After all, we will do even greater things than these, because Jesus went to the Father (John 14:12).
For this reason, we should not be shaken when our feelings don’t seem to match up with our faith. Sometimes, we simply have to let them be purged – stripped and rebuilt – so that we can walk in a deeper, higher level of feeling that is far greater than we could hope or imagine. We do not reject the feelings of the heart, but neither do we lean on them as the sole indicator of God’s will and purpose. As we learn to love God more, let us love Him with our entire being: with all our heart and with all our soul and with all our mind and with all our strength (Mark 12:30).

Immersing into electric solitude

“Soaking prayer” has been a buzzword in Christian renewal over the past decade. However, it is more than the latest religious trend. Throughout the ages, those who walked closest to God were those who basked in his electric radiance. Those who best knew him, were those who allowed their thoughts and interior turbulence to be silenced, and drank deeply from the living streams of life.
“Drink, yes, drink deeply, O beloved ones!” (Song of Solomon 5:1).
It is clear that we are tasked to drink constantly from the river of life, and all too often, we take a sip ­– drink of his sweetness for a season – then return to our patterns of strife. We know that walking in the Spirit must become a lifestyle. But without waiting and lingering in his midst, we forfeit intense kingdom revelation and power. Most of all, we miss God himself and his destiny for our lives.
If we literally miss a day without pulling aside to drink of his new wine – to miss out on his “rivers of pleasure,” his never ending delight – I count the day a waste. I work much better under the inebriating peace of his nearness, and the best work is often done when I’m too sloshed to get off the floor.
Americans want results – productivity. God just wants to get us plastered in his love.
Soaking prayer, or contemplation, is simply the practice of the presence of God. It is a place of stillness and meditation, wherein we enter the “secret place of the Most High,” merely for the sake of being near to him. It is a response and a culmination of intimacy, wherein we cease to perform for God, and instead choose simply to be with him. It is a posture of rest and repose, wherein we literally baste in his power and closeness as he flows over us and through us. We encounter the supernatural.
“I still believe that all spiritual life consists of practicing God’s presence, and that anyone who practices it correctly will soon attain spiritual fulfillment. To accomplish this, it is necessary for the heart to be emptied of everything that would offend God. He wants to possess your heart completely,” writes Brother Lawrence, a renowned 17th century monk, known widely for walking in a supernatural deluge of the Holy Spirit, marked with joy, simplicity and humility. Lawrence cultivated such a manifest presence in his everyday life, that people would travel from miles around just to watch him wash dishes.
I am convinced that it is all a matter of our desire – we can each have as much of God’s manifest presence in our lives as our hearts truly want. We have to get hungry. No measure of prayer, reading or spiritual discipline can replace the fire of passionate hunger which God desires from us. And how can we ever become hungry for him, unless we stop to taste and see that he is good? If we truly want more of God’s presence in our lives, we will get it.
“The Lord says: ‘These people come near to me with their mouth and honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. Their worship of me is made up only of rules taught by men,’” (Is. 29:13). And yet, when the flame of divine love does begin to kindle in our souls, we know that “the eyes of the Lord range throughout the earth to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him,” (2 Chron. 16:9).
There is no form. No methodology to the practice of his presence. It relies heavily on silence – on listening – but the only DNA which separates it from other systems, is that it is not a system … it is a relationship.
“This is what the sovereign Lord, the Holy One of Israel, says: ‘In returning and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength. …’” (Is. 30:15).
In the place of his nearness, in hearing his still small voice, we are supercharged. We can do super-human feats and receive heavenly visitations. Taking the time to experience God kindles the fire of heaven until it is raging within us. It is my belief that, in today’s postmodern era, the discontinuity of life, the discontentment with religious formulas and the evident limits of rationalist thinking are simply signposts to a cultural cry for true spiritual intimacy.
Who still believes in the supernatural? More tend to worship a dead god that lives in a building. But there is a generation of new mystics on the rise, who will unlock the mysteries of God that have been sealed and hidden throughout the ages. This is because they do more than believe he is alive – they believe he is near, and they walk with him like Enoch. They will walk in unprecedented revelatory power that will even put the first century apostles to shame. In fact, it’s already beginning. Many are young people – the first fruits of the army foretold by the prophet Joel – who do not rest on the laurels of a seminary degree, but simply understand their access to the war room of heaven itself. There is a rapid maturation process when one dwells with God.
We are also on the brink of seeing a full restoration of the contemplative monastic tradition of divine listening in the vein of St. John of the Cross, Teresa and others, which has been largely lost in the modern era. And it will be amplified in these latter day rains of God’s glory.
My inner man must first learn to “be still and know that he is God” (Ps. 46:10), before I can hear the thunder in the distance. My pride has so geared me to trust in human strength and my own stubborn efforts to succeed – even to succeed in spiritual matters – that I am unable to truly quiet myself and just be with him. Feels unproductive. What will it take for us to just lie down and trust God?
“The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still,” (Ex 14:14).
“Therefore, since the promise of entering his rest still stands, let us be careful that none of you be found to have fallen short of it. … There remains, then, a rest for the people of God; for anyone who enters God’s rest also rests from his own work, just as God did from his. Let us, therefore, make every effort to enter that rest,” (Heb. 4:1).
Even as we long to rest in God, so the Son of Man is still seeking a place to rest his head. We are his resting place. The emerging church is shaking off dead works, turning her eyes back to the fiery passion of her savior.
There are a people arising who hunger for the deeper undercurrents, no longer content with the mental gyrations of churchy legalisms. The coming generation longs for true intimacy with God alone, out of which will flow true power. And the reality of the spiritual realm, with signs, wonders and miracles – which are needed to reach a world in critical darkness – will only come forth through the cultivation of soaking in God’s presence. The inner chamber of his glory, opened by the blood of Christ, is the secret source of all power.
“There is no sweeter manner of living in the world than continuous communion with God. Only those who have experienced it can understand. However, I don’t advise you to practice it for the sole purpose of gaining consolation for your problems. Seek it, rather, because God wills it and out of love for him. If I were a preacher, I would preach nothing but practicing the presence of God,” says Lawrence.
Yes, there is kingdom work to be done. There is a world hungry for the true gospel of Jesus Christ. There are goals to be accomplished and battles to be won. But the work begins in the closet. It begins with knowing God, and not just about him. Being with him, and not just doing for him. Listening to him, and not just talking at him. This does not always sound like practical Christianity. Christianity was never practical.
When we first stop, and just tap into the vine – our fruitfulness multiplies. We can no longer afford to serve for intimacy. We must learn to serve from a posture of intimacy, receiving his love which is so freely given. Soaking in his love will naturally propel us forward into supernatural Christian service.