Dark, Yet Lovely

Take me with you – let us hurry! Let the king bring me into his chambers. We rejoice and delight in you; we will praise your love more than wine. How right they are to adore you! (Song 1:4)

The Lord’s hand has been heavy on me this week. At times, I have just been undone by the tangible “weight of glory” that has physically pressed me to the floor. As we begin to taste new levels of intimacy, we are always drawn to a place of renewed intoxication. I say “drawn” because we confess that we cannot enter into deep communion unless the Lord takes me with Him.

He always initiates. Then like young lovers, we are spurred by deep desire – consumed by the inner drive He awakens. We are compelled by an urgency to go further into the bed chamber. Understandably, our first look at Him brings love at first sight, and we almost impetuously want to go all the way. Not just talking about it. Not just motivated by duty. We are honestly in a hurry to run into the secret place of His Presence. Although our hearts are revived by this ever-increasing flame of holy love, it is so intense that our strength is sapped. Wave after wave of His presence pours over us. We feel it transforming us.

Again, the text makes reference to the literal drunkenness – the daze that accompanies young love – as it did earlier, “your love is more delightful than wine” (vs. 2).

Here we see the beloved, like a young girl with her friends, daydreaming of being drawn up into the chariots and whisked away by the great King Solomon. Like a fairy tale, she is watching on the street corner as he passes by. She is like a young girl who dreams about a romantic prince. This is first love. Remember how your heart once sank for your first love?

In this life we become jaded. Desensitized. We forget. We forget how just a glance in our direction, or a slight brush of the skin, used to elicit such emotion and passion. The subtle innuendos and softly spoken words that used to tingle us to the core. We would spend hours just thinking about our lover. We couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep. We would read into every gesture – relish every word, drink in every pause in the conversation.

But after a while, we lose feeling. We lose our taste, our senses dull.

Dark am I, yet lovely, O daughters of Jerusalem, dark like the tents of Kedar, like the tent curtains of Solomon (vs. 5).

We carry upon us a certain darkness. Yes, it is the tainting of sin. It is the general uncleanness of this life – like the tents of Kedar, the nomads who wander in the fallen world. The oppression and hardening that comes with sin and suffering weighs upon us. It is a darkness that veils – hides us away from the King, like Solomon’s own tent curtains. Like the veil that restricts us from the most Holy Place in Solomon’s temple. We identify with the darkness of that veil, more than we identify with the King Himself.

Dark am I. … yet lovely.

It is important to remember that, despite this darkness, I still carry an allure. A fragrance that somehow attracts the King. And though I must never deny or boast in my state of darkness, it is not darkness with which I identify. I am the bride. I am darkened on the one hand, yes. But on the other hand, I am the spotless, holy queen. The Canticles here foreshadow the dual nature of man centuries before the spilling of Christ’s cleansing blood.

Interestingly, before love is conceived – it is just awakening here – there is an honest assertion of my fallen state. Before I can even begin to enter this garden, I must acknowledge my shortcomings. There is a simple, but straightforward confession. I am dark. But I do not stay there, because likewise, I am lovely.

Do not stare at me because I am dark, because I am darkened by the sun. My mother’s sons were angry with me and made me take care of the vineyards; my own vineyard I have neglected (vs. 6)

It was the world that tainted me. I have been outside. My senses were deadened, hardened under the oppression of the sun. I was drawn to labor under other men’s vision. I served the needs and goals of others. Other men’s ministries and projects. Drawn to labor for the business, trafficking and desire of men. And under this sun, I was scorched. Perhaps burned out. My own vineyard was neglected.

Where is the vineyard I have neglected? It is the secret relationship with my Lover. That solitary place we enter, which bears the fruit of intimacy. In the business of work and ministry and doing good for others, I have neglected my first love.

The greatest thing a Christian can ever do is to cultivate a secret relationship with the Lord.

Tell me, you whom I love, where you graze your flock and where you rest your sheep at midday. Why should I be like a veiled woman beside the flocks of your friends? (vs. 7)

We see here that the beloved begins to dare to draw near. For the burning of love within can no longer constrain her from drawing close to the Shepherd, even though her darkness may contrast the seeming purity of the “flocks of His friends.” There is, for each of us, a point of choice, when we determine just exactly who we will be. Whether we will continue to stay behind the veil of our own darkness, or come close to Him despite it. It is this desperate longing to draw near to Him, even in the midst of our sin, which leads us to the place where His sheep feed and find rest. We remember anew that “while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom. 5:8). It causes us to see ourselves in a different light. We are no longer the “veiled.” We are the Beloved.

Consider Mary Magdalene. Surely her blemishes were hidden from no one. Yet the eyes of Jesus saw only one who was “forgiven much.” She could have stayed outside the religious tents of the Pharisees, and outside the inner circle of disciples, as Jesus dined at their table. She could have chosen not to draw near to the flocks of His friends. But instead, she was driven by a broken adoration to weep at His feet and pour herself out in His presence. She had tasted His mercy. This inner drive caused her to scorn the shame of her own ill repute and the accusations of men, and she pressed into a place of intimacy. She humbly exposed herself and her weaknesses before men, to be counted as a lover of God. Boldly, she must have asked, “Why should I remain outside?” And so she sought Him out.

Mary chose to lean in past the veil of religious separation. Past the opinions and doctrines of men. In her weakness, the strength of God was perfected and she was exalted in His sight. We also must seek Him out. But where does he graze His flocks?

If you do not know, most beautiful of women, follow the tracks of the sheep and graze your young goats by the tents of the shepherds (vs. 8)

To find where He feeds His flock, we are called to learn from others. Become corporate. Follow in the footsteps of the sheep. Learn from the shepherds, the pastors. As we merge close to their tents, the knowledge of God is deposited into us. The atmosphere of heaven rubs off onto us. We step cautiously at first into this place of vulnerability and submission. But later it is rewarded. Christ is multiplied and birthed through us, even as we graze our young goats (prepare the sin offering). Like David, we are prepared in the fields. Remember, David’s faithfulness with a “few sheep” was later transformed into kingly authority and an eternal throne. It is what we do with little that determines whether the Lord will entrust us with much.

Notice here, that no longer is her darkness stared upon, but the Beloved is called for the first time “beautiful.” She is no longer defending herself against her own blemishes, but she is justified. Though she is still seeking, though she is still learning and growing – it is the gladness and pleasure of God toward her that brings her into maturity. It is not a staring into her own sin, but a gazing into His eyes of fire that purifies.

And now, for the first time, we hear the Lover speak. His first words are a statement of approval and worth:

I liken you, my darling, to a mare harnessed to one of the chariots of Pharoah. Your cheeks are beautiful with earrings, your neck with strings of jewels. We will make you earrings of gold, studded with silver (vs. 9-11).

Only God can get away with calling his bride a horse. No, but honestly, this passage speaks of great, passionate favor. He tells the bride exactly how He pictures her: I liken you, my darling …He names her, as Adam named Eve. He tells her who she is. There is no darkness here. She is a horse pulling the chariot of Pharoah. That means she has been found worthy and selected to carry the Kings glory! A carrier of the presence of the Lord. The greatest of us cannot conceive of this honor, though we have all been called to such a task. Keep in mind, this was written in the days when Uzzah dropped dead for reaching out his hand to steady the Ark of the Covenant. To be a carrier of the glory is a tremendous, unheard of honor, now afforded to all believers.

This passage also speaks of the perfect submission that has been fused into the bride – and not of her own doing. Even as her strength is harnessed, so does she also wear earrings – again, this is a sign of a love slave, or bondservant. One who has chosen to submit. In doing so, she exchanges the yoke of pride and rebellion with jewels to adorn her neck. The yoke of the Lord is truly so light, it can be compared to a jewel-encrusted adornment. At one point in the Old Testament, the Lord actually had to rebuke His people for talking about the “burden of the Lord,” for nothing the Lord places upon us can truly be considered a burden when weighed on the scales of eternity. Even our sufferings and light, momentary afflictions cannot be rightly compared to the weight of glory they are storing up for us.

We will continue our look at Solomon’s Song next week.

A Life Poured Out

Pleasing is the fragrance of your perfumes; your name is like perfume poured out. No wonder the maidens love you! (Song 1:3)

Jesus, the “anointed one,” the smeared one, is saturated with the fragrant oil of God. He emanates the presence of God in a way that permeates the atmosphere. There is a virtual aura of manifest glory around Him that intoxicates and awakens the spiritual senses.

As believers, we are called to take on this fragrant nature. His full being – the entirety of His tangible glory – should also be released through us, as we are conduits for channeling the substance of Heaven into the earth. The fragrance of God is a provocative notion that first stirs us from afar. We catch His aroma from a distance, and we are compelled to draw near, come closer.

Even as Jesus poured Himself out for us on the cross, and even as God freely pours out His Spirit upon those who believe, so are we called to pour ourselves out before him like a drink offering – spilling our hearts out on the dry ground of the earth – laying our lives down for our fellow man, as if in sacrifice to God Himself. “Freely you have received, freely give” (Mt. 10:8). The world is drawn to God through us, as the fragrance of our own sacrificial lives is an ever-present reminder of Him.

But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of Him. For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. To the one we are the smell of death; to the other, the fragrance of life… (2 Cor. 2:14-16).

:: progressive aroma ::

Some scholars point out that the passage above suggests a progressive aroma. For the believer, it is the fragrance of moving from life to life. To the redeemed, it is an aroma that ever gets better and better. The fragrance of the Lord will always increase in pleasure and potency. Likewise, for the perishing, it is the always increasing stench of death.

I once had an encounter with the tangible fragrance of Jesus. Not just a smell, but a living presence. Many times I have smelled His aroma with the natural senses during worship. But once, during a dream, a leader was anointing various people with oil, and as the fragrance of the oil wafted near to us, it would cause us to laugh as we “felt” the scent ripple through our bodies. Suddenly, I turned my head to look up, and I was unexpectedly dabbled with this stuff. As the person touched my face, my senses opened up full throttle and the aroma came into my body like the living Ether of Heaven. I was launched into a brilliant ecstasy as I was literally possessed by the smell of Jesus. I woke up at that moment, and just lay there in bed for half an hour, drenched in it, as the strong, sweet aroma literally spilled over into the natural realm and filled my room. It was one of the most supernatural experiences I have ever had.

Christ is also drawn to the fragrance of the Beloved, even as we are drawn to the aroma of Christ. Verse 12 of this chapter in Solomon’s Song shows us that, “While the King was at His table, my perfume spread its fragrance.” Compare this to Mary Magdalene in John 12, pouring out her own expensive perfume, worth a year’s wages, over the feet of Jesus as He sat at the table. She anointed Him for the day of His burial, “and the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume” (Jn. 12:3). This was one of the most dramatic demonstrations of worship in scripture. Yet Judas becomes incensed when that fragrance reaches his nostrils, arguing that the oil should have been sold and the money given to the poor. His thievery is exposed, and shortly afterward, he betrays the Lord altogether.

The pouring out of one’s self to God, in recklessly abandoned faith, provokes those around you either to blessing or cursing. Your outpouring will permeate the room. It is a catalyst. You will smell to them like Heaven’s aloes, or your garments will reek of hell’s sulfur. There is no middle ground. The word of God always elicits a response, and that response always hinges on the heart of the hearer.

The preaching of the gospel, the outward demonstration of true worship, the sharing of the “fragrance of the knowledge of Him” always draws a line in the sand. I do not speak of those who putz along in their undercover, closet Christianity for decades and never make an impact in the world. But when there is an overtly radical outpouring of one’s self for the gospel, to the Bridegroom, the atmosphere intensifies. It brings polarity. It’s supposed to do that. It’s the sword Jesus said He would bring in place of peace. It strikes deep to divide the soul asunder and weigh men’s hearts on the balance of eternity.

When more of Heaven is revealed, so are men’s hearts around us revealed and reflected in the message of the gospel. The great missionary martyr Jim Elliot prayed, “Father, make me a crisis man. Bring those I contact to decision. Let me not be a milepost on a single road. Make me a fork, that men must turn one way or another on facing Christ in me.”

Few of us want to be carriers of this type of fragrance that demands a verdict – that guarantees blessing or cursing. But the Lord is looking for a messenger He can send, whom He will wield like a flame of fire. To the hearer who is being saved, more is added to what he has already. The myrrhs of Heaven draw that one deeper into the bridal chamber. But to the one who is perishing, even what he has is taken further from him. This is because he is brought to the point of decision, and he further rejects the word of grace. To the Christian, sacrificial death speaks of a greater resurrection. Outpouring is blessing. The seed that dies produces an abundant harvest. To the unrepentant, however, their rejection of the knowledge of God further seals their pact with hell. Without faith, outpouring is emptiness, loss, devastation. The cross is a foolish offense – one pouring himself into the void. Two perspectives, two different roads.

:: two perspectives ::

C.S. Lewis writes in The Great Divorce that hell is an unlocked place with open gates, whose residents freely choose to stay there, although they are ever presented with the heavenly alternative. This is only speculation of course, but his point is well taken. The inner choosing of our hearts has much to do with our ultimate perspective. To one, God’s presence is a passionate fire. To another, it is a scorching oppression. To one, the Lord is an aromatic wind; to another, He is a stench and a whirlwind.

There is no room for indecision with this God of ours. We will sacrifice, or we will retract. We will follow, or we will reject. If God were an ideology or a religious world view, we could put Him on the shelf to ponder later. But since He is a living God, He is ever provoking us to deal with Him. Holy Spirit is always described as an active, fleeting Being – symbolized by water, oil, wind, a dove in flight. He is a God of movement, because without movement, there is no life. In the same way, God is ever in the process of flowing and “pouring out” through the pages of scripture. Throughout the books of the prophets, we are ever reminded of two essential things that God continually promises to pour out: His wrath and His Spirit. The fiery old Irish preacher Ian Paisley says there are only two fitting emotions that can rightly be attributed to God – love and wrath. Love and wrath.

These are times of great outpouring, when God’s presence is being spilled over onto all flesh. To us, His Beloved, He is poured out to our favor. But I would wager that, in whatever area our heart is unrefined, he is poured out to our harm. While we constantly beg God to come nearer – to reveal Himself more and more – it is actually His mercy toward us that He doesn’t do so. In our still darkened state, we would perish. It is the “pure in heart” that will see God. In many ways, my own senses have not yet been trained to discern his most pleasurable scent. And while He is ever knocking at my door, always at hand offering blessing, in the strife of my dual nature, I too perceive most of those blessings as wrath.

Like Esther, I must prepare for a deep encounter with the King. I, too, must soak in His fragrances, until I am saturated, and the scent of Heaven becomes a part of me. Esther spent 12 months soaking in oils and perfumes in preparation, and when she faced the King, He extended His favor to her. We must prepare ourselves with the oil of His presence.

:: paradox of the table ::

Consider the table where Jesus sits here in John 12. On one hand is Lazarus reclining, a reminder of resurrection to eternal rest. On the other hand is Judas, a harbinger of the second death. Judas was always hearing, but never perceiving. There is always opportunity to eat to our health or eat to our destruction at the Lord’s table, depending on whether we rightly discern His body. And when the oil of heaven is poured out, I am faced with the conflicting nature of both Judas and Lazarus in my own heart.

Martha is there, too, likely serving. Outside are the poor who follow Jesus for a meal. The poor are always with us, Jesus said. This is important to remember, when discussing the poured out life. A life poured out is not just about duty and service – it’s about a heart captivated by God. Mary, the redeemed, who had learned to “love much,” was not thinking “feed the poor.” She was rightly thinking, “Worship the Lover of my soul.” She was consumed with that.

Jesus fed the poor. His works of practical service to fellow man were many. But His service to man never circumvented His direct devotion to the will of the Father. When we utterly sell out and throw ourselves before God, the manifestation of our holy love will necessarily result in obedience to the second commandment: loving our neighbor as ourselves. But as closely connected as these instructions become (to love God is to love man), the delineation between them could not be more important.

See, the world is fine with our acts of Christian service – our faith-based programs and social relief that brings a productive, calculated benefit to society. The world can stomach such things, and we should never neglect them. We should “do to the least of these” what we would do to Christ, in terms of human service. But at the core of our Christian walk, we are called to the holy place – the pouring out of rich fragrance directly on the feet of Jesus. And that will always be offensive to a man-pleasing spirit. They cannot comprehend why we eat His flesh and drink His blood. Why we forsake all. Why we embrace the offense of the cross. Why we lay down all rights and sensibilities, selling everything to follow after Him. Why we leave mothers and brothers and houses and fields for the gospel … well …that is when they cry madman. Nutcase. Fanatic. Gone too far.

Yet this is the poured out life. Giving God everything, and God alone. A radical, uncompromised emptying of ourselves, coupled with an ever increasing infilling, from glory to glory, life to life, as he woos us deeper into His chambers.

From Whorehouse to Holy Place

In this week’s study we will venture along deeper pathways, moving on from “the elementary principles of Christ … not laying again the foundation of repentance from dead works and of faith toward God.” (Heb. 6:1) We have discussed foundational issues of repentance and purity in recent weeks, only as a prerequisite for building higher. A vessel is purified and washed only so that it can hold a thing, and so we are created to be carriers of the very substance of God Himself.

Of course, repentance is a lifelong work, and by no means a one-stop experience at the point of conversion. The Lord is constantly drawing us toward “truth in the inmost parts” (Ps. 51:6). Our half-converted hearts must continue to be renewed, transformed and sanctified, and in the process, there is no room for compromise. This is the outer court washing process, necessary to encounter the intimate union of the most holy place. Picking up where we left off in James, the apostle tells us bluntly:

You adulterous people, don’t you know that friendship with the world is hatred toward God? Anyone who chooses to be a friend of the world becomes an enemy of God. Or do you think scripture says without reason that the spirit he caused to live in us envies intensely? (Jas. 4:4-5)

We must break past the roadblock of our adulterous hearts, in order to be wholly devoted to our Lover. The Lord is jealous for our devotion, which we are so prone to hand over to idols. I believe there is a tangible element of divine adoration foreshadowed through Hosea the prophet, which can literally break us through and break us free in this area.

:: the hosea anointing ::

Marry a prostitute? Um …thanks God … I guess.

I doubt you will hear many people asking for “the Hosea anointing.” Few want to follow in the footsteps of this prophet. Imagine Hosea: he is literally told by God to hook up with a harlot. In the process, she continues to sleep around, giving birth to other men’s bastard children. Hosea even gets to name them catchy things like “Not Loved” and “Not My People.” Does this family sound a bit dysfunctional?

This is not something we would reasonably ask the Lord for, but Hosea demonstrates the heart of the Lord in a way that no one else does in scripture. The crux of Hosea’s story is about God’s relentless love, even toward a most spiritually adulterous people. Hosea and his wife are a prophetic symbol of God’s relationship with us.

I firmly believe that God equates all sin as spiritual adultery. We are so prone to forget Him and turn our pursuits elsewhere. Does Hosea warn of punishment for these sins? Yes. All sin has consequences. But the heart of our Lover – His deepest desire – is not to punish, and never to condemn. His heart is for redemption and union with His bride.
Hosea is full of grieving over the bride’s unfaithful actions, but he earnestly wants to see her restored to relationship with him. We see Hosea going so far as to search out his wife in the pit of her filth, and buy her life back from the adulterous lovers that sold her as a slave.

Amidst Hosea’s warnings to God’s people for their spirit of prostitution, the underlying heart of the message is simply this:

Therefore I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her. … "In that day," declares the Lord, "you will call me ‘husband’; you will no longer call me ‘my master’” (Hos. 2:14-16).

The spirit of prostitution can only be broken through the allure of true love.

:: allure ::

The Bridegroom wants to allure us. He will often bring us to the end of our circumstances, stripping us bare of our false comforts in the desert of purification. But it is always to woo us, and awaken us to love.

We often associate God with the emotion of anger and wrath. We consider him distant, perhaps moody. But the truth could not be further. We must understand that His thoughts are always toward us and that God longs to pour out his gladness and pleasure upon us. Micah 7:18 says:

Who is a God like you, who pardons sin and forgives the transgression of the remnant of his inheritance? You do not stay angry forever but delight to show mercy.

To understand the Hosea heart of God, is to understand that before we can ever love Him, He first loves us. I am unable to cultivate hunger for God until I can grasp His passion for me. This is a core message of the Canticles. Our study will be launching into the Song of Solomon over the next few weeks, and it is interesting to see how this book begins:

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth – for your love is more delightful than wine (Song 1:1)

It is God’s intoxicating kiss toward me that begins this holy love affair. One of the Greek words for “worship” is proskuneo, which literally means to “kiss toward.” There is something within man that consumes the heart of God. Of course, God does not worship man – but I guarantee that His devotion toward you and I far exceeds anything we have ever given Him. Interesting huh? The Worshipped One loves the worshipper far more than the contrary.

:: preparing for the bedchamber ::

As we go deeper, we must take a right perspective on the love of God. It is not a fluffy, sentimental thing that overlooks our adultery. And an adequate assessment of our sins is necessary to grasp it, but only as a prerequisite to prepare us for the King’s bedchamber.

Is it true that I am adulterous? Yes. Am I a hypocrite? Yes. Denial gets us nowhere. If we fully judge ourselves against the law, as we should (not against one another), we soon see that we fall utterly and completely short of its demands. But the presence of our sinful nature never diminishes God’s utter delight in us.

To truly encounter the fiery love of Jesus is not to linger in an apathetic acknowledgment of sin, doing nothing about it. His breathtaking presence shatters us. We cannot help but repent – the word being metanoia, or literally, a change of mind. That is, our consciousness is turned toward God, and in surveying His goodness, we are transformed.

There is much preparation and groundwork we do to prepare for the bridal love to which we are called. But a basic element is to begin identifying ourselves the way God does. How does God truly perceive us?

He does not think of us as adulterers. He does not think of us as hypocrites – not even as worship machines. He thinks of us as His bride. There is something God took out of Himself and put into us that attracts Him to us. God will not be whole, until that element is returned to Him. Even as a rib was taken out of Adam to create Eve, his bride, so is the ruah breath of God breathed into us, and a deposit of Himself was given to mankind as we were created in His image. How much more do we carry the substance of His worth with the blood of Christ covering our transgressions?

Another translation of James 4:5, which we read above, says that “God jealously longs for the spirit that he made to live in us.” He placed Himself within us, and that attracts Him to us all the more.

We struggle to grow. We struggle to mature. But in the process, the pleasure of God is still toward us. We cannot think that God will take pleasure in us only after we are perfect. Perfection will never happen this side of heaven. The key is this: Knowing that God enjoys me, even in the midst of my sin and immaturity, is the very thing that enables me to overcome.

The Beloved notes in Song of Solomon 1:5, “Dark am I, but lovely.” Despite my darkness, despite my sins and failure, I have still captured the heart of God. There is still an intrinsic beauty about myself that literally inebriates God.

Let us begin to prophetically identify ourselves with the worth Christ has placed on us. Let us understand His desperation to be with us, to draw us closer, even though we haven’t arrived yet. When the Lord first called out to Gideon, He called him a “mighty warrior,” even though Gideon was hiding in a winepress from his enemies. God sees you in a future tense. He knows the plans and purposes He has for you.

Despite our present impurities, it is time we identify ourselves as the Spotless Bride. Let us step forward into the confidence that allows us to draw near to the throne of grace. Let us risk stepping forward into the King’s presence. We will be surprised to find that He extends His golden scepter in our direction.

Developing a Passion for Purity

In our pursuit of intimacy with the Lord, we have been tackling the necessary subjects of sin and purity in recent weeks, as well as the cultivation of wisdom. The very reason the Lord places emphasis on these issues in scripture, is to ultimately draw us closer to His heart.

True wisdom is always consummated in love for God. And true wisdom is always marked by purity.

:: become the fire ::

“But who can endure the day of His coming? Who can stand when he appears? For He will be like a refiner’s fire or a launderer’s soap. He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver; He will purify the Levites and refine them like gold and silver. …” (Mal.3:2-3).

God is making for Himself worshippers in this hour whose lives are enflamed with purity, who are unattached to the things of the world. They desire only their Lover. We must move beyond acceptance of this cleansing fire. Let us even move beyond submission to the fire. Let us become the fire. Hebrews 1:7 says the Lord makes “His servants a flame of fire.”

This fire is synonymous with purging, and it is also synonymous with passion. It is burning desire. The great revivalist John Wesley said “I set myself on fire and people came to watch me burn.” In fact, our God Himself is a “consuming fire,” and to become one with Him is to take on His fiery nature.

Take note that the cleansing flame of the Lord has little to do with exterior form and ritual. Most of us realize that the ceremonial laws of the Old Testament, for example, spoke of the cleansing and purification process that would later occur in the heart of the New Testament believer. The water, incense and burning sacrifices were shadows of Christ’s work in us. Once we have the substance, why return to the shadow? If we focus on having our hearts purified, our outward actions will match up accordingly.

:: below the whitewash ::

As a newspaper journalist, many people asked me over the years why we chose to cover certain stories. While the stories themselves may be fair and accurate, the fact that certain newspapers tend to cover certain stories can often reflect a particular bias. What gets the front cover? Why does it get the front cover?

The same is true for believers, and the message we choose to preach. Many believers rightly point out the value of certain practices and religious concepts, but what do they put on the front cover? What gets the most focus? When we look at the ministry of Jesus, our ultimate example, he preached an uncompromising message on moral law, but his main focus was on the state of our hearts. He never majored on minor legal statutes.

It is important to understand what purity is not. God is not so interested in a process of purging external forms and negligible actions in our lives – petty cultural differences, our opinions on tattoos, mini-skirts and chewing gum in church. This fire burns much deeper within. However, without maturity, we are quick to return to form and practice, calling that holiness. Major on the minors. We may focus too heavily on rules, while neglecting relationship.

Jesus pointed out that the religious leaders of His day were whitewashed tombs, whose external practices looked impeccable, yet within, their hearts were full of dead men’s bones.

“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You give a tenth of your spices – mint, dill and cumin. But you have neglected the more important matters of the law – justice, mercy and faithfulness. You should have practiced the latter, without neglecting the former. You blind guides! You strain out a gnat but swallow a camel” (Matt. 23:23-24).

Jesus specifically addresses teachers and religious leaders here. Often the state of the church is an immediate reflection of its leaders. Why is the standard for teachers so high in the body of Christ? There are the obvious reasons. But for one, they are literally God’s agent of fire on the earth to cleanse His temple. If there is no fire in the hearts of the leaders, there will be impurities in the church. Jesus knew it was a common temptation for leaders to cleanse the outside of the cup, and get their outward practices perfect to the tee – yet miss altogether the weightier matters of the law: purging the heart of its wickedness.

:: purging to maturity ::

Obviously, we seek balance and maturity in leadership. Growing in wisdom brings countless benefits to our lives, not the least of which is peace and stability. “Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of men in their deceitful scheming” (Eph. 4:14).

We can burn out quickly and lose our zeal after being tossed around by every wave of teaching. Notice that Paul did not just specify “bad” teaching here. We can be tossed around by good doctrines just as easily. That is why it is always important to keep the main thing the main thing. Even focusing on getting our own hearts clean can distract us from Jesus Himself! I know plenty of over-repentant folks who can never get their eyes off themselves long enough to enjoy the Lord. Setting our gaze on Jesus is the primary way we will ever develop a clean heart. We can’t wash up on our own. As we fix our eyes on Jesus and lift Him up, He will draw all men to Himself.

Some entire ministries are built around a particular set of doctrines while, though not bad, can still distract us from the simplicity of loving Christ. We must keep Him on the front cover.

When ministries get built around minor or abstract doctrines, there comes a lack of balance which, in the end, can cause serious divisiveness and even apostasy. This is why every stream of ministry – even “specialist” groups and parachurch organizations – should remain in a state of mutual submission to the rest of the body of Christ. There is always the temptation to isolate or think we are on the cutting edge.

It is no coincidence that Paul speaks of the full, fivefold ministry of apostles, prophets, teachers, evangelists and pastors in this chapter as being necessary for bringing about the fullness of maturity mentioned here in Ephesians 4. We need a universal balance of ministry styles and giftings – all functions of the body working in cohesion – to protect us from the “cunning and craftiness of men in their deceitful scheming.” Unity and accountability are important.

Sheep are very impressionable, and they are, by nature, followers. “Craftiness” is a deliberate, though sometimes unintentional effort to mislead them – perhaps for personal gain, or some other reason. It is an attribute first given to satan himself in Genesis 3:1. I think we will be surprised one day to find out how much craftiness has actually taken place from behind our pulpits – how many manipulative tactics have been used to prod people toward seemingly good ideas, doctrines or projects. But manipulation is equal to the sin of witchcraft. Prophetic teacher Rick Joyner defines witchcraft as “using any spirit other than the Holy Spirit to manipulate or control others with. This can be done to accomplish our own purpose, or even a noble purpose, and even something we feel called to do for the Lord. … Tacking the Lord’s name onto a project does not mean that the Lord is behind it.”

This may sound severe to some, and my intent is not to criticize the church. But James is very clear regarding the high caliber of accountability in ministry.

“Not many of you should presume to be teachers, my brothers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly” (James 3:1).

James points out here in this chapter that the tongue is lit with the flames of hell and can steer the entire body off course. So are the words of the teacher in the body of Christ who lacks wisdom and understanding. James next points out that there are two types of wisdom at work in the world.

“Who is wise and understanding among you? Let him show it by his good life, by deeds done in the humility that comes from wisdom.

“But if you harbor bitter envy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not boast about it or deny the truth. Such ‘wisdom’ does not come down from heaven but is earthly, unspiritual of the devil.

“For where you have envy and selfish ambition, there you will find disorder and every evil practice” (James 3:13-16)

Here we see the fruits of ungodly wisdom: envy and selfish ambition. These are the things Jesus wants purged from our midst, long before we start tithing our spices. It is interesting that James tells us neither to deny, nor to boast about selfish ambition in our hearts. Instead, we need to get on our faces and deal with it. But the fruits of true wisdom are not unlike the fruits of love in many ways. The chief among them is purity:

“But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere” (James 3:17).

:: cleansing the heart ::

What is purity? Is it “almost” pure … pure most of the time? Is it, “I’ve come along way towards purity?” Is it 98 percent pure?

Consider this: Would you drink a bottle of clean, fresh spring water that was 98 percent pure, and only 2 percent sewage? A little yeast – a little bit of selfish ambition – works through the whole loaf. What if you were faithful to your spouse most of the time? Even 98 percent of the time wouldn’t cut it! Our motives in ministry, or any service to the Lord, need to be purified completely. Does that mean we cease to serve the Lord until we have pure motives? By no means. We serve Him now, in the capacity we can afford right now. But we should do so in humility and the fear of the Lord, rightly acknowledging our own shortcomings. His strength is made perfect in our weakness.

God loves me unconditionally. In fact, God loves me too much to leave me the way that I am. And so, He is faithful to crush me. Ultimately, we discover that the Lord is not trying to fix us. He’s trying to kill us. The old man is irreparable, he has to go. God wants to wreck us with such recklessly abandoned love that we can’t help but to pour our lives out before Him. I am emptied of everything – good and bad – to make room for more of Him in my life. Understanding that this purification process is a work of God’s presence, as well as a labor of love, is a liberating concept. The spirit of religion draws men to kill themselves with deeds, the end of which actually strengthens the flesh all the more. But the Spirit of God brings liberty and freedom from the sinful nature. For “where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom” (2 Cor. 3:17).

Of course this freedom is not license for sin or complacency, but it literally enables us to willingly desire the refining, purifying flame of the Lord to burn within us. By it, we develop a passion for purity, and we learn to embrace the fire for what it does to us. We learn that whenever our lives are tossed into the furnace of suffering or affliction, we will always find Jesus there in the midst of the flames with us.

Our sanctification is a lifelong process, but as our hearts are purified, we are free to ask anything else that we wish. James said, “You do not have, because you do not ask God. When you ask, you do not receive, because you ask with wrong motives, that you may spend what you get on your pleasures” (ch. 4:2-3).

How much is available to the pure in heart? All things are possible. Let us wash our hands and purify our hearts. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith, and spend ourselves on the eternal pleasures at His right hand.