Day 3 Daniel Fast Devotional - The Poison of Sanctified Apathy- by Josh Christophersen

There is a spiritual hunger in us all. It’s a gnawing, nagging hunger. Many of us try to take the edge off of our hunger so we don’t have to deal with it. We don’t want to deal with it because we know how much it’ll cost, and we know that at this point, we’re not ready to pay the price. So we try to take the edge off. We buy something new, go out to eat, text a friend, rent a movie, play a video game, get things done, surf the internet, or fill our schedules with ministry. We “seek compensation and satisfaction through a varied pattern of beautiful sensations. Sex may be the most sought after, followed by the good vibes and groovy feelings furnished by the taste of food, the sound of music. . . movies and plays, six hours of Sabbath football or even prayer. When such forms of pleasure, leisure and recreation re-create a man, refresh mind and body and revitalize his spirit, they bring a sense of balance, reality and wholeness. (But) sought after for themselves, the roller coaster rides resume. . . (We) keep our lives so jammed with junk food for the soul and amusements for the flesh that we don’t know what it is to be really hungry.” (Tommy Tenney) Eternal desires can never be satisfied with temporal things. Eventually we get so used to this kind of living, that we think it’s normal. We don’t truly live; we’re content just to “get by”, one sensation after another. To cease in dulling the hunger is to face ourselves. We’ll do anything, so long as we don’t have to face our unwillingness to do what we know we need to do– so we don’t have to face our unwillingness to give up the things that really grate against the flesh-you know-the really hard things to resist– the things our flesh really likes. We’ll get rid of the easier things, the things that aren’t as hard for us to resist, the things that aren’t as socially acceptable. But we won’t get rid of the hard things, partly because there’s no consequence in our group of friends if we don’t. It’s socially acceptable, in the church not to get rid of them. “An ambivalent prudence of the flesh seeks a sort of gilded mediocrity where the self is carefully distributed between flesh and spirit with a watchful eye on both.” (Brennan Manning) “As long as the movie doesn’t have nudity or a sex scene I can watch it.” “As long as I’m tithing to church I can buy it.” “As long as it’s on sale I can get it.” “What’s wrong with a little snack?” “Watching hours of football is a great way to “rest” on a Sunday.” “After all I had a hard day.” Many of these things aren’t wrong in and of themselves; it’s the motive behind them: doing, watching, seeing, or buying, all because we’re not willing to do what it takes to find our satisfaction and pleasure in Jesus, because it will tide us over a bit so we don’t have to deal with it now. We’re not willing to give up the wealth, position, popularity, friendship, comfort, or sleep required to spend adequate time with Jesus. “The absence of a divine love experience is painfully apparent. . . The poignant truth remains– He is not enough.” (Brennan Manning) Is the underlying problem here actually a lack of faith? Do we really believe that what God has to offer is truly better? I think many of us say, “No, it’s not better”, because our experience of years “trying God” never really worked. We never experienced what all those books were written about. We never experienced what the preacher preached about. And after years of dissatisfaction and disappointment, we settled into this “gilded mediocrity where the self is carefully distributed between flesh and spirit with a watchful eye on both” maintaining what we believe to be the “necessary minimum requirements for avoiding the pains of hell.” (Brennan Manning) Our security lies in abstaining from the really “big” sins and staying within the carefully set, unwritten rules of compromised morality that the rest of my friends from the church abide by. Eventually we begin to look with anger and resentment on those who seem to be finding true contentment in Jesus. We start to place our frustration with our own unwillingness to die to ourselves on those who are willing. This is usually under the spiritual looking guise of guarding ourselves from extremism and imbalance. Could it be that Christianity “never really worked” because we never really tried Christianity? Could it be that “Christianity has not been tried and found wanting;” but rather “it has been difficult and not tried.” (G.K. Chesterton) Could it be that what we define as Christianity, is what the rich young ruler went away sad for? The rich young ruler was doing all the things that many of us have been putting our security in for years and yet he went away sad, because it was not what Jesus required to inherit eternal life. Perhaps that’s why many of have gone home sad from so many services, meetings, conferences, books, and quiet times. Have we really forsaken all to follow Jesus, or are we still holding on to something? The tighter we squeeze this grip on our lives, the tighter we squeeze our own necks, until we’re barely breathing and barely living. In order to be filled we need to be emptied. In order to live we’ve got to die. “For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it.” (Matt 16:25) “Every man dies, not every man really lives.” (William Wallace)

Let go and live.

Comments