LISTENING TO A WHISPERING GOD IN A SCREAMING WORLD

Is God not speaking or am I not listening?  I admit that I’m as distracted by the noise of the world as the next man.  Current events in North American culture show me a parade of men who, if I believe what I hear, have behaved badly….preyed on those less powerful.  Try as I may, like a car crash, I can’t stop looking at it.  Has what has transpired recently really been that surprising?  Why is observing the self-destruction of others so captivating?  Who did we think these people were other than what they are?

(At the time this was written the #metoo movement was in the headlines)

As I read the Bible God consistently engages people personally.  He speaks to them.  Much of the time the characters I read about were living in such a way expecting to hear from God.  Sometimes God spoke to men who had no interest in him at all.  God spoke to Pharaoh but the king of Egypt didn’t understand what the message was or who in fact it was  who brought the message.  God spoke to the king of Babylon and Daniel explained to him the most profound of prophecies.  Through the pages of the Bible God is speaking to people.

As the New Testament unfolds God takes another step as he engages people.  He became a man…a human….and lived among people.  He had a family…a community…employment….friends.  He spoke as we speak to each other….audible words…received by people with their ears.  Popular religion seems to teach at least in practice that Jesus….the God man….lived…died…rose again…and finally went back to Heaven.  From that time until now mankind has never heard from God again.  At the historical conclusion of the Bible the message seems to be that God’s involvement with people on a personal level concluded.  The work of Jesus as the indwelling Holy Spirit has been with some success relegated to the lunatic fringe.  It’s hard to find people who can agree on what the Holy Spirit does…..so we don’t talk about him. Consequently…ask a millennial what/who is the Holy Spirit…..prepare for the sound of crickets.

I’m not a fan of religion…denominational rules and practices or a fan of those who tell me what I must do or not do to be in good standing with the divine.  The fact that there are people who do such things only confirms my opinion that people really don’t believe God speaks…or wishes to engage them personally….so we rely on the clergy to tell us what God wants so we can please him….what he demands so we can obey him….with no inkling at all that because of Jesus he has made a kingdom of priests with direct access to his throne.

God is speaking….TO ME…every day!  In the morning when I awaken I am reminded that his mercy is renewed for me today.  My earnest desire is to put my feet on the floor and proceed through the day in conversation with God….avoid the noise….lean closer so that as he whispers I feel his breath on my cheek.  Seeking his presence is a full time conscious endeavor.  As difficult circumstances arise I want my prayer/thought to be, “Father….what do you want me to say…to do?”  Much of the time my thought process is, “Ok, how can I fix this?” or “How can I manage my way through this?”

The Bible says that God is a rewarder of those who diligently seek him.  Why seek for a silent God?  My hope…my earnest expectation is that the reward he bestows is….more…more of himself….less of the distraction of my natural appetites.  I want more.

Here’s the dangerous part.  As a parent I have tried to speak truth into the lives of my children.  At some point it occurred to me that I was and continue to be ignored.  I stopped talking.  Now as it pertains to my children there are friendly encounters and waiting…waiting for the inevitable crash and burn…the inevitability of natural consequences.  They are happy to ask me or their mother for what they want but only disdain for what we think.  I understand that mindset completely because that is a fair accounting of how I related to God.  Then there was mercy….mercy is one standing in the wreckage of his own creation or sitting at the bottom of the pit of bad choices….and remembering the voice of God.  Who but a speaking God would tap the shoulder of the broken and twisted and say (not ask) “Remember me.”

But I don’t know, that’s just me talkin’.