It was my awesome privilege a few weeks ago to join the fine people of the Marriage and Family Formation division of Focus on the Family (which includes all the Boundless crew) at their weekly devotions on the campus in Colorado Springs. Over the course of 20 or so minutes, I shared some things that have transformed my thinking about my relationship with Jesus over the past several years.
Boundless contributor Suzanne Hadley was in there and later on mentioned it on the blog. Eventually someone requested that I share some of that devotion in my column, so if you'll permit me to do a very different "Boundless Answers," here are a few thoughts from what I shared.
Suppose you and I graduated high school together back a bunch of years ago, and haven't seen each other in forever. We bump into one another at the grocery store, and make plans to get together with our families and get caught up. I tell you about my beautiful bride I married 20 years ago, and that I can't wait to introduce her to you.
You come to my house at the appointed time, unload your minivan full of teenagers and toddlers, and roll into my house with your clan like a tsunami. It is a wild scene as you dare to discipline your children not to destroy an old friend's home. But something weird is going on.
You look around for my crew, but no one is home. It's just me and an empty house. You notice a few pictures of who you assume to be my wife, but there are none with her and me together in the same picture. You're starting to get a little creeped out.
"Where's that beautiful bride of yours?" you ask nervously, as your spouse looks at you with that I-don't-feel-so-good-about-this look you've come to know so well.
"Oh, she's back here in the computer room!" I say with much excitement.
You and your wife and army of children scurry back to see what in the world is going on, as I pull up her profile on a popular social networking site.
"There she is," I say dotingly. "What did I tell, ya, huh?! She's a knock-out! I know everything about her. We have so much in common! We both love Mexican food and romantic walks on the beach! We share the same values! We're just alike!"
"Well, when can we meet her in person?" you ask.
"Oh, I've never met her," I confess. "I've just done some reading about her and decided I really love her and so declared myself married to her 20 years ago!"
By now you realize that what I have is not a marriage, but a psychosis. I might know everything there is to publicly know about this girl, and even have memorized it. I'm her biggest fan. I have her picture plastered all over my house. I've joined fan sites and forums dedicated to discussing this amazing girl. I've gathered all the information I can about her. But information about a person does not a marriage make.
You've got 20 years of stories and experiences that grow out of real-life relationships — of new babies and first steps and scraped knees and vacations and laughter and tears and hugs and shouts and whispers and giggles and anniversaries and birthdays. I, on the other hand, have a silent profile which has produced not one sound, has borne nothing but barrenness.
That's the difference between knowing about someone, and really knowing them in person.
For so much of my Christian life, I must confess that I've had more of a "profile" knowledge about Jesus than a "personal" relationship with Him. I've been content to know about Jesus in my head by collecting facts and figures from Scripture and books and sermons and songs. I've been a card carrying member of the "industry" of Christianity — all that swirls around this Person — Christian radio, para-church ministries, local churches, seminary education, etc.
I had hoped that at some point all of that information would eventually tip the scales and result in transformation. "Maybe with the next book," I'd say. "Maybe a different study," I'd think. "Maybe a new Bible is what I need." A lot of information, but not much fruit of a real relationship.
Like the girl on the computer profile in my fictional story, I agreed with Jesus on things. He and I were on the same moral and intellectual page. But giving mental ascent to some truths is not the same as having a relationship with a real, present and powerful Person.
It is interesting to me that when I want to deepen my intimacy with my wife, I don't go find the newest book written about her. I don't go and ask her friends about what they think she thinks about this or that. No, when I want intimacy with my wife, I get in her presence and talk to her. We pray together. I listen to her as she shares her heart with me, and then I share mine with her. I ask her questions. I answer her questions. We communicate with one another.
But when I want "more" of God in my life, when I want to deepen my intimacy with Christ, when I hear Him "standing at my door" and knocking, I go into information gathering mode.
God is a person. He speaks. He listens. He feels. He loves. He walked with Adam and Eve in the garden. Jesus was Immanuel, God with us. He sent His very Spirit to dwell in our hearts. Somehow beyond my understanding, the believing heart is the dwelling place of this Personal God.
Like any metaphor of our relationship with Christ, this one breaks down in a lot of ways, not the least of which is that unlike the girl on my computer, Jesus does know me intimately and desires a relationship with me. He created me for His own pleasure. I'm not a stranger to Him. He stands at my door and knocks, ready to dine with me if only I would open that door.
No, I haven't renounced the importance and usefulness of Christian information or education or the local church (I'm a pastor and teacher, so that would be neither smart nor biblical). Nor have I decided to only pray and not read my Bible. I've heard no audible voice of God.
What I have done is determined to allow the Holy Spirit to illuminate these things to help me get past the "profile" to the Person behind it all — the Person who is the Living Word. I've learned to quiet my heart throughout the day, to close out the distractions and turn my attention to the One who knocks at my door. I am learning, as Brother Lawrence famously did, to "practice the presence" of God. The information is now a tool — wood for the fire — that ignites a deeper hunger for and intimacy with God.
Contrary to lacking usefulness, Scripture has come alive to me by the Holy Spirit. Other un-inspired (by that I mean not God-breathed as Scripture was) information has become more interesting and useful than ever before. As I have kept my aim on the Person, the practices (or spiritual disciplines such as prayer, reading and meditating on Scripture, fasting, etc.) have fueled the relationship as the Holy Spirit illuminates truth for me.
I was content to know God in my mind. Now I am passionate to know Him in my heart. Christianity 101? Maybe so. But somehow I lost it in the flurry of information. By the grace of God, I'm enjoying a relationship with a Person — the Person — like never before. And I am seeing much more of the fruit of the Spirit borne in my life than ever before.
Will you allow me an out-of-fashion altar call and invite you to join me in this passionate pursuit of the Person of God? Turn off this computer, find a quiet place or quiet yourself at your work desk, open the door to Him and let Him dine with you. He waits for your invitation. Maybe you could start with this prayer from Psalm 63:
O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water. So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary, beholding your power and your glory. Because your love is better than life, my lips will praise you. So I will bless you as long as I live; in your name I will lift up my hands....
Blessings,
JOHN THOMAS
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If you have a question you'd like John to consider for
this column, please send it to editor@boundless.org. Please note that all questions selected for "Boundless Answers" may be edited for clarity and privacy and become the property of Focus on the Family.
