(I scribbled this yesterday while sitting on the brick terrace overlooking the Creek.)
While reading the insightful arguments of Ravi Zacharias in Can Man Live Without God, I suddenly had to stop. It was as if the thought passing through my mind had eclipsed the evening sun and something like the breath of God was blowing against my back, making me shiver. In my reading I was in the midst of a chapter called “The Philosopher’s Quest.” In the middle of the argument, Dr. Zacharias presents a dichotomy with an example using the two historical characters of the movie Chariots of Fire. The one, Harold Abrahams, ran for personal glory, whereas the other, the Scotsman Eric Liddell, ran out of commitment to excellence and a desire to please God. He quotes Abrahams’s character before his winning race and then makes the comment that startled my soul so:
This leads me back to points Dr. Zacharias brings up earlier in the argument. First is that of worship, which “permeates every aspect of life”—even worship wrongly directed. If I have my eyes set upon the Lord, and to Him I have directed my worship, everything that I do daily will be a reflection of that. If the worship is misdirected, however, in any way or number of ways, my actions will be misdirected. And not only my actions; as Dr. Zacharias asserts, “Our relationships to God dictate our relationships to one another,” and in other words, my relationships with other people is indicative of my relationship with God. Looking back on the past couple of weeks, I could be easy on myself and say that I haven’t been worshipping God in spirit and truth, but it’s more accurate to confess that I’ve been idolatrous, setting my personal glory as a priority over God’s will.
This brings me to the second point concerning identity. Who a person is, in truth, is lost when the pursuit of glory finds its fulfillment within human achievement rather than seeking to glorify the Lord in His sovereignty. Like Abrahams, if worship is directed inward, if excellence is derived from what this person called Philip has to offer, then, though there will be a glorious climax, the glory of that excellence pales in comparison to the kingdom of God, and unlike the kingdom it passes away, leading its possessor down to death with it. I’m reminded of “Dying Star” by Jason Upton, when he sings the words of God to the church:
To put it briefly, the Spirit woke me up yesterday. I will not let my identity rest within my own glorification. I will not plan for my future, work in the present, or meditate on the past with my own personal glory as the focus. I will remain committed to excellence, but to the only true excellence, which is from above.
While reading the insightful arguments of Ravi Zacharias in Can Man Live Without God, I suddenly had to stop. It was as if the thought passing through my mind had eclipsed the evening sun and something like the breath of God was blowing against my back, making me shiver. In my reading I was in the midst of a chapter called “The Philosopher’s Quest.” In the middle of the argument, Dr. Zacharias presents a dichotomy with an example using the two historical characters of the movie Chariots of Fire. The one, Harold Abrahams, ran for personal glory, whereas the other, the Scotsman Eric Liddell, ran out of commitment to excellence and a desire to please God. He quotes Abrahams’s character before his winning race and then makes the comment that startled my soul so:
“You know, I used to be afraid to lose. But now I am afraid to win. I have ten seconds in which to prove the reason for my existence, and even then, I am not sure I will.” The words reveal extraordinary insight, for that is how most personal glory is sought but when procured, leaves the possessor empty.This is where I froze. Being a young man also committed to excellence, am I living with the thinking of Harold Abrahams? The answer left me to acknowledge my spiritual depravity in that horrifying moment.
Copyright © 1994 Ravi Zacharias. All rights reserved.
This leads me back to points Dr. Zacharias brings up earlier in the argument. First is that of worship, which “permeates every aspect of life”—even worship wrongly directed. If I have my eyes set upon the Lord, and to Him I have directed my worship, everything that I do daily will be a reflection of that. If the worship is misdirected, however, in any way or number of ways, my actions will be misdirected. And not only my actions; as Dr. Zacharias asserts, “Our relationships to God dictate our relationships to one another,” and in other words, my relationships with other people is indicative of my relationship with God. Looking back on the past couple of weeks, I could be easy on myself and say that I haven’t been worshipping God in spirit and truth, but it’s more accurate to confess that I’ve been idolatrous, setting my personal glory as a priority over God’s will.
This brings me to the second point concerning identity. Who a person is, in truth, is lost when the pursuit of glory finds its fulfillment within human achievement rather than seeking to glorify the Lord in His sovereignty. Like Abrahams, if worship is directed inward, if excellence is derived from what this person called Philip has to offer, then, though there will be a glorious climax, the glory of that excellence pales in comparison to the kingdom of God, and unlike the kingdom it passes away, leading its possessor down to death with it. I’m reminded of “Dying Star” by Jason Upton, when he sings the words of God to the church:
“If the whole wide world is staring straight at you,
They can’t see Me.
“Rise, rise, rise,
Live out your fantasy;
Think that you’re better than Me;
Rise, rise, rise;
Live out your manmade religiosity;
Rise, rise, rise;
Live out your strategies;
Rise, rise, rise, so the world can see,
Rise, rise, rise, so the world can see,
So the world can see
Just another dying star.”
Better trash our idols if we’re gonna be
In the army of the Lord.
The greatest idol is you and me;
We better get on the threshing floor.
When will we learn that God’s strategy is giving glory to the Lord?
So we trash our idols, ’cause we wanna be in the army of the Lord.
…
There’s no room for idolatry,
There’s no room for man-pleasing
In the army of the Lord.
To put it briefly, the Spirit woke me up yesterday. I will not let my identity rest within my own glorification. I will not plan for my future, work in the present, or meditate on the past with my own personal glory as the focus. I will remain committed to excellence, but to the only true excellence, which is from above.
Drip down, O heavens, from above,I will worship the Lord in spirit and in truth, with fullness in intention, thought, attention, and effort. I will find myself in the fullness of God. I will lose everything I am to gain one thing, the presence of the Lord, and everything that He is. I will trash my idols, because I want to be in the army of the Lord.
And let the clouds pour down righteousness. (Isaiah 45:8 NASB)
3 comments:
Our pastors are in the middle of a series on marriage. They are fond of reminding us that real love is an act of the will. I think that statement applies to all areas of life, not just to marriage- as in loving God, our neighbor, etc. To me, actively setting aside personal idols is an act of the will that is a demonstration of our love for God. NJTS
A good contrast to the statement by Abrahams is the one by Liddell in the movie: "God made me fast, and when I run, I feel his pleasure." That is worship. Being what God created us to be, for his glory.
Amen, Perry!
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