It’s interesting how when we are exploring a particular aspect of the Christian life, God places resources into our hands at just the right moment. You will realise from my last post that I have been challenged to seek a greater awareness of God’s Presence, both personally and at church. A few weeks ago I came across a book in a second-hand shop which I felt I should buy – The Healing Presence by Leanne Payne (Kingsway) – and it has proved to be quite a stimulus to my thinking.
I don’t know much about Leanne Payne in fact, but I associate her with what is called ‘Listening Prayer’, a particular approach to the healing ministry which is built around being sensitive to what God is saying and doing when we pray for people. That sounds like a wise strategy to me. However, the focus of this particular book is on practising the Presence for our selves, and ministering to others out of a belief that the Presence is with us.
She draws out attention to what she describes as the oldest liturgical prayer of them all, and the most powerful of all prayers: the prayer of invocation, ‘Come, Lord Jesus’ (1Corinthians 16:22, Revelation 22:20b). Perhaps the first believers would have shouted this prayer aloud, with great fervour, and in the expectation that the Risen Lord would indeed come and stand among them. Probably the communion meal would have been the context, and the moment recognised when the gifts of the Spirit began to be exercised, and healing took place. She writes, “Where the Presence of the Lord is truly invoked, there is little difficulty in believing on Him or moving in the spiritual power and authority He brings.”
I’m aware that ‘Come Lord Jesus’ can be nothing more than an empty mantra, but what if we were to pray that simple prayer until it became reality? What if we were to pause at the start of every meeting and wait for the Presence? Payne is careful to point out that it is the actual Presence, not the sensation of the Presence, that we are to seek, although of course the sense of God’s Presence is an added and welcome bonus. But it is significant, I think that we read about Jesus: ‘And the power of the Lord was present for him to heal the sick.’ (Luke 5:17)
The original tragedy of sin was that it cut us off from the Presence, causing us to become self-conscious rather than God-conscious. Salvation brings us back to the place where we can become God-conscious again, that is, living with the awareness of the Presence. Through the cross we are brought back into fellowship with God and to the enjoyment of his Presence. Congregations lose their anointing primarily through disunity – either internally among themselves, or externally in breaking fellowship with the wider body of Christ.
A growing awareness of God’s Presence then becomes the goal of the Christian life. “We learn to practice the Presence of Jesus within (our bodies are temples of his Holy Spirit, without (He walks alongside us as Companion and Brother), and all around (He is high and lifted up, and we exalt Him as Sovereign God). And we ask Him to love the world through us. We learn to collaborate with Him.”
Why not join me in seeking to become more aware of the Presence of God?
Wednesday 23 February 2011
Monday 14 February 2011
Face down
In recent weeks our attention has been drawn in church to Acts 2:42-47, the beautiful description of life in the early Christian community to which we all aspire. It is a very familiar piece, and well-worn ground as far as I am concerned, but this time as I read it a phrase leapt out at me that I had glossed over previously: ‘everyone was filled with awe’ (v43). I can’t say I’ve ever heard anyone (including myself) draw attention to this aspect of the early church, but being ‘awe-struck’ seems to have been a key ingredient in their life together.
‘Awe’ is a difficult word to define, and an emotion not easily described. The literal translation of this phrase is ‘and came to every soul fear’. Fear is the Greek word ‘phobos’ (from which we get phobia etc), and what we are talking about here is ‘reverential fear’, the respectful admiration and humble acknowledgement that comes when we are in the presence of something (or Someone) so much greater than ourselves. The experience takes our breath away (think of the Grand Canyon or similar), leaves us speechless, and makes us fall to the ground in wonder and amazement.
Now, does that often happen in your church? It doesn’t in ours. Generally speaking, Christians today have become over familiar with God, and we have lost this sense of the awesomeness of God. We have a tame, manageable deity who is predictable and can be controlled. But the backdrop to the New Testament church was a deep sense of humility in the presence of God. This was the context for the miraculous and the release of the Spirit’s power that we so long to see. I wonder if we can have the second without the first?
As I pondered this I began reading the book of Ezekiel. (As my part in the Bible reading initiatives marking the 400th anniversary of the KJV, I am reading parts of Scripture I often overlook.) There’s a lot even in the first chapter that leaves me mystified, but at the end of the chapter I came to this verse: ‘This was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord. When I saw it, I fell face down, and I heard the voice of one speaking.’ (Ezekiel 1:28).
Now here’s an experience of ‘awe’. Ezekiel is aware of the presence of God, and its effect on him is to bring him to his knees in reverent submission. The ‘glory’ of the Lord is the manifestation of his presence. That which is normally hidden becomes visible. For a moment the One who dwells in unapproachable light allows himself to be glimpsed, and it is an awe-inspiring moment.
We may be used to people being ‘slain’ in the Spirit, falling backwards ‘under the power’, but this seems to be something quite different to me because Ezekiel falls the other way – face down. He is prostrated before the Lord with his face in the dust. It is a position of deep humility, of surrender and submission, of yieldedness. The word ‘humility’ is derived from the Latin ‘humus’ which means ‘of the earth’. In the presence of God the priest is overwhelmed and truly humbled. He remembers that he is dust, created, finite, limited, human. There are no words suitable for such an encounter, only silence; no spiritual antics drawing attention to the person, only an instinctive giving way to the glory of God.
Personally, this is the kind of encounter that I long for. It frightens me, yes, but it seems to me to be far more authentic, and much more life-changing, than much of what passes for charismatic or Pentecostal fervour. To be honest, that often leaves me cold and embarrassed, because it appears to be man’s attempt to make something happen. When God comes by we don’t need to work anything up, and no-one steals his limelight. Everyone of us will be filled with awe, and no doubt on our knees like Ezekiel of old.
I think if this was the backdrop to our lives fruitful evangelism and supernatural happenings would become a matter of course. If we know personally what it is to fear God, we won’t be so easily intimidated by mere human beings; and if we have experienced his power individually, and together, our faith level is sure to rise.
As I pondered these words my thoughts settled on a great song by Matt Redman called ‘Facedown’. I have listened to it many times since as I seek a greater sense of the awesomeness of God. You can easily find it on You Tube. Why not take a moment to listen to it, in worshipful silence, as you too humble yourself before the mighty hand of God (1Peter 5:6).
‘Awe’ is a difficult word to define, and an emotion not easily described. The literal translation of this phrase is ‘and came to every soul fear’. Fear is the Greek word ‘phobos’ (from which we get phobia etc), and what we are talking about here is ‘reverential fear’, the respectful admiration and humble acknowledgement that comes when we are in the presence of something (or Someone) so much greater than ourselves. The experience takes our breath away (think of the Grand Canyon or similar), leaves us speechless, and makes us fall to the ground in wonder and amazement.
Now, does that often happen in your church? It doesn’t in ours. Generally speaking, Christians today have become over familiar with God, and we have lost this sense of the awesomeness of God. We have a tame, manageable deity who is predictable and can be controlled. But the backdrop to the New Testament church was a deep sense of humility in the presence of God. This was the context for the miraculous and the release of the Spirit’s power that we so long to see. I wonder if we can have the second without the first?
As I pondered this I began reading the book of Ezekiel. (As my part in the Bible reading initiatives marking the 400th anniversary of the KJV, I am reading parts of Scripture I often overlook.) There’s a lot even in the first chapter that leaves me mystified, but at the end of the chapter I came to this verse: ‘This was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord. When I saw it, I fell face down, and I heard the voice of one speaking.’ (Ezekiel 1:28).
Now here’s an experience of ‘awe’. Ezekiel is aware of the presence of God, and its effect on him is to bring him to his knees in reverent submission. The ‘glory’ of the Lord is the manifestation of his presence. That which is normally hidden becomes visible. For a moment the One who dwells in unapproachable light allows himself to be glimpsed, and it is an awe-inspiring moment.
We may be used to people being ‘slain’ in the Spirit, falling backwards ‘under the power’, but this seems to be something quite different to me because Ezekiel falls the other way – face down. He is prostrated before the Lord with his face in the dust. It is a position of deep humility, of surrender and submission, of yieldedness. The word ‘humility’ is derived from the Latin ‘humus’ which means ‘of the earth’. In the presence of God the priest is overwhelmed and truly humbled. He remembers that he is dust, created, finite, limited, human. There are no words suitable for such an encounter, only silence; no spiritual antics drawing attention to the person, only an instinctive giving way to the glory of God.
Personally, this is the kind of encounter that I long for. It frightens me, yes, but it seems to me to be far more authentic, and much more life-changing, than much of what passes for charismatic or Pentecostal fervour. To be honest, that often leaves me cold and embarrassed, because it appears to be man’s attempt to make something happen. When God comes by we don’t need to work anything up, and no-one steals his limelight. Everyone of us will be filled with awe, and no doubt on our knees like Ezekiel of old.
I think if this was the backdrop to our lives fruitful evangelism and supernatural happenings would become a matter of course. If we know personally what it is to fear God, we won’t be so easily intimidated by mere human beings; and if we have experienced his power individually, and together, our faith level is sure to rise.
As I pondered these words my thoughts settled on a great song by Matt Redman called ‘Facedown’. I have listened to it many times since as I seek a greater sense of the awesomeness of God. You can easily find it on You Tube. Why not take a moment to listen to it, in worshipful silence, as you too humble yourself before the mighty hand of God (1Peter 5:6).
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