Strange Fire Intro

Back in October of 2013, my Facebook news feed started displaying posts and re-posts an open letter to John MacArthur which was inviting him to repent on the eve of his upcoming conference: Strange Fire.  I read them with curiosity, wondering what could possibly be triggering this freak-out from so many of my "friends." (Hey, this is Facebook we're talking about.  Let's not abuse the word "friend" any more than we must).  The open letter, from a pastor named Michael Brown, (I think he's supposed to be well-known.  I had never heard of him.) informed me that John MacArthur was about to host a conference at his church that was going to slam charismatic Christians and tell them that they were not even saved.  

(Ding-ding!) I was in.  That sounded way too interesting and fun to pass up.  I was only familiar with John MacArthur as the author of Charismatic Chaos back in my teenage and early charismania days, and even back then, I found his book interesting.  I don't get nervous or offended by stuff like that.  Why would I?  Anyone can say whatever they want; I choose how I am going to respond.

That being said, the responses my charismatic "friends" on Facebook were generating were in agreement with Brown.  "Pre-repent MacArthur!  You are about to sin!"  Without a word being spoken or the accompanying book of the same name even being released, charismatics were freaking out.  (Brown had an advance copy of the book and posted some zingers of one-liners from the book, but to be fair, he took many of the one-liners out of context).

I was unable to follow the conference in progress, but I checked the news throughout the weekend, and both sides were joining the smackdown.  Quotes from the conference were being tweeted and posted, and charismatics would get defensive and bring out the battle-axes against MacArthur and his cohorts.  It was so interesting to watch.  I could not understand why so many charismatics were freaking out so much.  Nobody can say anything that can put your salvation in jeopardy.  I couldn't understand why those opposed to MacArthur couldn't just ignore him and be happy.  I even had real friends who joined in the fray.  Here is one thing that they all had in common: no one was actually listening to the conference or reading the book.  Touchy, anyone?

Fast-forward a few days, and I was ready to sink my teeth into this feast.  I try to be fair and to not have uninformed opinions, so I didn't say anything about the conference's supposed content.  I did, however, comment on how much everyone was freaking out.  Strange Fire had an app, and I downloaded it.  Talk about cool!  I could listen to it whenever I wanted, and it would save my place in any given message, and it was easy-to-use and well-organized.  I listened to the whole thing.  I bought the book, even after being discouraged from doing so, because I shouldn't support John MacArthur's heresy with my money.  (Not even kidding).  #charismaticfreakout  

I listened to the whole conference.  I was stunned.  I have been thinking a lot.  I have been in the charismatic church for 15 years.  I am a continuationist (got that word from the conference!).  I believe that God talks to me.  I also agreed with about 90-95% of what the conference and book have said.  How is that even possible?  It is possible, because 90-95% of what the charismatic church attributes to the Holy Spirit is, in my opinion, actually false.  For years I have been growing in dissatisfaction and skepticism with practices and teachings in the charismatic movement.  Practice of spiritual gifts has become one of my least-favorite things to ever do, ever.  Worship in a charismatic church has become one of my least-favorite things to do, ever.  Preaching (not sure if all preaching or just the charismatic kind) has become torture.  Church has become torture.  Maybe some of the pieces are coming together, and maybe I can start making sense of some of my recent journey.  That is what I hope to do with these writings.

Letting Go

Discipling is an interesting business.  It is a risky business.  It is difficult to know what exactly my role is sometimes.  I have some wisdom.  I can be awfully right at times.  I can be awfully wrong too, but I think I try to keep with simple wisdom that is not too controversial.  Like, if you follow this advice, and it ends up not having been ideal, you're no worse off for having followed it. 

I don't think Jesus ever flat-out told someone how to live their life, or if He did, I'm not sure He stalked the recipient to make sure His advice was followed.  He seemed to be pretty chill about His followers, like, maybe He knew it would all be okay in the end.  Maybe He knew that if His advice was disregarded, it would still result in a good learning experience.  You've gotta know that Peter went His own way enough times.  He certainly seemed like a stubborn know-it-all.  And before Jesus went back to heaven, he told Peter that when he was old, He would be led where He didn't want to go.  Maybe it was a rib at Capt. Stubborn-pants.  Or maybe Jesus was saying something like: "Between now and your death, you'll get away with a lot of junk that you want to do, but when it's time to go, you're going My way." 

Don't get me wrong: Jesus certainly told people how to live, but His advice came with a lot of freedom to make a variety of choices along the way.  It wasn't like: "Hey - don't date her." "Hey- you have to be an engineer."  It was more like: "Love people, and do good to others."  "Put Me first."  We trip-out often over the notion that there is one plan for our lives and if we miss it, we missed it.  And made God mad.  Or disappointed Him.  I don't think that is how God is. 

The issue is: how do I get myself to be like God?  How do I relax in His sovereignty?  How do I keep from freaking-out or feeling rejected when my (100%) godly advice is ignored?  I guess I need rest.  My flaw (one of them) is control.  I like helping people.  I like being right.  Bad combo.  People are not pieces on a chess board or ingredients in a spinach alfredo lasagna.  Everything is not formulaic.  I need rest.  I need to rest in the Holy Spirit's ability to lead people into God's best.  I need to let the Holy Spirit lead ME into God's best.  I need to laugh and know God really is God. 

Hey God - if you need any help, I'm here... or maybe

Hey God - have a good time with that.  I'll be over here. 

Self-(dis)Service

In all of my people-watchings, I have observed at least five kinds of people who use self-checkout machines at grocery stores:

1. The Absolute Worst - this is the person, usually a woman, who buys more groceries in one trip than I do in a month or two. She may or may not have hyper children slowing down time itself and ruining life in general. Her cart will generally have obscene amounts of produce which require about a minute each to look up and weigh. She has a haughty, I-can-handle-this-better-than-any-cashier look and obviously knows that there are multitudes in line behind her but refuses to look at them. Her children will occasionally bring her gum or a toy, and she will go put it back, tell them off or just set it on top of the register. If you see her in front of you, go wait in another line, or grab your phone or a magazine to keep you busy.

2. The Technologically-Challenged - This one you can't help but feel sorry for. It will generally be a man over 50. If he's over 70, you might as well go to another store. He will have two or three items and read every word on the screen before making any movements. He will always select his language before starting to scan. Then ensues the hunt for the bar-code. Studying his items thoroughly, he will eventually locate it and slowly and shakily hold it over the scanner. If it does not scan, the light above the register starts blinking red and time stops. If he accidentally gets it right, there is a long pause before setting down in the bagging area. He also may or may not remove said item from the bagging area before he has paid. Then comes the dreaded time of payment. You know what I mean, so I will not go into much detail, but I pity the man who does not have a savings card, because that machine pretty much beats you down without it.

3. The Comical Desperado - This can be either man or woman. The man usually walks right up, scans a 24-pack of beer and sets off the light to get a clerk to ID him. Half the time he seems to have a cart with a kid in the front and the beer in the back. A woman usually has 2-3 bottles of wine, and one of them always seems to be jumbo-sized. This method often works quickly if there is an attendant. I just find it funny.

4. The Cash Customer - Usually a 40-year-old male who buys two things that cost $13.41 and pays for it with 14 one-dollar bills and a penny. Even if all the bills go in the first time, it takes a long time, and the coin slot NEVER works.

5. People Like (you and) Me - Young, intelligent multitaskers who take no time and get on no one's nerves. These lines were designed for us. We study the failures in front of us and make sure we don't repeat their mistakes so that we don't incur the hatred that we felt towards the life-ruiners who preceded us. I scrape the frost off of the bar-code on my Blue Bell before I even get there. I have studied my products and know where each bar code is. I scan my savings card first and run the screen and the credit card machine at the same time. Lettuce, ice cream, light bulbs and raw meat all go in the same bag. In and out. Gone in the blink of an eye. Perfection.

Okay, so occasionally I fail, but more often than not, the dang machine just won't scan my stuff. And blast that weight sensor! I was just making room for another bag. Oh yeah, and who knew Sharpies were now considered alcohol and required ID?