Joshua 19:1-20:9; Luke 19:28-48; Psalm 88:1-18; Proverbs 13:12-14
“The third allotment of land went to the clans of the tribe of Zebulun. The boundary of Zebulun’s homeland started at Sarid. From there it went west, going past Maralah, touching Dabbesheth, and proceeding to the brook east of Jokneam....”
“Then Jesus entered the Temple and began to drive out the people selling animals for sacrifices. He said to them, ‘The Scriptures declare, ‘My Temple will be a house of prayer,’ but you have turned it into a den of thieves.’”
Boundaries are not my favorite things. I claim they stifle creativity. I know they restrict my thoughts and actions. There’s no getting around the fact that they limit what can be accomplished or achieved. Boundaries are for people who cannot handle unrestricted freedom, who cannot be trusted to behave themselves, respect others and just “do right.” They are for those who will not follow Christ or the direction of the Spirit. They are for people just like me, and they have prevented great problems and heartache on times too numerous to count. Nevertheless, I rebel against boundaries almost every time I am confronted by one. When I do, I usually just become the exception that proves the rule. I learn, once again, at my own expense. God no doubt shakes His mighty head in wonder at how one of His own can remain so stubborn.
What is it about human nature that wants to apply the rules to everyone but ourselves? How can we honestly look in the mirror and even begin to believe we are so trustworthy? On a personal level, I know the truth; I cannot be trusted, not within myself. Give me an inch, and I’ll take a mile. There is no self-delusion on that score. There is only flat-out rebellion, a prideful desire to prove to myself, others and God that I can successfully live “outside the lines.” Put another way, I like to play God. But I am singularly unqualified. Every time I try, disaster looms.
One quick, easy example will make the point. I began this blog because I finally woke up one day and had to admit to myself I was utterly lost. Not damned, just lost. Inspiration has always been a big part of my lifeblood. I know the kind of spiritual discipline and priority inspiration requires – the field of my soul requires constant tilling to remain fertile, to stretch a metaphor. Yet, I had let myself get lazy. Probably for years, I ran on little more than grace, memory and spiritual momentum and was not diligent about prayer or Bible reading. I showed up at church to teach Sunday School always ready with the “right” theology, but when it came to matters of the heart, I usually relied on personal emotion and feeling instead of the Spirit. I didn’t feel the need to adhere to God’s guidelines for growth. Let me give myself one break: none of this was intentional and little of it was even conscious. It was just the path of least resistance, and I thought I was getting away with it. In any event, though, when I finally saw the truth, it was devastating. For months, I was truly a spiritual shell. It took confession, forgiveness and getting back to the Bible, prayer and the accountability of Christian fellowship and mission to once more find the inspiration I craved. I am a lot more busy now, and it’s plainly not convenient. There are times I get really exhausted, in fact. But that’s the best tired of all, because that’s when the Holy Spirit really takes over! (I just thank God I have a really secure and understanding wife!!!)
The almost primal instinct to paint outside the lines of a disciplined life may be the other side of Pharisitism; call it anti-Pharisitism. On one hand is perfectionism, a slavish adherence to every recognized rule and regulation known to man, with maybe a few extra thrown in besides, just for clarity and to insure we maintain our assumed superiority to everyone else. But on the other side are those who simply live by a different code altogether. These folks make their own rules, the main one being there ain’t no rules. Anti-Pharisees can become agents of chaos and spiritual anarchists if they are not careful. I know. Some of my favorite verses also come from Romans where Paul decries the Law. I love to claim, as does Paul, to follow the higher and better law of the Spirit. However, for me and others of similar mind, too often, the “S” is not capitalized. Translation? We end up doing what we feel like, not the work or Will of God.
Let us be clear today. “Freestyle” living has little to do with the Spirit, God or the life Christ died to give us. It is no more than the egotistical presumption that we know better than Jesus how our lives should work, ofttimes accompanied by a callous disregard for the needs and rights of others. It is exceptionally seductive and usually subtle until we go crashing out of bounds and become lost in the wilderness. But that’s never a pleasant place to be. There’s plenty of adventure inside a slalom run. God really does know the best way through the course.
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