Strangely, but inevitably, at this time of the year, I think of things I want God to change in my life, destroy in my life and deepen in my life.
I yearn for many things. But I fear that they are not always the right things and even when they are, the yearning is more like an itch than an ache.
Thanks mainly to John Piper’s book, Desiring God, I have had C S Lewis’ words lovingly, quietly, but relentlessly, teasing me for most of the last 30 years:
We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea.
What are the yearnings, by God’s grace, that I should yearn for, yearn for more deeply, yearn for more madly, yearn for more truly?
To be more like Jesus
At one level, the articulation of this yearning sounds pretentious. To be more like Jesus sounds like I am well on the way with just a little further improvement. Who would I be kidding? I am so unlike Jesus that the yearning is really to be something like Jesus, anything like Jesus, a faint echo of Jesus!
I’m sick of my sinfulness, my selfishness and my shallow satisfactions.
This is not theological correctness. It is a cry from the heart. The grace of sanctification is so slow, in my case.
Only two days ago I spoke to another person in a way that caused me deep shame. I wanted to amend the situation but the opportunity passed as quickly as it presented. (In case you’re wondering, it was a variation of road rage, where no person was injured, no metal was scratched and neither party thought that they were in the wrong!)
The moment came and went so quickly, the tempers flared so sharply and the conviction descended so deeply and settled so powerfully.
I could only cry out with the proverbial, parabolic tax collector, “God, have mercy on me, a sinner (Luke 18:13).” And with the Apostle Paul, “Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death (Romans 7:24)?”
The words followed in swift pursuit, as surely as 2014 followed 2013, “Thanks be to God - through Jesus Christ our Lord (Romans 7:25).”
To see an end to suffering
Is it because of the professional space I now inhabit? Possibly. Is it that I am a little older and a little wiser? Hopefully. Is it because I have begun to feel, in small ways but increasing ways, that life is about loss? Perhaps.
For me, suffering is more about,
A niggle here, a naggle there,
a little dull ache almost everywhere.
But for others, it’s about hunger, thirst and water that will kill as surely as it will quench. It’s about addiction and deception and watching children make choices about their bodies and minds that will result in life-long physical and mental health issues. It’s about children who are born into families who can’t afford to feed them, so force-feed them into sexual servitude to feed their own gambling and alcohol addictions. Or they dispose of the unwanted burden - even in my own supposedly sophisticated society, where they are more of an inconvenience than a burden!
How I yearn to see an end to this suffering. But how real is that yearning if I indulge in a lifestyle that perpetuates obscene inequalities, if I pursue a weekly timetable that has no voluntary time for the sick and sorrowful, if I invest in companies that exploit the world’s poor, or the weaknesses and vulnerabilities of others even in my own society?
Yes, I yearn for the Apostle John’s vision of a new heaven and a new earth where every grief-borne tear will be wiped away, where there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain (Revelation 21:4). Quickly my heart responds to the promise of Jesus that he is coming soon with, “Amen, come Lord Jesus (Revelation 22:20).”
Which begs the question of the ultimate yearning.
To love the lost
How deep is this yearning? For me? For you?
If the living God, who is not slow about his promise to bring this sin-sick, suffering and sorrowful world to judgement, as some consider slowness, but is patient, not wanting anyone to perish but everyone to come to repentance (2 Peter 3:9), how strong is my sincerity for people to be rescued from the punishment we all deserve? How enduring is my empathy for people to be rescued by the punishment Christ has endured for his own? How deep is my desire for people to be rescued for a life of good works and an eternity of joyfully serving the Lord of the universe?
As Paul reflected on the eternal welfare of his kin and countrymen he cried, “My heart’s desire and prayer for them is that they may be saved (Romans 10:1).”
To one of these high ranking fellow countrymen he claimed, “Short time or long, I (pray God) that not only you, but all who are listening to me today may become what I am except for these chains (Acts 26:29).”
I was doing my usual end of year study purge the other day and picked up, hidden behind other books because of its size, J H Jowett’s little masterpiece, The Passion For Souls. It is a disturbing, convicting, energising and invigorating read. He speaks of the vision and power of the Gospel:
Tongues that speak nothing but malice are to be turned into instruments of wisdom. Passions that are working havoc and ruin are to be made nourishers of fine endeavour and holy work.
It felt infectious. I pray for it to be so.
But, of course, it is Jesus who had a passion for souls, a love for the lost and a hunger to do God’s will and accomplish his saving purposes:
When (Jesus) saw the crowds he had compassion on them for they were harassed and helpless like sheep without a shepherd (Matthew 9:36).
For the Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost (Luke 19:10).
My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work (John 4:34).
May ours be a yearning, a hunger, a passion, to joyfully announce that finished work.
