I love to teach the Bible. As I’ve found my own rhythm in this, I’ve discovered that I’m a connector of dots. It’s not just the way I unpack a specific verse, but rather the way I connect that to other stories, places, characters and themes from other parts of the Bible, connecting Genesis to the Gospels, connecting Paul to his Jewish roots, connecting the text to the cultural setting, connecting a detailed nuance of a verse to the overarching narrative of redemption, etc. People often comment about those connections, and some ask about my study process because they want to learn to mine for those nuggets themselves, which I LOVE!

When I explain my strategy, many are surprised. Most of the nuggets don’t come from word studies or passage studies. The primary practice that eventually leads to these discoveries is not in studying the Bible, but rather in reading it. I’m not talking about your chapter a day, or your through the Bible in a year reading. I’m talking about taking in large chunks of scripture in compressed time frames. The gospels in a week. The gospels each week for a month. Romans every day for a week. The whole letter. The Pentateuch twice in a month.

It is this kind of reading strategy, or audio book strategy, that gives word and passage studies the context needed to connect the dots. I have a long way to go in my own growth in this area, but, to whatever degree I have progressed, it is reading the Bible in this way that has produced that result.

Why?

I think it’s because of the way our brain works. I remember when I first started to learn to drive a stick shift. Every motion of clutch, gas,  break and gear required a deliberate process of intellect. I had to think about it before I could do it. It wasn’t second nature. It wasn’t familiar. It required my total focus. Now, years later, I can drive a stick shift without any conscious thought at all. I stop at the stop signs. I follow the speed limit signs. I rarely grind the gears or have a stutter and stall start. Years of doing it has deeply embedded the practice and process within.

Moving into our house was similar. When we first moved in it was unfamiliar. I didn’t know where everything was. I didn’t feel settled. I had to carefully think through where to find the bath tissue when out. I exercised some degree of care in negotiating the stairs in the dark. I had to remind myself where the light switches were. Now, after years living here, I no longer have to think about any of this. I just know it. This kind of knowing is below the surface of “thinking about” anything; it’s just an assumed reality.

My experience with scripture has taught me a similar lesson. Years of inhabiting the Bible has built within me, under the conscious surface, a familiar awareness of the whole. Rather than a book I read, it has become like a house I live in; instead of seeing in the moment only the detail of the text in front of me, I see beyond the text to the context of the whole story arch. I don’t try to do this. It just happens.

Wear out a Bible. Get a good audio Bible and put it on repeat. Take the next ten years of your life and immerse yourself in the 30,000 foot view of redemptive history. Only this will give context to the detailed word, passage and even book studies that will also be an essential component of your development.

Read the Bible.

This is, in a very real sense, true.

But then there’s the Bible. The New Testament places the local church front and center in God’s New Creation strategy.

The Bible has lots of things to say about church. Yes, it says much about The Church—that universal expression, the Body of Christ, the Bride. This is the Church global, beyond time and place. This is the BIG THING we’re part of as individual believers. This is the thing we are no matter where we are.

Yes the Bible demonstrates much about Church as a missional, culture engaging and transforming  agency of the kingdom.

But this is not all.

The Bible also has much to say about the local church; and it assumes much. The church is locatable. You can write letters to a local church. You can ask that the letter written to your local church also be read at the other local church nearby. Churches can be visited. Churches gather together on a regular basis where they worship, build each other up, participate in sacraments, and receive teaching.

A local church has a defined leadership structure. Apostolic oversight is assumed and authoritative. The saints are being equipped by apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors and teachers. Elders are appointed to lead and govern. Saints are instructed to follow and honor leaders. Offerings are taken. Deacons are appointed. Contributions must be stewarded. This requires budgeting, stewardship and organization—structure.

Discipline is needed. A non-repentant backslider can be put out of the local church.

A local church is a lampstand. And Jesus walks among the lampstands, distinguishing one from the other, with a unique message for each. The messenger providing leadership is a star in Jesus’ hand.

If you’ve been hearing people teach that  “we don’t go to church; we are the church,” please don’t allow this truth about church to blind you to every other truth about church.  I’m sure your church isn’t perfect. I’m sure there are lots of ways it could be more effective and efficient. But the local church is God’s plan A. He doesn’t have a plan B.  To reject the local church in the name of kingdom mindedness is to abandon kingdom mindedness.

Whether you go to a huge mega-church, a Catholic or Orthodox church, a small neighborhood church, a smaller house church—if you gather regularly with a community of believers to worship, participate in the sacraments, and devote yourself to the apostles teaching and to prayer; if you give there, serve there and love there—then you’re part of God’s plan called “church.” If you’re feeling a pull to “be the church” outside of that gathering, in the sense of being a kingdom influence in the culture, do it! But it’s not necessary to forsake the gathering to do that. In fact, I think it’s essential that you don’t.

Several months ago I realized that I’m not good at vulnerability. For those who know me best, this probably wasn’t a shock. I’m the guy others are vulnerable with. But I’m always fine. Even when I say “I’m great,” what I mean is “I’m fine.” Since we were all designed to live deeply connected to others, my lack of vulnerability represents a break from who I truly am. The walls I’ve built to protect my heart aren’t supposed to be there. But I wonder what’s behind them?

At first, I suspected there might be a tremendous amount of pain behind my defenses. As I lowered them, I anticipated waves of dramatic emotion, surges of long avoided pain or a flood of locked up grief. Though I have experienced a bit of those things, “dramatic” isn’t exactly an appropriate word to describe the bits and pieces of pain that have surfaced.

No. My invulnerability, at least so far, doesn’t appear to have been a strategy to hide un-dealt-with pain. My walls have instead served to protect me from my fear. Apparently, I greatly fear trusting male authority with my plans, dreams and destiny. Behind the walls I am a step-son, convinced that I’m on my own, that I must manage on my own, handle things on my own, make it happen on my own.

For me, my path of learning vulnerability involves taking risks. I’m sharing the things that are stirring in me about my tomorrows with those who have the power to refuse to help me, to not be there, to not believe in me. So far they have each surprised me. Not a step-dad in the bunch. Go figure.

1. Our core beliefs must change or nothing will change. The first reason attempted change doesn’t last is that we tend to focus on changing our behavior or environment. There’s nothing necessarily wrong with new diets, jobs, locations, schedules, exercise programs, friends, etc. But we must understand that changing these things will not produce lasting change. Our behaviors and environments are ultimately reflections of our core beliefs. Unless our fundamental assumptions about reality change, transformation will never be sustained.

2. Beliefs are different than thoughts. When we think about changing our beliefs, we must distinguish this from changing our thoughts. Our thoughts are actually behaviors. Changing our thoughts is simply another approach to changing behavior. For example:  you can have correct thoughts, accurately informed by scripture and sincerely affirmed by your will, about God’s love for you, while at the same time truly believing that you are disqualified from God’s love because of your past failures. Reading a book, attending a class, or any other method of gathering new information or correcting bad information will not affect your core beliefs. Our beliefs and thoughts are different. Our beliefs are the filter through which our thoughts are interpreted and applied. Our beliefs exist at a heart level. They’re not merely cognitive. Our beliefs determine the boundaries around what is and isn’t possible in our lives. Our thoughts are generally easy to verbalize. We rarely put words to what we truly believe.

3. Beliefs are shaped by experience. We believe what we believe because of what we’ve experienced. That’s why you can’t learn your way into new beliefs. Beliefs are not formed by information and they cannot be reformed by education. If we are to experience lasting change, then our core beliefs must be identified and changed. Such beliefs can only be changed through experience.

4. When beliefs change they are either moving toward or away from identity. We are created in God’s image. This means that who we really are is linked to who God is. The key categories of belief, therefore, involve what we believe about God and what we believe about self. Is God good? Is he near, do I have access to his presence? Is he powerful? Do I have value? Where does my value come from? Is my value intrinsic or extrinsic? Again, correct theological answers to these kinds of questions are not what we’re aiming at. What do I fundamentally assume to be true about reality? As my core beliefs change, they are either moving towards or away from what is actually true regarding who God is and who I am in his image. So, my target must involve shifting my core beliefs toward increasing alignment with identity in these key categories.

5. Only experiencing God’s presence and voice can produce lasting change. What kind of experience can effectively shift my core beliefs about God and myself toward increasing alignment with identity? I need to experience God’s goodness, his nearness, and his power. I need to experience his love. I must discover my value within the context of experiential relationship with him.

If you’re considering a New Years Resolution or two, I applaud you. If you’ve committed to a new Bible reading plan, joined a gym, or started a new nutrition regimen, I think that’s wonderful. But if you want these efforts to produce lasting change, there is a deeper context within which they must be engaged. If you’d like to understand more about how to pursue the lasting transformation that results from hearing God’s voice and experiencing God’s presence, then I recommend my book Unveiled, The Transforming Power of God’s Presence and Voice. It’s available in print or audiobook format here.

Praying for God’s rich mercy and amazing grace to saturate every aspect of your new year. Blessings!

But God did promise to rescue them. One day he would come and restore his people, rescuing them from Roman governance, removing corruption within the priesthood, cleansing the Temple and rewarding the faithful, both living and dead. The kingdom of heaven will come. The dead will rise. The Son of Man will come. The Son of David will be enthroned. Messiah. The Anointed One.

And then he came. Without fanfare? No. A small group of shepherds were treated to an unparalleled heavenly display of glorious announcement. A humble unmarried teenager gave birth to Messiah in a barn.

God’s way of winning is to become small. His path to victory was to lower himself. His answer to the pride of our self-exaltation was to lower himself beyond our capacity to imagine. His birth points us forward to his ultimate self denial and his ultimate victory.

He came to rescue us. Not from Rome,  but from our independence, from our greatness, from our opinions and our pride, from our self-worship, from the deadness inside our souls. How might we appropriately respond to such divine action? We respond best to such grace by needing it. We admit our blindness, our nakedness, our emptiness; we set aside the illusions of sufficiency we’ve constructed all these years. We become those in need of rescue, for that is what we are. And we let God come as an infant to lead us home.

Merry Christmas.

At home, whatever it was that my step-dad was looking for in a son, it was consistently clear that I didn’t measure up. I didn’t like to build things. I avoided the garage. We never connected.

As an adolescent, I was never the one girls had a crush on. I had some amazing friends, but they were always the hero and I was the side-kick.

I’ve been told that for a guy, shame is all about the fear of being perceived as weak. I remember feeling very weak as a kid and as a young man. It’s still there, but I’ve learned to hide it from others, and from me. I’ve learned to cope. I’ve found some things I am good at and I stick very close to that area of competence. I’ve learned to keep a safe distance relationally to ensure others don’t have a chance to discover my weakness. I’ve learned to be a safe place for others to display their weakness while rarely displaying my own. This gives an illusion of connection without risk for me.

I’m afraid of being perceived as weak.

I’ve learned to not be vulnerable.

But I’m learning something new in this season.

Scripture, and the Psalms in particular, are filled with the idea that we can and should bless God. Our lives should be a blessing to Him. He should somehow benefit from the way we relate to and respond to Him. But how?

Do you have that person in your family that’s just impossible to buy a gift for. They have everything they need. They have the resources to get anything they want. God is like that times infinity. He is completely self sufficient. He doesn’t need anything. We are not His source of anything at any level.

How then can we bless Him?

As you read the Bible, especially the Psalms and the Prophets, you will notice a poetic and linguistic tendency to say the same thing twice, but using different language each time. In this kind of couplet, each way of stating the same essential truth provides explanation for the other way of stating that same truth.

In the first statement, the psalmist commands his own soul to bless the Lord.

“Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name!” (Psalm 103:1, ESV)

In the second statement, the psalmist issues this same command differently.

“Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits,” (Psalm 103:2, ESV)

When is God blessed by my life? When I “forget not all his benefits.”

In the Hebrew, “forget” means to fail to remember, to ignore, to cease to care. “Benefits” refers to the way God rewards us, the way He deals with us in our lives. God is blessed by me when I live with a deep abiding awareness of God and His benefits in my life. What are those benefits?

“who forgives all your iniquity, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit, who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy, who satisfies you with good so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.” (Psalm 103:3–5, ESV)

• God is blessed when I live with a deep awareness of His grace.
• God is blessed when I live with a deep awareness of His healing touch.
• God is blessed when I live with a deep awareness of His restoration.
• God is blessed when I live with a deep awareness of His covenant faithfulness.
• God is blessed when I live with a deep awareness of His generous provision.

May our lives benefit the God who needs nothing by allowing Him to fully benefit us.

So which is it? Am I allowed to have needs in the relationship or not?

There’s a difference between need and being needy.

Needy sounds like this:

• I can’t be happy without you.
• Your love for me proves my worth.
• Your love for me proves my beauty.
• Your love for me proves my strength.
• Who I am is dependent upon how you relate to me.
• You are my source.

Honestly and vulnerably communicating the above “needs” won’t help it all. It will either drive that person away or create a very unhealthy connection. In a healthy relationship, each individual has a sense of identity sourced in God where their own sense of self finds its source, strength, stability and security in God alone. A healthy person would come to a relationship with this attitude:

• My happiness is fully contingent upon how I respond to God as my source.
• I’m bringing my worth to this relationship, not looking to this relationship to find it.
• I’m bringing my beauty to this relationship, not looking to this relationship to find it.
• I’m bringing my strength to this relationship, not looking to this relationship to find it.
• The way you relate to me cannot change my sense of identity.
• You are not my source, God is.

A person who brings this attitude to a relationship is NOT needy. But can this person feel and express need within the relationship?

Yes.

Neediness is about needing you in order for me to be okay. Powerful people come to a relationship with an awareness that they can be okay with or without the other person. But when two powerful people choose to link their lives together in relationship, a new entity comes into existence. No longer is there just me and you. Now there is also an us. I exist as an individual. You exist as an individual. And now our relationship exists as well. Relationships are either healthy or not depending on what each individual brings or fails to bring to the relationship. There’s you; there’s me; there’s the rope we’re hanging on to. I need you to hang on to your end of the rope. You need me to hang on to mine.

For our relationship to be healthy, I need you to…

For our relationship to be healthy, I need you to stop…

When you do ______, it increases anxiety for me in our relationship.

When you don’t ________, it increases anxiety for me in our relationship.

This kind of need is real and healthy. Expressing this kind of need with vulnerability and honesty within a relationship is essential for relational health. Powerful people are able to express need in this way without judgment or any need to control how the other person will respond. Powerful people recognize that when they express what they need in a relationship. the other person may prove unwilling to bring to the relationship what’s needed for health. Powerful people will then redraw boundaries to rightly define the the relationship as it’s proven to be in actuality. Powerful people know that they will be okay regardless of how the other person responds, but the health of the relationship itself, and therefore the nature of that relationship, will be contingent upon the willingness of both parties to do their part.

When a powerful person knows deep down in their knower that they will be okay regardless of how the other person responds to their need, this doesn’t in any way mean that they are impervious to hurt. Not at all. Not in any way. A powerful person risks hurt knowing they have an eternal source they can go to with pain, rejection or abandonment. They have a Comforter who will walk with them through the grief of loss. A powerful person knows they can be healed.

How are you living within the key relationships in your life? Are you needy? Or are you honestly and vulnerably expressing what you need?

“For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God.” (Romans 8:14)

Led By the Spirit

The phone rang, jarring me out of my Excel spreadsheet-induced trance.

“Alan Smith, Financial Controls. How can I help you?”

“Alan, how in the world did you see our post so quickly?”

I was working as a contractor for a large telecom company; managing statements of work in the financial controls division of their data services section. Sounds exciting, I know. I’d been there for a while and was genuinely grateful for the job and the paycheck, but I can’t say I was really enjoying it.

What I wanted to do with my time and energy was vocational ministry. I’d spent most of my twenties in ministry, but a failed church plant attempt ejected me rather harshly from that field and all efforts toward reentry had been futile. God seems very comfortable with allowing life circumstances to squeeze us uncomfortably. I was being squeezed. Big time.

One year prior, I had decided that since ministry wasn’t presently a realistic option, what I really wanted to try was sales. I wasn’t interested in just any sales position. My friend Tom owned a mid-sized company, and I really wanted to work for him. For me, it was more about an opportunity to be mentored by him than anything else. There was an opening for a regional sales manager, and I applied. I was completely unqualified for the position, as my résumé demonstrated in great detail. I had no relevant education, no relevant sales experience, and no relevant industry experience. All I had was a personal connection to Tom; that at least got me an interview with the national sales manager, who didn’t know me at all.

I wasn’t scared, though; I was quite confident, because while praying about the opportunity, I felt I had heard God tell me I was going to get the job.

Now I must pause at this point and offer some description of what it’s like for me when I hear God’s voice. Some of you may have little to no frame of reference for such things and, therefore, no way to even begin recognizing such experiences if they were ever to happen to you. I’ve been there; the point of this book is to help with exactly this sort of thing.

I experience God’s voice primarily as thoughts that enter my mind. At times they come as short words and phrases, other times as images or mental pictures, and sometimes just impressions, sort of like inward nudges.

Occasionally these experiences are unlooked for, but usually, for me, they come in response to questions I ask God. It seems like there’s something about asking God questions that positions me to hear and receive. Asking puts me in a position of humility, dependence, and expectation.

The words, phrases, images, and impressions don’t seem to come linearly or in any sort of progression. When you’re listening to a friend speak, their words come to your head through your ears one word at a time. Your brain is then able to translate this linear progression of symbols into a single thought or idea. That’s not how it seems to work between God and me; it’s actually quite the opposite. God’s words, phrases, images, and impressions sort of emerge into my consciousness fully formed. Then my brain has to unpack them into a linear sequence of words if I have any intention of writing them down or speaking them out loud to someone else. The receiving is intuitive, not analytical.

This is not without parallel in my relational experience. I’ve been married to Nancy for seventeen years and we can communicate this way. She can elbow me under the table at a dinner party when needed and through this communication, this impression comes to me fully formed; my brain has learned to immediately unpack this revelation into a linear sequence of words I can clearly understand. Quit talking, Alan. You are nearing the ‘inappropriate border’ in this story. I know it’s funny, but you need to quit while you’re ahead. She didn’t say these things, but she did communicate them with great clarity.

So, when I say I felt like God told me I was going to get the job, that’s what I mean. I asked God for the job, and I immediately got the impression He said Yes. I’m not really sure if this was just a sense my brain translated into words, or if the words themselves came along with the impression. But this is the way I’ve experienced God’s voice, and it has happened enough times that I’ve grown comfortable with the process.

Thus, I was quite confident during the interview process—a very long and tedious interview process dragging out for several months. There were one-on-one meetings. There were panel interviews. There were several other candidates. There were weeks where I heard nothing. I hate being in limbo, so I found this to be very frustrating at times.

Finally, it came down to me and one other candidate, a man with vast sales experience within this particular industry. But was I worried? Absolutely not. I had heard God. Faith comes by hearing (see Romans 10:17). It was a lock.

The call informing me they were offering the position to the other candidate came as quite a shock. I was disappointed because of the rejection, because I wouldn’t be changing jobs, wouldn’t receive an increase in compensation, wouldn’t get a chance to be mentored by Tom; but most of all, I was devastated because I had missed it. I just knew I had heard God, and clearly, I hadn’t. Of course I had missed it before (remember the failed church plant), but this one hit me especially hard.

I hunkered down and kept going to work every day wrestling spreadsheets at the telecom company.

One year later, I was at my desk in my little cubicle. My keyboard was steaming from all the great spreadsheet work I was doing. My desk was stacked with folders and documents in various stages of approval and confirmation. Emails were coming in as if from a rapid-fire machine gun. The phone was ringing. Good times, man. Good times.

All of a sudden, I had one of those moments where God’s voice bursts in unexpectedly. Without warning, the phrase Send Tom your résumé right now jumped out from around the corner and stood there inside my head with vivid clarity.

So I did. What did I have to lose, right? I already didn’t have the job. I pulled up the file from my computer, dusted it off a bit, and attached it to an email addressed to Tom and his VP of Human Resources, Linda.

Five minutes later …

The phone rang, jarring me out of my Excel spreadsheet-induced trance.

“Alan Smith, Financial Controls. How can I help you?”

“Alan, how in the world did you see our post so quickly?” It was Linda.

“What post?”

“Five minutes ago, I clicked submit on Monster, reposting the very same position you applied for last year. Not five seconds later, I received an email with your résumé. This is kind of freaking me out.”

“Me too, Linda.” Me too.

I got the job.

Is This Weird?

Is this weird? That’s a terrific question. I’m sure it seems quite weird to some of you. And by weird, I mean outside the norm. Does God still operate that way? Is it realistic for me to expect God to work in my life this way? Who gets to define the norm?

For most of us church folks, the norm has been defined by what we have or haven’t experienced up to this point. Another way of saying this is we’ve allowed our experience to define normal. What we experience determines what is normal; what we consider to be normal is authoritative, and thus our experience becomes our authority. What we have or haven’t experienced sets the bar for what we do and don’t expect from God.

Wait. I thought scripture was supposed to be the authority in my life? But for many, it isn’t. Our experiences authoritatively shape our expectations and become obstacles obstructing our ability to allow the Bible to define what is the norm. Experience defines our theology. This is a dangerous path indeed, and one well travelled in our time.

Sons of God

I began this chapter with a power-packed little verse of scripture from Paul’s letter to the Romans.

“For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God.” (Romans 8:14)

This sounds very nice. It’s short, but full of lots of great Bible words like Spirit and God and even sons of God. Romans is Paul’s doctrinal tour de force. This verse is inspired, and therefore authoritative. What if we were to dig deeper, specifically to allow this verse to define our norm?

The important category Paul is defining is sons of God. It includes everyone who believes in Jesus and is therefore quite comprehensive.

“But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.” (John 1:12)

In Romans 8:14, Paul is giving us a key characteristic, marking those who are sons of God. Namely, that they are led by the Spirit. The following verses give us some insight into this concept. The Spirit bears witness with our spirit; this means the Spirit speaks to us. What He speaks to us about is our identity as God’s children and the inheritance that goes along with that: who we are, whose we are, and what belongs to us as a result. I believe all of this is packed up within Paul’s meaning when he uses the phrase led by the Spirit.

The word led directly speaks to the idea of influence and guidance. So, what is the biblical norm for God’s children? We should expect God, by His Spirit, to influence, guide, and direct our lives in a manner that includes Him speaking to us.

However, it’s always dangerous to build a doctrine, or establish a norm, based on a single verse. So the next question for us ought to be: are there any scriptural instances of this understanding of Romans 8:14 being lived out by those in relationship with God? Does God, in the Bible, influence, guide, and direct the lives of His followers by speaking to them through His Spirit?

I would challenge you to find very many places in the Bible where this doesn’t happen. Read the Old Testament stories. Read about the life of Jesus Himself in the gospels. Read the book of Acts! This expectation, this norm, is not some marginal idea shoved into a corner—it’s a major biblical theme. God wants to talk to us. He wants to guide and direct our lives, and invites us into this kind of living day by day.

“To him the gatekeeper opens. The sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes before them, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice. A stranger they will not follow, but they will flee from him, for they do not know the voice of strangers.” (John 10:3–5)

How Important is This?

Saying yes to one thing means saying no, or at least not yet, to others. Prioritization is a fact of life. The Bible challenges us in many ways, and it is difficult to consider responding to all of them at once. Loving your neighbor, for instance, might take precedence over women praying with their heads covered in church. Both are in the Bible, and at some point both need to be taken seriously; but if you have to say yes to one of these, don’t be rude to your neighbor because you’re locked in trying to interpret Paul’s thoughts on head coverings.

Likewise, we need to consider the issue of priority when exploring what the Bible presents as a norm regarding hearing God’s voice and being led by the Spirit. How important is this? Take a look at the following verse:

“So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ.” (Romans 10:17)

How important is hearing God in the life of a believer? Let’s answer that with another question: how important is faith in the life of a believer? Let’s follow that with another question: is it even possible to become a believer without faith? Faith is what produces believers. Hearing God speak is what produces faith. So hearing God and being led by the Spirit is of the utmost priority, and its importance cannot be overstated.

Now don’t misread this verse. Romans 10:17 is not saying faith comes from reading the Bible. Reading the Bible is great, but plenty of people do that and don’t experience faith as a result. This verse is overtly stating faith comes from hearing Jesus speak to me. Of course, one of the primary ways Jesus speaks to me is through scripture, but John 5:37-40, which we looked at earlier, makes it clear it is very possible to search scripture and never hear God speak. The Bible is loaded with stories of God speaking directly to His people, by His Spirit. This is what produces faith!

Faith, rather than being something I initiate, is ultimately my response to God’s grace. He speaks and I respond with trust. He calls and I answer. In trusting Him, I draw near, and this is what pleases Him.

“And without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him.” (Hebrews 11:6)

How important is hearing God? It is clearly a biblical norm of the highest priority in the life of every believer. Any discipleship that excludes teaching people how to hear and respond to the voice of God is no discipleship at all, for without hearing God there is no faith. Without faith, there is no Christian life.

Notice in Hebrews 11:6, the very definition of faith involves drawing near to God with the expectation of His response. Faith that is pleasing to God results in spiritual experience, divine encounter.

Is Hearing God only for the Mature in Christ?

At this point, some will agree that hearing God is certainly very important, but perhaps something we should expect only from the mature believer. But what if this kind of experience is something we can realistically expect from every believer, regardless of maturity? Let’s take a look at some familiar verses from earlier in Romans 10.

“Because, if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved.” (Romans 10:9–10)

As we saw in Romans 10:17, faith comes from hearing Jesus speak; this passage is about brand new believers! Faith resulting from hearing Christ speak is not merely for the mature; it is the very entry point of our life in Christ. This becomes clear when we add verse eight:

“But what does it say? “The word is near you, in your mouth and in your heart” (that is, the word of faith that we proclaim); because, if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved.” (Romans 10:8–10)

What precedes the faith and confession that appropriate salvation in a person’s life? The word comes near. We hear the voice of God speaking to us even in the presentation of the gospel; faith can come no other way. No one can experience the salvation Jesus has provided apart from hearing the voice of God. Think of your own conversion experience. What, in addition to the mere transmission of data, was going on inside you? What were you sensing? How was the Holy Spirit tugging on your heart? If you can put into words what that was like, then you already have a point of reference for what it’s like for you to hear God’s voice.

Hearing God is for every believer, new and mature. There’s no other way to become one. Hearing God in the presentation of the gospel is distinct from merely hearing the gospel, for many hear the gospel and don’t believe.

Once someone has heard Christ in this way and responded with faith and confession, they are saved. It is at this point the two primary discipleship models we have discussed previously are usually brought into view.

It tends to go something like this:

Now that you are a believer, we have a class we want you to attend (the educational model). In this class, we want you to understand there are some behaviors you should, as a believer, not be involved in (prohibitive legal model). Additionally, as a believer, you should pray, read your Bible, attend church, etc. (This is the prescriptive legal model.) Those who began their walk with Christ by responding to the living voice of His Spirit are now continuing their walk by the methods of doctrinal instruction and rule keeping.

Paul wrote the letter to the Galatians to address this exact issue. Believers converted through spiritual experience and divine encounter had been tricked into attempting spiritual growth by another means.

“O foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you? It was before your eyes that Jesus Christ was publicly portrayed as crucified. Let me ask you only this: Did you receive the Spirit by works of the law or by hearing with faith? Are you so foolish? Having begun by the Spirit, are you now being perfected by the flesh?” (Galatians 3:1–3)

Paul is not simply contrasting faith with law; he’s being much more pointed and specific than that. He is contrasting the hearing of faith and receiving the Spirit with the works of the law and the flesh. It is not just faith; it is the hearing of faith. Paul’s entire argument is that the way you begin is the way you should continue. The way you enter is the way you are perfected. Hearing Jesus speak to you, being led by the Spirit, is what makes you a son of God. It is also what brings you into maturity. There are no mature believers who don’t know how to hear God’s voice, and there are no immature believers who can’t hear God; it is impossible to be a believer any other way.

What I Really Learned

When I finally got the job working for Tom, what did I really receive? A job? A paycheck? A great opportunity to grow and develop under the influence of a wonderful mentor? Yes, but I received more. I learned more. I’m not talking about the kind of learning that informs; I’m talking about the kind of learning that brings understanding, shapes the lenses through which we perceive reality, and forms our core beliefs about God, ourselves, and the nature of reality.

I learned God speaks to me, and I can hear Him. I learned God is near, and intimately involved in the affairs of my life. I learned God is good, and works in my life to do good in and through me. I learned God is powerful and able to arrange and orchestrate very complex details and events in order to accomplish His purpose. I learned He must think I am quite valuable in order to go to this kind of trouble. I learned that sometimes, when circumstances tell me I can’t hear God or I’ve somehow blown it, I shouldn’t be too quick to judge.

I learned lots of things, some of them important beyond quantifying, simply because God told me what job to apply for, that I would get the job, and when to send my résumé and to whom. I heard. I responded. This is the life of faith, and it is available to you. You can’t learn these kinds of things by reading this paragraph; unless, of course, you are listening not just to me, but to Him.

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“You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name, he may give it to you.” (John 15:16, ESV)

“We love because he first loved us.” (1 John 4:19, ESV)

I’ve written a bit recently about love and choice, specifically in the context of finding romance and marriage. My contention is that “The One” is a myth prior to marriage. You can read more about that here. Love is expressed by powerful and free people who make choices. “The One” is determined by choosing and being chosen in return, not by fate or the sovereign determinate will of God. God’s sovereign will is for you to choose and be chosen. Once this choice is made and covenant is established, that person is now “The One”. That person becomes your soul mate once you have mated them in covenant resulting from choice.

Response to this way of thinking has been a mixed bag to say the least. Many have responded positively with thanks and relief. Others have responded more negatively, with concern and disagreement. It’s been interesting to me because, in most cases, both responses have represented an appeal to romance. To some, the idea of choosing and being chosen is the essence of romance. To others, this is the most unromantic concept they’ve ever heard. To some, romance is about active choosing. To some, romance is about a more passive process of “falling” in love, finding your soul mate, finding “The One” person you are destined to be with forever.

It seems we must think about how we think about romance.

But I think there is a deeper, more fundamental issue. What is the human will? How does it function. It seems to me that those who cling to the romantic notion of “falling in love” as preferable to the more active process of choosing to love, prefer this because of a specific way they tend to think about choice itself.

By God’s design, humans are three part beings. We are spirit, soul and body. Our spirit is the deepest part of who we are, enabling us to perceive and interact with heavenly reality. Our body is the physical part of our being, enabling us to perceive and interact with earthly reality. Our soul is connected to both spirit and body and is designed to respond to both heaven and earth, via spirit and body.

Our soul is itself made of three parts: mind, emotion and will. These faculties are both material and non-material. They are material in that their existence and function are intricately intertwined with the physiology of our brain. They are more than mere matter in that they are connected via our spirit to spiritual reality and in that they will continue once our body fails. Our mind represents our capacity to think, to reason, to imagine, to intuit. Our emotions give us the capacity to feel, to affect and be affected, to know acceptance or rejection, to know safety or danger in a relational context. Our will gives us the ability to choose, to prefer, to desire, to exclude.

I think many whose negative reaction to my contention that love finds expression through active choice rather than passive surrender to fate have a very particular way of thinking about will and choice. This way of thinking tends to isolate the human will distinct from the other components of human existence. “I choose to love you” is heard merely as a dry exercise of volition without affection, without desire. Somehow it is still seen as connected to reason yet disconnected from all else, as thought we are saying “I choose to love you because it’s logical to do so or  because it is moral to do so.” I choose you comes to mean that you are a wise choice. How unromantic.

If we think of the will as independent of emotion, distinct from bodily attraction, independent of imagination and intuition, then the exercise of will connected to “love” does truly become an unromantic notion. But this is not how I think of the will at all. My will is the God given capacity I have to act, to initiate, to self direct and self govern. But there is a context within which I am designed to do these things. Apart from this context, I become robotic. Unromantic. By this I mean “less than ideal.” Ideally, my will functions in a manner deeply integrated with every component of God’s design. Deeply connected to my imagination, intuition and intellect; fully integrated with my desire and affection; fully interactive with my sexuality and attraction, my will enables me to give expression to all of these aspects of who I am.

When I say “I love you” to Nancy, I very much mean by this that “I choose you.” This is not an expression of obligation. Oh I guess it is on some rudimentary level. The bonds of covenant do, in fact, obligate me. But if I’m directed only by that obligation then our connection is less than it should or could be. There are guard rails on the highway for a reason, but I shouldn’t rely on them to direct me. Nor is “I love you” an expression of dry will, of volition void of emotion, desire or imagination. I am not a robot making some logical choice based on options and variables. No – “I love you” means this: I am a man full of imagination, intuition, and intellect; full of affection, longing for acceptance, willing to risk rejection; capable of deep desire and attraction – and I have set you apart in order to give you the deepest level of access to all that I am, in order to offer you the fullness of what it means for me to be me.  I have chosen you as the object of the full expression of my identity-spirit, body and soul. I choose you and reject all others. I choose you means “I love you.” It means, essentially, given all that I am and all that you are, you are the one I want and I want no other.

Now that, in my humble opinion, is romantic. I’m not with you because fate chose. I’m with you because I chose; and because you chose me in return. You let me know you and when I knew you I chose you. I risked letting you know me and your response was to choose me back.

Chosen romance is sustainable romance. If our romance is dependent upon fate in its origin then it’s dependent upon fate in its continuation. If we “fell” into love we can fall out of it. But if our romance is the result of knowing and being known, risking rejection and being chosen, knowing and choosing, then it’s a romance we can build every day.