As the end of 2015
approached, we all held onto our hopes and dreams and questions, and we sucked
in real deep and held our breath. One phone call can change the entire
landscape of a family. We waited with heads bowed. In a room full of twinkling
lights and Christmas joy, we confessed that joy seemed far away, but we asked
for it anyway. We begged God to move. In the middle of that family prayer, I
began to recognize an intense desire to build. As I grappled with questions I
couldn’t answer, dreams I couldn’t keep, and dread I couldn’t shake, I sensed
God’s gentle invitation:
Stop building and start worshiping.
I
found myself wanting to build case for God, as if He needed that from me. I
wanted to make sense of what God was doing so that I would feel better, but
attempting to manipulate and rationalize a mysterious, holy God is a disaster
waiting to happen. It’s a tower that needs to fall.
We
are all broken, and because of this, we all build. Building only gives the
illusion of control. We build when we don't trust or when we don't like that
God is telling us to wait. We build as a way to cope. Building busies us.
That's why we like it. Satan likes it, too, because as long as we’re building,
our eyes aren’t focused on God.
Worship is the opposite of building; worship is
surrender.
There’s a strange comradery
I always sense as I read Genesis 11, the account of a people caught trying to
build their way to heaven. God told the sons of Noah to scatter and multiply across the earth. They didn't like God's plan too much, so they put their heads together and decided to try
real hard to make a name for themselves. And they found it wasn’t that hard
after all.
They said to
each other, “Come, let’s make bricks and bake them thoroughly.” They used brick
instead of stone, and tar for mortar. Then they said, “Come, let us build
ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make
a name for ourselves; otherwise we will be scattered over the face of the whole
earth.” Genesis 11:3-4
They
were building a tower God knew would fall, so in mercy, He rescued them. I’m
sure it felt nothing like being rescued, though. I’m sure they felt the full
weight of frustration and panic, but the confusion God allowed came from a deep well of never-ending
love.
But the Lord
came down to see the city and the tower the people were building. The Lord said,
“If as one people speaking the same language they have begun to do this, then
nothing they plan to do will be impossible for them. Come, let us go down and
confuse their language so they will not understand each other.” Genesis 11:5-7
Bricks symbolize a heavy burden God never intended
for us to carry. We weren’t made to reign and rule; we were made to worship. God created
us for relationship. He designed our hearts to love Him.
Worshiping God
recalibrates our hearts to do what they were designed to do.
Left on our own, we’re confronted with the
same reckless desire as the people who thought their tower of bricks and mortar
could reach the heavens. There is something in our collective DNA that wants
our name praised. If we’re honest, the thought of sitting on the throne thrills
us. Bricks offer the fastest, easiest way to build what we believe we’re after:
control. Humility
that accompanies worship reminds us that God alone is on the throne. Bowing
before a loving God who can’t lie and won’t change is much simpler than the
burdensome pursuit of control.
Worshiping God repositions us before
the throne.
Worship realigns our posture, compelling us
to drop our bricks and pick up something much lighter instead. Fast forward
through time and space all the way to the opposite bookend, Revelation, where
this beautiful exchange is played out.
After this I looked, and there before me was a great
multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and
language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing
white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. And they cried out in a loud
voice: “Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb.”
Revelation
7:9-10
Every language spoken on earth is fused
together through this one proclamation of praise. Hands that once held bricks
now hold palm branches. Light, airy, and beautifully vibrant palm branches.
In the Old Testament, at the same time each
year, temporary tents were constructed with palm branches. The people lived in these
‘booths’ for seven straight days. Rejoicing and feasting were had by all. God
wanted His people to remember how He had rescued their ancestors out of Egypt. These
temporary shelters reminded the people how God had provided for them in the
wilderness. The palm branches reminded them that God’s presence was their
shelter.
I find it more than a bit ironic that many of
the Jewish slaves were given the arduous task of making bricks by their Egyptian
taskmasters. Bricks represent bondage. Palm
branches represent victory. God invites us all to experience the freedom that
comes when we exchange bricks for branches, and we don’t have to wait until we
get to heaven to make the trade. Jesus, as He
hung bruised and bloody on the cross, satisfied the wrath of God towards sin. As
He walked out of the grave three days later, Jesus defeated sin and death and
darkness permanently. Victory belongs to
Jesus, and when He takes up residence within us, victory becomes our
inheritance.
Worshiping God renews
our minds so we understand what is ours in Jesus.
It doesn’t mean that we’re exempt from pain, but God offers something
that has the power to change the way we walk through every struggle we face.
Control isn’t really even what we crave; it’s Hope. Jesus is our Hope.
As 2016 begins, we will all be confronted
again with the desire to build. Losses, disappointments, and hardships will
cause us to examine whether we’re holding bricks that weigh down our hearts or
branches that proclaim God is good and all He does is good. Worship always brings
us back to Jesus, the One who has already overcome every struggle we’re yet to
face.
May we kneel, right where we are and just as
we are, to worship. May we drop heavy, stone-cold bricks and stretch out our
arms to wave palm branches instead. May God recalibrate our hearts, realign our
posture, and renew our minds as we worship together in one voice the One who
holds all things together.
Jesus Loves You,
Kelly
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