The Dangerous Delusion of Control

Any of you remember the Caesar games for the PC?  I was introduced to the third one - called (appropriately) Caesar III - when I was in college.  It was one of those standard strategy games where you oversee the construction and operation of some sort of organization.  In this case, you were in charge of building Roman provinces.  You controlled farming, mining, fishing, and a whole host of other natural resources.  You were in charge of trade, festivals, employment, and so on.  Games like this were so popular - and are still so popular - because you, the player, have total control of the system.  And when things went wrong - an earthquake, perhaps, or barbarian invasions - it was your reactions and rebuilding that got the whole thing back on course.  I believe, in other words, that the games are popular because they appeal to our very human desire to be in control.  We think that if we can be in control, then things won't go (as) wrong as they otherwise would.


It's why we take vitamins and avoid bacon, right?  If I get all the nutrients I need and avoid all the stuff I don't, then I'll live a long and healthy life.  That's why I take cholesterol medicine, so that I won't die of a heart attack when I'm 40.  If I eat right, then I can control the span of my life.  It's also why I have an IRA - if I save for retirement, then I can live comfortably later without being a burden to my child. 



But it's an illusion.  If I don't take the medicine, if I eat lots of a bacon, if I stop taking vitamins and eating salads, will I die when I'm 40?  The answer is that I don't know; I'm not in charge of how long I live.  I could be hit by a car tomorrow, and then what did my diet get me?  What did the pills do?  Nothing.  What good was saving all of that money?  I don't know the number of my days . . . only God does.  "Eating right" is only the illusion of being in control.  Large bank accounts are only the illusion of being in control.

None of us can control our lives.


Now, don't misread this.  Our mission, as disciples of Jesus, is to bring as many people to Jesus as we possibly can, and to keep at it for as long as we can.  So we take care of ourselves in order to be at our peak performance as witnesses to the Gospel, knowing, at the same time, that our lives are no longer ours to control.  Our mission, as disciples of Jesus, is to take care of those around us, so that they can know the love of Christ.  So I save money, I spend wisely, and I am learning to give generously, knowing that my money is no longer mine to control. 



David's Fear
King David starts out Psalm 4 with a very intense - and human - cry of frustration:  "Answer me when I call to you, oh my righteous God!  Give me relief from my distress; be merciful and hear my prayer!" 


How many times in my life have you and I said the same thing when our prayers go unanswered?  How many times have I cried out in frustration when God was silent?  "Where are you, God?  Answer me!" or "Do something!"



How many times did I cry that as I watched my mother die?  "Heal her, God!  DO SOMETHING!"


How many times did I cry that when my struggle with lust and porn got the better of me?  "Take it from me, God!  DO SOMETHING!"


How many times did I cry that when relationships crumbled, when things went wrong, or when life got hard?  So when David says, "Answer me, God!" I can relate  My guess is that if you're reading this, you probably can, too.  Now we don't know exactly what was going on with David at this point, but we get a glimpse of it in verse 3.  After asking God - pleading with God - to answer him, David turns his plea to his subjects:  "How long, oh men, will you turn my glory into shame?  How long will you love delusions and seek false gods?" 


David's people were slandering him.  They had turned on him, perhaps they were blaming him for their problems.  Maybe it was a famine, a war - who knows - but his people turned their backs on their king.  More than that, they had turned their backs on God, too, and David wanted it to stop.  "How long?" he asks.  "Answer me when I call to you, God!"


Do.  Some.  Thing.


But then David seems to take a step back and remind himself of three things, three concepts that change his whole perspective on life.  The first is that no matter what happens, God is still God.


Check out verse 4:  "The Lord has set apart the righteous for himself.  The Lord will hear when I call to him."  No matter how silent God might be at your moment of crisis, He's still God and He's still on His throne.  He doesn't step out for a latte, He doesn't sleep, He doesn't have a potty emergency . . . He's God.  He's the God of the good, the bad, and the ugly, and, no matter what the situation is, He's in control.  God works all things for the good of those who live Him and are called according to His purpose, Paul reminds us.  This means that God's silence wasn't out of absenteeism or apathy, but was for David's good, our good and, most of all, God's glory. 


The second thing David reminds himself is that anger and fear are never an excuse to sin:  "In your anger, do not sin.  When you are on your beds, search your hearts and be silent" (5).  Note that very important phrase:  "When you are on your beds. . . ."  Sounds like it was written by someone who knows what it means to toss and turn, doesn't it?  The control he had was slipping away, and David, in the dark watches of the night, was afraid.  But God is still God, and we are to search our hearts and root out that fear, knowing that God knows the plans He has for us, and we should be awed into a reverent silence at His mercy and holiness. 


Then David hits us with what I think is the hardest point:  keep living out our faith.  "Offer right sacrifices and trust in the Lord" (6), he writes.  It's not enough to not overtly sin, we must continue to live and preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  Our fear of losing control is never an excuse to commit sin, but neither is it an excuse to sin by omission.  In David's time, that was the sacrifice offered at the temple.  In our time, it's ourselves.  "Offer yourselves,"  Paul writes, "as living sacrifices."  Remember when I said that our lives were not ours to control?  That, friends, is what it means to be a living sacrifice.


Now, after all of this, David reminds us that things haven't gotten any better:  "Many are asking, 'Who can show us any good?'" (7).  The problems still remain, morale is low, people are slandering him, but David's entire perspective has changed.  Instead of praying, "Answer me!" David prays, "Let the light of your face shine upon us, oh God."  In other words, "Be who you are, God."  And then. . . .


. . . "You have filled my heart with greater joy than when their grain and new wine abound.  I lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, oh Lord, make me dwell in safety" (8).  David is more content, more at peace, than when his entire country is well-fed and drunk.  The man who was tossing and turning in his bed in verse 5 now sleeps like a baby.  And it wasn't - get this - it wasn't because circumstances had improved.  People were still hopeless and without morale, but David's entire perspective had changed because he realized one very important point:  God is our only security.


"For you alone, oh Lord, make me dwell in safety."


Think about it this way.  If God, for whatever reason, wanted you to be destitute, would He be capable of wiping out your entire savings account?  If God could bring a person to faith in Jesus Christ by having your home broken into, could He cause your fancy security system to malfunction?  These are not necessarily bad things to have, but we must always - always - remember that God alone makes us dwell in safety.  I am not guaranteed my next heartbeat, and neither is anyone else. 


Including my loved ones.


So I will fasten my seat belt, I won't leave my dryer running when I go to the store, and I will teach my daughter to look both ways before crossing the street.  But at the end of the day, I will try to remember that the belief that I can control my life is about as fruitless and pointless as believing that I was actually building the Roman Empire whenever I turned on my computer.  God is in control, and He will receive glory.  So if by my life - or death - that will happen, then all I can say is "Amen."

War on Women

By now, you have probably seen the video in which a woman at Planned Parenthood discussed harvesting and selling body parts from aborted children.  Outrage has been swift and fierce, with many Christians (and many politicians) crying for the defunding of Planned Parenthood.  Now, if the idea of harvesting and selling organs and body parts seems okay to you, you're not going to like what I have to say in the rest of this post.  However, I sincerely pray you finish reading this, because I want you to understand where most of us Christians are coming from when we say we are "pro-life," but I also want you to understand what we're not saying.


In a 2013 address at a Planned Parenthood conference, President Obama accused members of congress of telling "millions of women . . . you're on your own."  That "they've been involved in an orchestrated and historic effort to roll back basic rights when it comes to women's health," that they "want to turn back the clock . . . to the 1950s."

That's not what this is about.  I can't speak for all politicians, but for me, I'm not interested in denying health care to women.  I'm not interested in waging a war on women, or turning women out into the streets to die of cancer.  The President makes it sound as if we're trying to undo cancer screenings and that we don't care about women's lives.

But that isn't true.

What we aren't saying is that women belong in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant.  What we are saying is that no one has the right to kill a child, which is really what abortion boils down to.  In fact, I think that anytime the debate arises, we should ask the question:  "In this situation, is it okay to kill a child?"  The answer is always a resounding "no."

But what about rape?  This is the accusation thrown out every single time anyone discusses abortion (even the President brought it up): that if you're against abortion, you're a heartless bastard who doesn't care about rape victims.  Firstly, I think it's interesting that people who say "Stop killing children" have become the monsters in society's eyes.  Secondly, I have absolutely no illusions that rape is okay.  I have no illusions that rape is something to "get over," nor do I have any illusions that carrying a child who was a product of rape is easy.  If - God forbid - my wife were ever raped, and was pregnant as a result, would I be okay with that child?  I'd like to think so, but in all honesty, I'm not sure.  I'm not sure there wouldn't be some emotional pain - for either of us.  But let's go back to my question:  is it okay to kill a child?

The answer is still no.  Why would my wife or I have the right to take the life of someone whose only crime is to be conceived?  Would we keep the child, or give it up for adoption?  I don't know, and I'm not sure I can know unless we're in that situation.  But the fact remains that neither of us have the right to murder a baby; we simply don't.  Let me put it another way by borrowing some logic from Canadian journalist Michael Coren.

In most states, it's no longer a capital offense to rape a woman.  In fact, in many states, capital punishment has been completely repealed.  So in the case of a rape in which a woman ends up pregnant, there are now three people involved:  the perpetrator, the victim, and the child.  To use rape as an argument in defense of abortion is to say that out of those three people, you are perfectly fine with the child receiving the death penalty. 

We're not against women, but we are for children.  We're not cutting off mammograms.  In fact, because of the ACA, mammograms are now free for most women.  To try to use that as a defense of Planned Parenthood . . . well, the President tried, but he shot himself in the foot on that one.  This is not a question about whether or not women can make decisions about their health, as if "pregnancy" is synonymous with "illness."  This is about whether or not anyone has the right to take the life of a defenseless and innocent child.

If saying "no" to that makes me a monster, then so be it.