There are many ways to break out of the cycle of inward living. The more you “medicate”, the more inwardly you will turn thus requiring even more medication and a deeper turn inward upon self.
Medicate? Scrolling through Instagram or Facebook. Just cruising around the internet. A few glasses of wine. That need to just go buy something so you’ll feel better about yourself. Indulging on Chipotle. Chocolate. Ice cream. Shutting off from people, plugging in your ipod, opening up your laptop – listening and watching what will make you feel good. Pornography. Pure and simply, porn is simply medication. Shopping for women. A new car. There 100s more forms of medication. 1000s.
The root of all of these is “self”. It is sin. You are hurting and your flesh cries out for comfort and after all, “you deserve it”. So you dive in. And as we discussed Wednesday, as that cycle feeds on itself, the man underneath curves inward upon himself. He becomes domesticated. Indoors. Behind a screen. Weak. Physically weak. Nothing strenuous. Nothing to push him. Just give me the meds. Remember what Hugh Freeze said – life is going to beat you up and you’re going to want to run to the training room. They have hot tubs and ice packs in there. They’ll rub you down and tape you up and make you warm and you’re not going to want to get back out on that cold, rainy football field. But you have to get back into the game.
Sadly for Americans, we’ve turned inwardly in our wealth and privilege and are consuming medication at the fastest pace in history. It only serves to dig our holes deeper. We’ve embraced this in the church. We’ve adopted a Country Club Christianity where we come to church to get our needs met, to hear the kind of music we want to hear, to have our kids perfectly attended by volunteers (“someone else does that”) … we come to church to be served. We don’t like the style of music so we walk in when the sermon starts. Or we even leave the church because we miss those traditional Baptist hymns. We run in, consume what is there, take communion and walk out the door before its over without having to engage in community. We leave the church because our 10-year old isn’t happy with how kids church is going. We’re letting our children make the family decision of where we will worship because their comfort and happiness is paramount.
It is the self-obsessed tendency we all have. The “me, me, me” of life being there to meet all my needs. The more we curve in on ourselves, the less prepared and equipped we’ll be for when the inevitable hard times come and isn’t that what we’re teaching our kids? When life doesn’t go exactly “our way”, we won’t have mechanisms in place to deal with it. As a result, we’ll make poor, me-centered decisions.
Incurvatus is our sin nature. It must be fought. You must be aware of it.
Because, it comes on subtly. It takes root. We lose our bearings. We lose our worship of the Father. We lose the passion of our early faith. We settle. We crave comfort. In the radical transformation of your life when Jesus knocked you off your horse and said, “I’ve chosen you. Follow me” … in that … how have we now gotten to a place where our personal comfort is paramount?
What part of Jesus is “safe”?
He loves us, adores us, died for us and all He asked was “Do you love me? Do you love me? Then follow me.” “Follow me” doesn’t mean a life that is safe nor one that is inwardly curved upon itself craving comfort.
Do you see what’s happening? We are consuming and consuming and consuming and in so doing, we’re turning in on ourselves. Listen to this challenge from Erwin McManus …
“If you are a follower of Christ and you have allowed yourself to be domesticated, you have lost the power of who you are and who God intends you to be. You were not created to be normal. God’s desire for you is not compliance and conformity. You have been baptized by spirit and fire.”
“Asleep within you is a barbarian, a savage to all who love the prim and proper. You must go to the primal place and enter the presence of the Most High God, for there you will be changed. Let Him unleash the untamed faith within you.”
“The original call of Jesus was so simple, so clean, so clear: “Follow me”. He wants us to surrender our lives to Him and follow Him into the unknown. If it means a life of suffering, hardship and disappointment, it will be worth it because following Jesus is more powerful and more fulfilling than gaining everything of the world without Him.”
“To claim we believe is simply not enough. The call of Jesus is one that demands actions. Jesus began his ministry with a simple invitation, “Come, follow me”. His closing words to His disciples could be summarized in one word, “GO”. The invitation of Jesus is a revolutionary call to fight for the heart of humanity.”
YOUR CALL IS ONE OUTSIDE OF SELF. IF YOU ARE A BELIEVER, THEN AT SOME POINT IN YOUR LIFE, CHRIST CAME ALONG AND KNOCKED YOU OFF YOUR HORSE. LAYING THERE, BROKEN, FACE DOWN IN THE DUST OF THE DESTRUCTION OF YOUR SIN, YOU WERE AWAKENED BY CHRIST. “NOW GET UP” HE SHOUTS. “WAKE UP!” “I HAVE A DIVINE PURPOSE FOR YOU AND YOUR LIFE. IT IS WAY BEYOND SELF. IT’S WAY BEYOND COMFORT. IT IS RADICAL. FOLLOW ME”.
Lastly, from Teddy Roosevelt. Weak as a child and sickly, his father told him, “You’re smart but your body is weak. A weak body will take a smart mind only so far”. Teddy started weight training and exercising. It served him well throughout life. Later in life, he lost his wife and mother in one 24 hour period. Crushed and despondent, he knew he had to zero back in and get healing in his life. He gave his young daughter to his sister for her to care and he headed West…
Why did he go? Why such a dramatic move? The answer seems to be that Roosevelt needed to restore and rebuild and he knew only one way to do it: return to the strenuous and the difficult. Perhaps those hours of lifting weights and balancing on horizontal bars had surfaced forces of soul he needed to summon once again. Perhaps a return to the arduous physical life was the only way he knew to quell the turmoil of his heart. Obviously, he needed space, wilderness, difficult tasks, and looming danger. He knew this was the key to healing. He had experienced this truth in his life before.
After arriving in the Dakotas, Roosevelt did not spend three years in a comfortable chair by the fire with a brandy in one hand and a book in the other. Instead, he became the western hero of his dreams. He herded cattle and broke bucking horses. He stood down grizzlies and fought off desperados. On one occasion, he tracked down thieves for three days across 300 miles in subzero temperatures. Once he took the criminals captive, he then traveled another six days and 150 miles to surrender them to authorities. And the wilderness healed him. He tamed the wilderness around him by way of taming the wilderness of his own soul. He grieved and got through it. He lived in the moment, in the physical, and in intimate connection with nature. It forced him from living entirely in his thoughts to living a rooted, earthy life in which thoughts come only after work is done.
All men need what Roosevelt found – a strenuous physical life, the possibility of harm, challenges to face, enemies to oppose, land to conquer. Our lives push us away from this. We work in cubicles or comfortable vehicles. Technology serves us and keeps us from exertion. We live in opulent blandness – overfed, over-tended, over-entertained, and overly preoccupied with ourselves. But men need aggressive, physical lives. They need contest and conquest, strain and struggle. Otherwise, we lose ourselves to softness and effeminacy. It is not much of a surprise that a New Testament world that is translated effeminate from the original Greek actually means “soft through luxury”. It is a warning.
Roosevelt reminds us we are not disembodied spirits. We are souls sealed into bodies. We need to work the machinery, be alive in both body and soul. It will awaken the masculinity in us. It will help us untangle our inner knots. It will remind us we are men. (from the book Mansfield’s Book of Manly Men)