Archives For heart

SIN_KILLS_SIGNYou probably have felt the monster that lives inside of you.  The more you feel it, the better.  The monster is deadliest when it’s undetected.  If you feel the monster inside of you, then that’s a good sign.  That means he’s been spotted, and now you can do something about him.

This monster needs little explanation.  He’s so closely tied to ourselves, that we know him best when he’s explained the least.  He’s the hideous Thing in each of us that makes us ugly, unworthy, and unwanted.  We hate the monster and what he does in our lives and to our lives.  It’s all we can do to keep from becoming on the outside what we so clearly are on the inside.

We’re constantly beating back the monster, though his claws and venom often escape.  He’s so powerful and we’re barely hanging on, totally helpless to stop him.  We can only beat him back, listen to his lies, and pray for those moments when we forget his whispering.

“You’re not good enough.”

“You’re worthless.”

“You can never be forgiven.”

“You’re all alone.”

“You’re not accepted.”

“God hates you.”

Have you heard this monster before?  What can you do?

By yourself, you can do nothing, because the problem is not just inside of you, the problem is you.  You’re the monster.  The only way to defeat him is through the power of another.  But what possibly can defeat a monster like this?  It’s one thing to be strong enough to lift a car, but it’s quite another thing to be strong enough to lift a conscience.  We possess nothing so strong as to be able to lift the human heart.  This monster is too massive for us and requires strength unlike this world has ever known.

As it turns out, the monster is defeated by a Lamb.

© Samuel Kee, 2013

5235I read this annoying Facebook post recently—I’m sure you’ve heard something like it before.  I can’t find the exact quote right now, but it went something like this:

“There’s a spark of goodness in each one of us, you’ve just got to dig deep enough in your heart to find it…There’s a place in your heart where you can find God, that’s pure and unstained by the world, etc.” 

No matter how encouraging this type of sentiment might seem on the surface, it really is not!  The thought behind these statements is to help people be more spiritual.  –Put them in touch with God, get over their guilt, help them to get their eyes off the cares of this world, and so forth.  These sorts of statements do not help us become more spiritual, but less.  To be more spiritual, by definition, we need to focus less on ourselves and more on God.

Any honest person will admit that the deeper you look inside yourself, the worse you feel, not better.  If we look for the spark of goodness inside of us, we’ll only find fumes.  The deeper we look inside ourselves, the dirtier it gets, not purer.  Our dreams betray us.  How often we have dreams at night, when upon waking up we shudder, for the kinds of thoughts that were in our brain—the kinds of desires that we were capable of.

This also comes out in stress and trials.   The more pressure that we’re in, the more our true nature erupts out of us.  Under stress and suffering, we’re like pots of water set to boil; when put to the heat, all of our scum rises to the surface.  Then we realize that humans do not have any goodness or purity within themselves.  It’s all dark and disgusting in there.

If we look inside of ourselves to find God, we’ll strain our eyes until we go blind, or until we get sick to our stomachs because of the evil we find within our own hearts.  Nobody can remain healthy so long as they focus on themselves.  There is no good inside any person, not me, not you.

Have the guts to admit that it’s true.  Our fantasies are sickening; our desires are wacked; our intentions are foul.  You’ve got secrets inside you that would cause anyone to draw back.  There is no goodness inside of you—and there’s no goodness inside of me.

We need help.

The starting point for all spiritual journeys is to admit that you’re lost.  Your relationship with God must start there.  Before you can have hope, you must first realize that you have no hope.  In order to come alive, you must see that you are dead.  There is no resurrection for the living.  Until we get in touch with our inner darkness, we’ll never find God.  Our souls are all like a dark valley, against which the brightness of God is most obviously illumined.

This might really resonate with you; maybe you’re like me and you can’t stand those funky new-aged quotes about our inner goodness.  You’ve been around the block and know that it’s a hoax.  If you’re at least that savvy, then you might like this quote, which is not from some fruity sage with his head in the clouds, but from guy who knew he was absolutely destitute apart from God’s intervening grace:

None is righteous, no, not one; no one understands; no one seeks for God.  All have turned aside; together they have become worthless; no one does good, not even one.  Their throat is an open grave; they use their tongues to deceive.  The venom of asps is under their lips.  Their mouth is full of curses and bitterness.  Their feet are swift to shed blood; in their paths are ruin and misery, and the way of peace they have not known.  There is no fear of God before their eyes.[i]

Now, be honest, which describes reality better?  The first quote or this last one?  When you’re done watching the evening news or taking inventory of your own heart, which quote makes better sense of it all?

Which thought helps you to see and which keeps you blind?

© Samuel Kee, 2013


[i] Romans 3:10-18.

Let God be God

samuel kee —  January 7, 2013 — 4 Comments

4483There’s a story early in the Old Testament that has puzzled people for years.  It’s the story of Cain and Abel in Genesis 4.  The narrative walks us through the time when both offered sacrifices to God, but God only had regard for Abel and his offering, not Cain’s.  Some have suggested that Abel’s offering was somehow better than Cain’s, but the text shows no indications of that.  It simply says that “the Lord had regard for Abel and his offering, but for Cain and his offering he had no regard” (Genesis 4:4, 5).  Cain was a farmer, so he presented God with an offering of the fruit of the ground.  That makes sense.  Abel was a herdsman, so he presented God with an offering of his livestock.  That makes sense, too.  Yet God liked one more than the other.  Though that might not make sense to us, it does not mean that we can’t accept it.

Cain couldn’t accept it.  In fact, it says that he grew angry and his face fell (4:5).  So God asks him, “Why are you angry, and why has your face fallen?” (4:6).  God’s question is very searching, penetrating deep into our souls, unburying their gross dysfunction.

Something happened after the fall of Adam and Eve in Genesis 3, which colors all of our text in Genesis 4 with their children, Cain and Abel.  Sin began in Genesis 3, but the effects of sin are described in Genesis 4.  The major affect of sin is that it causes us to turn from God to self.  In fact, that’s what Cain’s anger was all about: he couldn’t let God be God.

Cain couldn’t let God prefer one sacrifice over the other, as if God were not allowed to like chocolate ice cream more than vanilla.  But so what if God prefers chocolate over vanilla?  What is that to us?  So what if God prefers Abel’s sacrifice to Cain’s?  What’s the big deal?  Can’t God be God?  God is not obligated to us, as if we’re his Creator and Master.

Sin had caused Cain to place himself at the center of the universe, and his heart’s desire was for everything to revolve around him—even God.  His sacrifice was not really about worshipping God, but about God worshipping him.  Think about that.

Cain wanted God to make a big deal out of his offering, not his brother’s.  It wasn’t about God at all, but about Cain.

I learn a lot from Cain’s pride, for it forces me to search the areas in my life where I am not letting God be God.  God is holy other and wholly other than me; he can do whatever he pleases.  So what if he prefers to take my life or leave it?  He is God and can do as he chooses.  So what if he chooses to bless my neighbor more than me?  He is God and he can do as he chooses.  Who am I to get angry and allow my face to fall?

Allow God’s question to address you, too.  “Why are you angry, and why has your face fallen?”  Why are you bitter with God?  Do you think he owes you?

Let God be God.  Only then will we discover the true meaning of worship.

© Samuel Kee, 2013

12572I’m sure you’ve had the experience of suddenly smelling an ugly stench, only to realize that it was coming from your shoe!  It’s not pleasant to discover that you’ve stepped in something, if you know what I mean.  Peering down at the sole of your shoe and seeing mashed-in bits of dog excrement is no way to be the life of the party.  Especially when you’re in a car and the sticky odor gets trapped in an enclosed area.

Jesus had some profound insights along these lines in his commentary on the human heart.  His diagnoses of the human condition was not just counter intuitive, but revolutionary.  Those days, like ours, religious people believed (and taught) that humans became defiled because of what they did or touched.  They thought the source of evil, in other words, was outside.  This understanding drastically affected their teaching.  They taught that in order to be good enough for God, then you had to keep yourself from things that might get you dirty.  You had to follow certain religious ceremonies; you had to keep away from the defiling things of this world; you had to eat only certain foods; you had to keep away from certain kinds of people; and so forth.  Their approach was to hunker down beneath a religious shield, so that the evil arrows of this world could not penetrate their lives and infect their hearts with the poison of sin.

Our belief today is not much different than the religious leaders of Jesus’ day.  We honestly think that if we just reform the outside, then the inside will follow in due course.  We think that if we had more education, gun control, better communities, better food, increased technology, or a different political party in office, then things would turn out alright.  We think that if we went to church, followed the rules, and tried our best to obey, then life would smell like roses again.

But while we’re constantly striving to reform the outside, Jesus says that it’s the inside that’s deformed.  Listen to these revolutionary words from Jesus:

“It is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but what comes out of the mouth that defiles a person…What comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart, and this defiles a person.”  (Matthew 15:11, 18).

Arguing against the idea that holiness comes from avoiding certain foods, Jesus identifies the real source of the stink.  The evil of this world does not come from outside of us, but from inside of us.  As Jesus says, it “proceeds from the heart.”  Ouch.  Let the weight of that statement crush your pride right now, as it has crushed mine.  The defilement and evil we see in this world, which infects our lives with lethal poison, is coming from our hearts.  Right now.  It’s not coming from a lack of education, etc., it’s coming from us.

We stepped in something and our souls are dirty.

The stench is coming from us; we’re carrying it around wherever we go.  Our hearts are like a smokestack in a factory, barfing out hideous evils and dissipating them throughout the world.  All of the evil we see in this world, has its origins about twelve inches beneath our brains.  Just to clarify, Jesus adds:

“For out of the heart come evil thoughts, murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false witness, slander.” (Matthew 15:19)

Do you recognize any of those evils in our world right now?  Any guesses where they came from?  Where is the smell coming from?  We had better check our souls, for that evil smell is coming from us.

It’s like dressing up a corpse: no matter how much you beautify the outside, it’s still just death wrapped in silk and Mary Kay.  No matter how much we try to solve the world’s problems on the outside, if we don’t solve the problem of our hearts on the inside, then nothing is going to change.  Life will still stink.

In the amazing grace of God, we are given a solution.  Jesus came in order to give us new hearts, not hearts of stone, but living hearts of flesh.  His mission was twofold: to absorb the punishment that we deserve for the evil that we have done; and to cleanse our hearts in order to fit them for heaven.  He wasn’t afraid to offend our sensibilities, either, because until we’re offended, we won’t be able to make this world a better place; in fact, we’ll continue to make it worse.

“God, here’s my heart.  Crush it, cleanse it, and cause it to desire you.”

© Samuel Kee, 2012

You Can’t Undress Yourself

samuel kee —  December 10, 2012 — 2 Comments

changeDo you want to know how to change?  If you’re like me, you’ve got faults and habits that you’d love to kick, especially in the New Year.  But how do you do it?  If you do a web search on how to change, you’ll find a ton of very unhelpful advice.  We need a solution that goes deeper than self-help, for the “self” is the very source of our problems in the first place.

I’d like to share with you a very helpful story in C.S. Lewis’ book The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.  It’s about a boy named Eustace, who’s a very mean and annoying boy.  Nobody liked Eustace; he said and did nasty things to his family and those around him.  So, he got what he deserved in the magical world of Narnia: he was turned into a dragon.  It was very fitting that he became on the outside, what he was already on the inside—a beast.

It takes hardly any effort at all to apply this to our lives.  Only if we’re honest, we’ll admit to being beasts on the inside.  If magical powers turned us inside out, we all might be dragons!

After several sorrowful days of being a dragon, Eustace woke up one night and couldn’t fall back asleep.  While struggling to sleep, he saw a lion.  The lion is identified as Aslan, the Being in the story who represents God.  The lion has Eustace follow him deep into the mountains, where he told the dragon to undress.  Eustace could think of no better thing to do!  He longed to get rid of his dragon skin and become a boy again.  Before consulting the lion, Eustace began to undress himself.

He thought that if he used his dragon claws to scratch off his skin, he might be able to get out of it, much like a snake does by shedding.  He scratched off his dragon skin and stepped out of it.  However, when he inspected himself, he was still a dragon.  So, Eustace tried it again.  He scratched off his dragon skin, leaving it in a pile on the ground, and stepped out of it.  As before, he was still a dragon.  Perplexed, Eustace tried the same method a third time.  After stepping out of his dragon skin, he was saddened to see that he was still a dragon beneath.

His sorrow gave him pause enough to hear the voice of the lion, who said, “You will have to let me undress you.”  Though Eustace was a dragon, he was still afraid of the lion.  But, he was desperate to get rid of his beastly nature.  So, he lay down flat on his back, trusting Aslan.  Listen to how Eustace puts it:

“The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart.  And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I’ve ever felt.  The only thing that made me able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off.”

The lion was able to do what Eustace could not do by himself—remove the beastly nature.

Do you ever feel like you’re just scratching the surface of your beastly nature?  Like you’re not getting anywhere?  We keep trying the same solutions, over and over, but we keep getting the same results, over and over.  The problem is that we cannot scratch deep enough.  We need a deeper hand at work in our lives, whose solution cuts straight to the heart.

The only way to become human again is to humble yourself before God and let him undress you.  Let him take the beastly stuff away, the stuff that you’re tired of carrying around, tired of being.  This means that the way to change begins with surrender to him.  It begins the moment you stop trying, and start relying.  When you place yourself in God’s hands, he’ll do the surgery that none of us are able to do with our own claws.

How does he do it?  He causes you to be born again with a new heart.  God removes your old nature and nails it to the cross of his Son Jesus, to make room for your new heart (for him) to grow.    Then, by the power of his Spirit, he causes your new heart to desire new things.  Once your desires change, you change.  You change from the inside out; and that is how the beastly nature is conquered.

We cannot do it without his power and apart from his grace.  Self-solutions are no solutions.  “But,” you say, “I’ve tried that!”  And therein is the problem: you tried.

© Samuel Kee, 2012

Dear Sam, I found out yesterday that my congestive heart failure’s getting worse. I wept before the Lord for joy, repeating over and over the precious hope-filled word, “Home.” There is no thing worth keeping if it keeps you from its Giver.  (Linda Maxwell)

My friend Linda wrote this in response to my most recent article “The Gift of Suffering.”  In just three sentences, she captured more truth than most of us will in a lifetime.  She is not defeated.  She refuses to look at her life from the perspective of mortality, only.  Her soul has an anchor and nothing can shove her off from her hope.  While most of us fly upside-down, as Dallas Willard wrote in his book Divine Conspiracy, Linda flies right-side-up.  She’s looking at things from the right perspective: THIS IS NOT PARADISE.  Her home is with God.  I’d bet that most of my problems come when I fall into the trap of thinking that this world is Paradise, placing all of my hope in this crippled basket.  ”There is no thing worth keeping if it keeps you from its Giver.”  There’s something so deep about that, I hope you roll it over in your soul, again and again, until it wakes you up.  May nothing keep us from the Source of our joy.  Thank you, Linda, and we are praying for you.

Dear Sam, I found out yes…

When He Comes Near You’ll Melt

samuel kee —  September 11, 2012 — 1 Comment

Who can forget the eerie human relief of Han Solo frozen in carbonite in Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back?  His face is tortured, his hands are raised with palms out, as if fighting an overwhelming, suffocating force.  His eyes agonize and he looks like he wants to speak, but he is trapped within the silence of the ice.

As the story goes, Princess Leia finds him and pushes some buttons on the control panel.  The carbonite melts and Solo falls to the ground.  It turns out that she loves him.

There is in every human, a layer of ice between our heads and our hearts.  This restricts God to just an idea in our brain, rather than a reality in our soul.  The “idea of God” just coolly sits on top of the ice, going no deeper than our thoughts.  We may believe in God, but, let’s face it, he hasn’t broken through to us yet.  We may turn to God at times, like during the painful moments, but we visit him in our brains only, and not with our hearts.  It’s a great idea to pray to him when life hurts, in other words; but we still don’t let him down into the deepest parts of us, the practical parts of us.  These are still protected by ice.

In order for God to move from just an idea to a reality, he has to get through the layer of ice separating our expectations from our experiences.  But how does he break the ice?  To do so, God must become heavier than the ice on which he rests.  Imagine an army tank, placed on a frozen pond in a country yard.  If the tank is heavier than the ice, then the ice will shatter and the tank will break through.  If the tank is lighter, then it will remain on top of the ice.  For God to break through to our hearts, he needs to become a heavy weight in our lives.  He needs to become the weightiest, the most significant feature—the object with the most matter, because he matters most.  Then God will break through to our hearts, plunging down below the surface, penetrating our hearts with his love.

When God gets near us and we realize that he is the One for us, we begin to melt.  When we understand the offer that he brings, our hearts break down.  He brings to us pure love, complete acceptance, radical forgiveness, and soul-quenching relief.  He is everything we’ve been waiting for.  We’ve been waiting for someone to love us enough to die for us, take our place in this hell (and the next), so that we could be free and safe.  As he draws near to us, the carbonite melts, only we don’t fall to the ground, we fall straight into his arms.

Everything that we’ve ever known shatters.  Every idea of love gets fulfilled in just one dramatic and cosmic embrace.

© Samuel Kee, 2012

Who Praises You?

samuel kee —  January 17, 2012 — Leave a comment

There’s a scrap of paper in my Greek Bible with some words scribbled on it in blue ink.  I remember writing them about five years ago when I was reading through the book of Romans.  They contain a seed of an idea that I had that morning when I read Romans 2:29; but I’ve never developed this thought.  So I’ve left the scrap paper and scribbles right where I left them on page 413, a constant reminder to revisit this powerful verse in Romans.  Here’s my awkward translation of it, “But the one who is inwardly a Jew, even having circumcision of the heart by the Spirit, not the letter, whose praise is not from humans, but from God” (Romans 2:29).

Here’s what I wrote on the paper: “The measure of a man is not the greatness of his accomplishment, but the greatness of his repentance.”

I’ll begin with a question, “Whom would you most desire to give you praise?”  It’s awesome to receive praise from parents or from peers, from community or country, but there’s an even greater source of praise available to us.  The ultimate praise comes from God.  Can you imagine what it would be like to receive praise from God?  Romans 2:29 indicates to us that there is praise from God available to us.  But whom is the one that God praises?

If you’re like me, you struggle with this.  We love it when people praise us.  And all sorts of malfunctions/dysfunctions happen when we are not praised, when we are overlooked, when we are forgotten.  We quickly go from confidence to crisis when we don’t receive the praise that we feel is “due” us.  We love it when other humans praise us, as the verse describes.  We don’t need a lot of over-the-top celebration, mind you, but simple recognition or acceptance will suffice.  Just acknowledge my act, my gesture, and that will be enough.

Paul wrote the letter of Romans with his Jewish people in mind.  Paul knew how important this concept of praise was to the Jews of his time.  Chrysostom notes the link between the external rites of the Jews and praise.  Circumcision is an external rite, a word to summarize the Jewish practices of Sabbath keeping, animal sacrifices, purification rites, etc.  Jews prided themselves in their external accomplishments.  But Paul wants us to know that there is another kind of circumcision, of the heart and not just the flesh.  Circumcision of the flesh is external, including all that we do on the outside in order to feel better about our inside.

Humans look at the flesh, what’s on the outside.  We praise each other for the greatness of our circumcision, if I can continue to use this crude metaphor.  Some of Paul’s people would glory in circumcision, which is just another way of saying that they put all their confidence in their ancestry.  Their greatness came from humans, in other words.  We continue to place and find our greatness in the external: race, origin, degree, wealth, status, accomplishment, fame, etc.

We justify our existence by what we have done, can do, or will do.  Actually, we ask other humans to justify our existence, by placing on them the burden to praise us.  And if they praise us, then we feel that they grant us our worth.  If they give us this worth, then our lives have meaning.  And if our lives have meaning, then we are justified in existing in the first place.  If we feel like we have sufficient justification for living, then we will not do anything drastic.

But the measure of a person is not the greatness of his accomplishment, at least not according to God’s eyes.  While humans look at the flesh, God gazes at the heart.  There is a circumcision of the flesh and there is a circumcision of the heart.  Ambrosiaster says that there is a “veil over the heart,” which only God sees and only God can remove.  Humans boast in external transformation (accomplishment), but God boasts in internal transformation (accomplishment).  Circumcision of the heart is inner transformation and what God requires.  “Circumcise therefore the foreskin of your heart, and be no longer stubborn” (Deut 10:16).  “Circumcise yourselves to the Lord; remove the foreskin of your hearts” (Jeremiah 4:4).

The more I am circumcised in the heart, the greater I am.  The more I seek, by all the graces that God has given, to transform my inner being, to cut away the veil on my dark heart, the greater I will be in God’s eyes.  The route of transformation is repentance.  Repentance is turning my course away from self-satisfaction and toward God glorification.  To repent is to remove self-religion by replacing it with true religion, worship of God.  To repent is to remove the hard skin on my heart, which keeps me from knowing God and living for him.

In short, to repent is to love God, because you’re turning away from loving other things more than you love him, embracing him as you turn.

The measure of a man is not the greatness of his accomplishment, but the greatness of his love for God.  The more I repent, the greater the praise from God.  Greatness is inward first and does not pertain to keeping the letter of the law.  The letter of the law will not make one great.  Greatness comes from the Spirit, as the Spirit of God takes away the layers of life that keep me from him.

Whom does God praise?  God praises the one who repents of his sin, allowing the Spirit entrance into his heart.  Once the Spirit is in the heart, it performs soul surgery, removing the veil of the heart.  The greater the repentance—the greater the turning toward God—the greater the inner transformation.

In an age of Facebook, Twitter, and blogs (mine included!), when everything is “externalized,” we must keep our hearts for God.  Our greatness does not come from what others can recognize about us, but from what God can do in us.

© Samuel Kee, 2012

Knowing God

samuel kee —  November 27, 2011 — Leave a comment

Do you have a temple?

The ancient Hebrew people believed that the heart, not the head, was the source and center of cognition.  This is because their understanding of “knowledge” was much different than ours in the West.  For us, to “know” means to have the correct facts about something; knowledge has more to do with data.  We claim that we know something when we have the right objective facts.

The Hebrew people were far more holistic.  Knowledge didn’t reside only in the brain, but in the heart.  To know something stemmed not just from thinking, but from experiencing.  “Knowing” something or someone was a five-sense-experience.

It’s one thing to know where Boston is or to know facts about the city itself, but it is quite another thing to know how the red bricks feel beneath your feet when you’re standing in one of its winding alleyways, drinking in the nostalgic atmosphere.  It’s one thing to know what it means to be a dad, but it’s quite another to place your worn hand on the fresh body of your newborn son, as he wriggles into this world, longing to be held.

To know means to put your heart and soul into it.  Knowledge is not just a mental activity, but a physical one, as well.

In the Hebrew Scriptures, a favorite theme was that of knowing God.  In the book of Ezekiel, the reader experiences the constant waves of “that they might know that I am the Lord” reverberating again and again throughout the chapters.  In fact, this line is repeated about 76 times from chapters 6-39.  Again and again, God works in this world, both causing harm and giving help, “that they might know that I am the Lord.”

But the faucet is suddenly turned off in chapter 40 through the remainder of Ezekiel’s book.  The significance could not be more staggering.  The reader can’t help but ask herself, “What happens in chapter 40 that ends this constant echo?”

Then we realize that in chapters 40-48, the temple returns to God’s people.  The temple was considered the place of God’s dwelling on this earth, where the Divine met the depraved.  It was the place where humans were able to experience the glory of God, hearing the sound of animals being sacrificed, smelling the smoke of incense, seeing streams of people approach the altar, as they chatter and sing and pray.  The pilgrim could touch cleansing water and taste the leftovers from the offerings.  The temple truly was a five-sense-experience.

This is what Ezekiel is saying in his book by drying up the repetition of that famous line, (“that they might know that I am the Lord”): When you are plunged into the world of the temple, you begin to have knowledge of God.  You see what is so profound about this?  Knowing God is far more than a cerebral activity; God wants you to experience him at every level, as if you were standing right next to the burning altar.  To know God is to be absorbed by him, heart and soul; or, as the Hebrews liked to say, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might” (Deut. 6:5).

Does this means that you have to have a temple in order to know God?  Yes, it does.  While you may not need the physical temple of Ancient Israel, you still need a temple.  Do you have a temple?  Do you have a way of experiencing God so that it’s more than just mere thoughts?

All of this teaches us that God wants to make himself known.  Can you feel the significance of that?  God does not keep to himself, but wants to be The-God-We-Experience.  He wants us to have a temple, a way of knowing him.  He wants to be experienced.

It’s one thing to know that God might exist or that some other people know him.  It’s quite another to walk with him through the dark valley.  It’s one thing to know the definition of “divine,” it’s quite another to surrender your sins to his forgiveness and feel the liberty that he brings.

Do you have a temple?

© Samuel Kee, 2011

A Heart Like His

samuel kee —  January 26, 2011 — Leave a comment

I wish that more people had a heart for others like yours.

This past Sunday, as I was speaking at my church, emergency vehicles suddenly appeared in our parking lot and paramedics raced by the sanctuary windows in order to get inside.  They quickly cared for a man in our congregation who was experiencing dizziness and shortness of breath.  Since he had a history of a heart condition, this man was taken to the emergency room in a matter of minutes.

After Henry was stabilized (that’s not his real name, by the way), his doctor examined him thoroughly, paying special attention to his heart.  I believe, but I could be mistaken, that Henry has a defibrillator implant.  Nonetheless, the doctor concluded that he was fine and that everything was working okay. 

Henry was confused as to why he experienced these sudden symptoms, so he asked his doctor, “Do you think that my shortness of breath could have been caused by a heavy heart?”  Henry went on to explain to the doctor that he had a friend who had lost his job and was going through a really hard time.  He then told his doctor that his pastor (me) was giving a message about those who want to give up on life; Henry started to think about his friend and got really worried about him.  “My heart was heavy for my friend; could that have caused these problems today?”

His doctor agreed that sudden stress does provoke physiological responses, such as when someone faints after hearing startling news.  “Yes, Henry, your heavy heart could have caused the shortness of breath and dizziness.”

Then his doctor added, “Henry, I wish that more people had a heart for others like yours.”

One of my favorite songs (Hillsong United’s Hosanna) has a verse that says, “Break my heart for what breaks yours.”  The songwriter is pleading for a heart that loves like God’s heart loves.  When God looks at our broken world, he gets a “heavy heart”—like Henry’s.  God’s heart breaks for his people, who struggle and mourn. 

I think of Jesus weeping for his friends Mary and Martha, when they were mourning for their brother, Lazarus.  I also think of Jesus crying over an entire city: “When he approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it” (Luke 19:41).

God’s tears for us moved him to action; so he came to us, undressed his glory as God, and clothed himself in humanity.  Being now fully human and fully divine, he bore our sorrows on his soul, so that he might be broken for that which breaks us.  God is not impersonal, but personal.  Even more, he’s powerful.  God is the King who Cares, as my former professor John Feinberg is fond of saying.  Yes, God weeps, but also he is able to do something about the weeping–and he did!

I want to be like Henry.  I want my heart to break for those around me, who struggle and ache.  Then perhaps I would be stirred to action. 

(To hear my sermon and the moment when the ambulence arrived, click here to listen to Someone Is Standing Up for You.)

© 2010 by Samuel Kee