Freedom

The freedom of adults

    Thinking about freedom as the Fourth of July approaches. Wondering who has greater freedom, children or adults? Most kids would say grown-ups do. They can go wherever they want to, whenever they want to. They can spend their money any way they choose. They can stay up late and watch whatever TV shows and movies they like best. They can tell their children what to do and enforce obedience.

    Most adults would say we do. We can choose our careers and employers and spouses. We can decide which house to buy or which apartment to rent. We can move to any part of the country or the world. We can buy the clothes that we like and the car that fits our wants and needs. We can determine what and when and where to eat. We can vote.

    But those freedoms are far more limited than I ever thought they would be as I was growing up. Even if I’m able to get a college degree, I might not find a job in my field. The man I fall in love with might not love me back. I might not have the money to move where I want to or to buy the house or car that I’ve got my eye on. And do I really have that many options in voting?

The freedom of children

    What did Jesus mean when He said to become like little children? I’ve always heard that He meant to have a childlike trust in God. But maybe another way to look at it includes relishing the freedom that childhood brings.

    In some ways, children have more freedom than adults do. Kids are free to live in a house that someone else has provided. They don’t have to do the math to figure out whether they can afford it, or decide when it’s time to replace a worn-out appliance, or oversee the cooking and cleaning and yard work.

    Children are free to eat the food that someone else has purchased and prepared. They don’t have to make sure they have the ingredients and the pans and the dishes and the skills and the time and the money to put that meal on the table.

    Children don’t have to plan for their futures yet. They have a natural trust in the adults who care for them that frees them from anxiety and worry. They don’t have to go looking for love—it’s right there in their homes.

    The younger the child, the more freedom they enjoy in expressing their emotions. As we grow older, we learn more appropriate behavior, more self-control, more restraint. A baby cries vigorously when he’s hungry or wet or tired. If a three-year-old is equally dramatic, we call it a tantrum, an unacceptable form of expression.

    Children are free from the anxiety and stress of having to be the strong one in the family. When my friend’s marriage ended due to her husband’s adultery, she felt an intense pressure to be strong for their kids. She didn’t have the freedom to pour out her grief, her bitterness, her pain to the same degree that they did. She knew they needed to be able to vent all their emotions to her, including their anger and disappointment for any mistakes that she might have made in the marriage. But it wasn’t a two-way street.

Becoming a little child

    Can I become like a little child in God’s eyes in the sense of experiencing the freedoms of childhood? I have some responsibilities for meeting my own needs and ministering to others, but do I take on more burdens than He intends for me to bear?

    Just as adults provide the necessities for their children, God cares enough to meet my daily needs (Matthew 6). I have a part in making that happen, in the same sense that children often contribute to the household in whatever little ways they can. But I can be free from the anxiety of worrying about tomorrow.

    I don’t have to go looking for love, the way young adults search for a life-long romantic relationship. I’m free to rest in the joy of knowing the surpassing love of Christ. It’s with me wherever I go, whatever I do.

    I can express my emotions freely with God. This is a tough one. I began learning from a very early age when and where venting is inappropriate. But is it ever inappropriate with God? Evangelically-correct believers often say yes. The Israelites complained to Moses when they ran out of water on the way to the Promised Land. Their grumbling was described as testing the Lord (Exodus 17:1-7). Therefore we should never complain.

    But God knows our thoughts and our hearts. If I’m feeling secretly resentful about the conditions in my life, I can never hide that from Him, no matter how hard I try. I can pour it out freely to Him, as a child voices his disappointments and fears and anger and everything else to a trusted parent.

    If I’m truly abiding in Christ as I do this, I’ll learn and grow from the experience. My emotions themselves will mature. I’ll become less susceptible to disappointment and fear and unhappiness. But as long as I’m living in this body, I have the freedom to bring all my cares and feelings to Him. As Sam Williamson writes, “God rebukes Israel for grumbling to each other, but he actually gives us words in the Psalms to say those same thoughts to him.”

    I have the freedom to be weak. I don’t have to be the strong one who has all the answers, who makes all the right decisions, who takes charge in difficult situations. God can handle that. I have the responsibility to do my best to follow His leading, but He is so much stronger and wiser than I will ever be.

    I am a child in relation to God. As my parents cared for me when I was young and bore the weight that was too heavy for me, so my heavenly Father provides for me and frees me from the responsibilities that I can’t handle. I still have to carry the part of the load that belongs to me, but Jesus says that His yoke is easy and His burden is light (Matthew 11:30). My tendency is to magnify that burden with anxiety and self-importance, instead of resting in His assurance that the truth will set me free, and that in Him I can be free indeed (John 8:32, 36).

Sing Unto the Lord a New Song

Two songs, two styles

    Sang two songs back-to-back in virtual church on Sunday: “Great is Thy Faithfulness” and “10,000 Reasons (Bless the Lord).” “Great is Thy Faithfulness” is all about God. His faithfulness, His unchanging nature, His compassion, His eternal nature, His mercy, His provision, His love, His forgiveness, His peace, His presence, His cheer, His guidance, His strength, His hope, His blessings. This faithfulness is “unto me,” so the song has a personal application. But the main focus is on God, not on us.

    Then there’s “10,000 Reasons (Bless the Lord).” For the first three stanzas, I’m mainly singing about myself. I bless the Lord, I worship, I sing. There’s only one mention of God’s character—He’s holy. It’s not until the fourth stanza that we sing about any of His other attributes: His rich love, His slowness to anger, His kindness, His goodness. The words say more about me than about Him. Is this really worship?

    In “Changing Churches,” I wrote about the struggles seniors face today as the songs they know and love are being replaced and forgotten. I freely admit to my preference for the old hymns, but it’s not just an unfounded bias or my discomfort with change (which I also freely admit to). I have a real concern about what we’re communicating. Are we here to glorify God for all of who He is, or only for what He does for me? This issue becomes even more urgent in times of nationwide suffering, as with the devastation caused by the current pandemic.

    And yet, some of the Contemporary Christian Music (CCM) that we’ve used in church in recent years has had a powerful impact on me. Much as I’d sometimes like to, I can’t just rant about going back to the good old ways from the good old days. I’ve been forced to recognize that there is a time and a place and a purpose for most CCM, including “10,000 Reasons (Bless the Lord).”

    The book of Psalms is a compilation of songs and prayers that the Jewish people have used in worship for thousands of years. While many of them provide a more in-depth description of who God is and what He’s done (like “Great is Thy Faithfulness”), some of them simply voice the worshippers’ awe and joy as we praise Him, without providing details about His character (like “10,000 Reasons”). God chose to include both kinds in His authoritative Word. And all of them come from a deeply personal perspective, which is more common in CCM than in the old hymns.

The ministry of the hymns

    During my first depressive episode many years ago, the theology presented in the hymns was crucial to keeping me strong enough to resist the draw of suicide. I needed to know who this God is that I was depending on to see me through. I needed to know the richness and depth of His character. I needed to know that He transcends all my understanding and all my expectations. I needed to know that He has a greater purpose that goes far beyond my little life, even as He treasures and watches over that little life. Then I could know that He is big enough and powerful enough to handle something as dark and scary as suicidal depression.

    Putting this theology to music added a dimension that’s missing in the spoken or written word alone. I was often so moved by the lyrics and the melody combined that I couldn’t sing for the lump in my throat. I grew in strength and in my relationship with God as a direct result of those hymns. Today, in the crisis triggered by the coronavirus outbreak, we need this kind of strengthening.

The ministry of CCM

    Yet at the same time, I was listening to the CCM of the day on Christian radio. It ministered to me in a different way. It wasn’t as heavy on theology, which is probably why we weren’t using it in church, but it expressed much of what I was struggling with and helped me to work through it. Another source of growth.

    Fast forward to more recent years. We first sang the CCM song “Jesus Draw Me Ever Nearer” shortly after I’d been blindsided by the situation that I described in “Wounded by God.” God seemed so far away. My greatest need was for Him to draw me nearer and nearer. I wasn’t getting there by my own efforts or through the usual Sunday morning worship. Suddenly, with these words, with this song, I had a much-needed breakthrough.

    The opening verse of “Jesus Draw Me Ever Nearer” created a vivid mental image of being lost and alone in the middle of nowhere during a torrential downpour. That’s how I was feeling when the pastor introduced it. That’s how many are feeling today. It reminded me that, even for a Christian, sometimes life is hard work. Sometimes we have to “labor through the storm,” and it’s okay for us to admit that. The evangelically correct tend to deny it.

    Like many of the psalms, this song is a prayer. It’s a means of pouring out our souls to God in pain and supplication. It confirms that my heart’s testing will continue right up to the moment that I die. It’s not a request for relief from the struggles, but a desire for His presence and my growth as they continue. The theology of suffering, the crying out in sorrow, the pleading for His help and guidance—all set to music that amplifies their message—met my need better than any of the words I’d been trying to come up with on my own.

    A few weeks later, we sang “Whom Shall I Fear (God of Angel Armies)” for the first time. It starts off with a calm and easy reflection on God as our Light and Sword and Shield, along with the question, “Whom shall I fear?,” repeated for emphasis.

    Then it bursts into the confident declaration that I’m surrounded on all sides by God’s presence and His armies of angels. The melody powerfully supports the message, communicating certainty and strength. At that point, at that time, I desperately needed to be reminded of that strength. Many people need that same reminder right now.

    In His wisdom and grace, God used these two CCM songs to comfort and sustain me in a special way. But even after all these years of thinking and praying through the issues in the “worship wars,” I still struggle with the conflict between the older hymns and the newer “praise and worship” songs. I struggle with that label, because praise and worship should be God-centered and God-focused, and so often the lyrics are more about me than they are about Him.

    Yet He can obviously use even our flawed attempts at glorifying Him through music. (Has any song sung in any church ever been perfect?) No matter how much I’m tempted to grumble and criticize on the outside, deep down inside I’m truly thankful for both hymns and CCM, and for the ways that they’ve both helped me to grow in Christ over the years. I pray that they would both continue to minister to worshipers around the world as we labor through the storms brought on by COVID-19.