Ann Voskamp, in her new book, Loved to Life, points to John the Baptist’s famous, “Look! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!”
Voskamp (emphasis added).
“The lifting of eyes to look to the Lamb of God — this lifting that even the weariest among us can do.
And yet, in the paradox of all things true, the way we turn our eyes may actually be the hardest of all.
Because focusing the eyes is always a matter of how we focus the heart.
Where the eyes are fixed, so the heart is…. Where you look is where you love.
Looking on what your hands can do, looking to what your work is working on, looking to what all your striving is reaching for does little to no good at all. You don’t have to know what to do, but just decide: Lord, Lamb of God, ‘our eyes are on you.’ (2 Chronicles 20:12).
Where you look will save — or smother — your life.”
Think about that phrase: “Where you look will save – or smother – your life.”
Yeah, absolutely.
A famous moment from Scripture comes when Peter looks to Christ and walks on water; then suddenly looks away, below, at the dread of the sea’s depth, and “was terrified and began to sink.”
Instead of the supernatural, he saw the natural and the natural is bleak and will destroy even the strongest of us (physical death being its ultimate conclusion).
Peter’s example is useful, but obviously dramatic, and we often don’t think of our everyday in terms of that drama.
But we’re engaged in the same struggle, trying to walk on water, with the same perverse, deep water ready, wanting to sink us, and how many of us feel we’re drowning? Not just in a moment, as Peter. But for long stretches. I do. Even now as I write. Last night, as I went to bed. More nights than I can count.
And we often drown silently, to ourselves, and indeed, the physical act of drowning isn’t about screaming as often portrayed – it’s famously deadly because it silently takes the swimmer.
And so, you and I often drown in silence because that’s the way most humans do. Alone. To ourselves.
Why is it often alone? Many reasons.
For one, I think it’s particularly difficult to share with other Christians, because we feel extra guilt from confiding to the faith community: “I’m drowning,” because Christians are supposed to be “more than conquerors,” we’re supposed to walk on water because we’ve given ourselves to the one who did, we’re supposed to have the Spirit inside us and therefore, “I’m no longer a slave to fear.”
And yet, we fail more than we conquer. We sink more than we walk on water. At least I do. Maybe you don’t. But I sure do.
And that’s part of the deal.
In his famous parable of the sower, Jesus said that when hard times comes, the faithless will be exposed and disappear from Christianity entirely. Not just for a moment, but forever.
The hard times will come – that’s a promise (“in this world you will have tribulation”) – but what we need to focus on is that, yes, maybe we failed and maybe we sank, but at some point, we looked up and no matter when we look up — whether it’s when we’re partially submerged or even in the belly of Jonah’s whale (“When my life was ebbing away, I remembered you, Lord”) — God will never turn his face from us. He will always make a way for us to make it to land again, dry, under the sun.
No matter how many times we drown– as long as we end the matter by looking up, well, looking up is where the thief was and Jesus said, “Today you’ll be with me in paradise.”
I’m middle-aged, but realistically, I’m on the back-end of my life and we never really know, do we, and I wish I could say that I’ve gotten better at this faith thing than twenty or thirty years ago.
But I haven’t.
But the Lord has kept me in his arms, even though I’m still just as needy and dependent and prone to wander as I ever was.
Brennan Manning’s memoir All is Grace says it all in the title.
And remember this song about grace:
“Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far
And grace will lead me home.”
If you struggle with depression, anxiety, or any other such disorders — for readers in the United States…
Find a psychiatrist here.
Find a therapist here.
For readers, internationally, seek help from a local resource.
For salvation, Christ and Christ alone.
[PS This blog is a politics-free zone (personally, I don’t think Jesus would identify with sides and notably refused to be drawn into the political issues of the day], and so I’m reluctant to put any political figure on here, but this performance of “Amazing Grace” by former president Obama has always moved me – the way that, at first, the audience isn’t entirely sure whether he’s being serious, but the former POTUS shows, no sings, that it’s an Amazing Grace moment. Such a powerful song.
CBS has a good read on why “Amazing Grace” remains one of the most universally-known and loved songs, regardless of faith, actually. It’s about humanity, in our truest form. We are all entirely reliant on grace. Every human knows that. And so we all feel the song when we hear it. I read or saw somewhere [perhaps a review of this book] that Christians — in trying to “sweetify” our hymns — made a brief effort to change the word “wretch” to something less “sordid.” But…. that didn’t fly. And not because of stiff, conservative theological resistance, but because — even among non-believers — the song loses its power without the truth of “wretch.” Grace doesn’t resonate as deeply unless contrasted with wretch, and every human has felt a wretch, and by the grace of God, when we feel that way, may we all look up because it’s the only place where the wretch can find someone who sees us as we don’t – created, loved, and longed for.]
