“The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People” by Stephen Covey is so popular that many evangelicals use it as a blueprint for disciples. How many, I wonder, are aware that Covey’s Mormon faith underlies his success-building philosophy? It is called the doctrine of “eternal progression”—an upward-spiraling development of the human soul that spells success and perfection, and leads to one's own deity.
Why has this self-help, you-can-be-a-better person view point found such wide acceptance among evangelicals? Is it because it fits better into what they would like to believe? One thing I have observed is that those who expound on messages of success seldom teach the harder things of discipleship—like brokenness, suffering, humility, or delay. An unbiblical view of success and prosperity has the potential to do more damage to one's faith than almost any other misunderstood doctrine.
This is a heads-up to any one who doesn't know that a week from today is “Plow Monday,” the start of the English agricultural year. Of course, no good farmer needs to be told this. He knows the time to plow, or plant. Just imagine if he
didn’t.
Not being much of a farmer, I thought 2013 was my season for planting. Altha and I had moved to
a new home, new state, ready for ‘new’ things. But then, God began plowing. Familiar with Hosea’s words “It is
time to break up your fallow [unplowed] ground” (Hosea 10:12), I figured I had
some hard soil that needed breaking up before I could be fully productive! Little did I know how much!
But, God is the archetypal agronomist—who “instructs the farmer and
teaches him the right way to plow” (Is 28:24). While I do not fully
understand everything, I know He cares enough not to leave me fallow. When David was in turmoil, he said, “I have calmed (meaning to "level or make smooth") my
soul” (Ps. 131:2). When the plowing starts, will you take calm in your Heavenly Father's horticultural wisdom?
U.S. and Russian diplomats began meeting this week to head off a U.S. military strike against Syria. But is it ‘peacemaking’
or ‘placating?’ The difference? Placators try to lessen conflict by avoiding and appeasing. Peacemakers stand for truth even if it stirs up feelings. According to Jesus, the word of truth can divide people like a
“sword” (Matt 10:34). A true peacemaker will never compromise truth just to “get
along.”
The fact is, however, “peacemaking”
is very personal. Indeed, who of us has not been relationally
challenged to seek peace when “conciliation” would be so much easier? (Peacemaking can be messy!) Making it even more challenging, peacemaking only works if each party is seeking peace on God’s terms—unconditional surrender to His will. Is there a lesson for us here?
Placating will produce a fix, but only temporarily. Whether among nations or between best friends, placating will only “heal the hurt superficially, declaring
‘Peace, peace,' when there is no peace” (Jer. 6:14). Be on your guard; the antichrist will call himself a 'man of peace' (Dan. 8:25). But he will be a placator.
The real danger in being full of yourself is that the Holy Spirit is unable to fill you. If you don’t realize you are full of yourself, the Lord has His methods of revealing it to you—which generally involve some kind of breaking! Whoever stubbornly refuses to accept criticism will suddenly be broken beyond repair (Prov. 29:1). Paradoxically, God is not looking for unblemished, un-cracked bottles to fill up, but broken ones.
The Old Testament is replete with stories of broken people: Jacob, broken before He could receive God’s blessing; Joseph ,nearly destroyed by 14 years of wrongful imprisonment; and Moses, broken of reliance on his education and upbringing. And who could forget David, broken by years of conflict and rejection. Then in the New Testament, there was Paul, the persecuted persecutor, and Peter, whose self-confidence had to be shattered before he was filled and empowered at Pentecost.
Men who refused to be broken end up shipwrecking their faith, and worse, the faith of others. The Church doesn’t need greater preachers and teachers, more Christian radio programs, a newer translation of the Bible, or bigger churches. But more broken men and women so God can "fill [them] with good things" (Ps. 81:10). Are we willing to be broken bottles?
My Belizean friend wrote to me recently: “I guess that the Good Lord has come to hear the crying of the few, and now He is moving.” I thought about his words 'the crying of the few.' "Yes," I thought, "but how few are crying these days." Immediately the story of Nehemiah came to mind: When I heard these words, I sat down and wept and mourned for days (1:4a). What caused Nehemiah’s sorrow? Learning that the Jews who had returned to Judah were disgraced by the condition of Jerusalem—its outer walls broken. The same word “broken” is used in Psalm 51:17 for a "broken” heart.
Nehemiah’s heart was broken over the condition of God’s people. And when Nehemiah arrived in Jerusalem some months later, not only did he rebuild the broken walls, he ‘restored’ the broken people. The Bible says as he read the Law, the people recognized their sinful condition and wept (Neh. 8:9).
Where is the weeping of God’s people today? Why is my own heart not more broken over the condition of God’s people in our age? Why are we not more grieved over the way this disparages the Lord’s reputation? Perhaps it is time to regard the words of James: Let there be tears for the wrong things you have done. Let there be sorrow and deep grief. Let there be sadness instead of laughter, and gloom instead of joy. Then, James immediately provides us with this promise of hope: When you bow down before the Lord and admit your dependence on him, he will lift you up and give you honor (James 4:9-10 NLT). But let me end with an even more positive note. After the Jews had wept, confessed, and repented, Nehemiah said: Do not be grieved [anymore], for the joy of the Lord is your strength (Neh. 8:10).
One of my young friends is going through a ‘fiery ordeal,” explained by Peter as necessary “for your testing.” Peter reminds us to “not be surprised … as though some strange thing were happening to you” (1Pe 4:12). But it seems we often are taken by surprise, aren’t we! After I had counseled my young friend how to pray during his test, I realized I had forgotten to tell him this important thing: to pray for brokenness!
The story of the Hebrews’ arrival in Canaan illustrates the principle of brokenness. Before taking possession of the Promised Land, God required every man to be circumcised. Canaan represents our victorious life in Christ. Circumcision represents dependence on God. The cutting of the flesh symbolizes their death to natural strength. Likewise, before you can enter your “Canaan,” you must be “broken” of your self-life, allowing God to expose and cut out everything that remains of your natural strength and self-determination. Afterward, you will be ‘enlarged’ by your trial.
King David knew brokenness was God’s way of enlarging his life (Ps. 18:36; 119:32). Whenever you are about to break through to your “larger place,” God will need to cut deeply into the bone, tissue, and muscle of your pride, false confidence, and self-reliance. He loves you too much to let you go into Canaan with your natural weapons, for they would surely sabotage you, and bring about your defeat. Let God break you. Let God’s knife do its work. “For the word of God is full of living power. It is sharper than the sharpest knife, cutting deep into our innermost thoughts and desires. It exposes us for what we really are” (Hebrews 4:12).
