During the last presidential elections in the
US, I was facilitating a discipleship training school on “Listening to
God.” About half of these college-age students were Americans, evenly
split by Republican and Democrat polarizations.
One evening, we were watching the movie video, “The Mission,” a
story of colonialism, missions, and exploitation in South America.
Issues of social justice and spirituality drew us into a debriefing
afterwards. I asked, “What were the turning points in the faith journey
of Rodrigo?” (A character played by Robert Deniro who converts from
mercenary slave-trader to Jesuit missionary).
The students
suggested a variety of spiritual landmarks. Eric, a young man from
North Carolina put up his hand and offered innocently, “When the native
child gave Rodrigo his sword back.” Without thinking, I responded, “Of
course that was a negative turning point.” Eric was surprised, “Why
would you say that?” I was a little staggered and answered, “Well,
given that Jesus told Peter, ‘Put away your sword. Those who live by
the sword, die by the sword…’” We both paused to gawk at each other,
jolted into awareness of our radically different paradigms. I suggested
that we break for the evening and that Eric spend some time just
reading the red letters in his Bible, letting Christ’s own words test
his assumptions, rather than bringing my biases into play. He agreed
and that was that.
Over the next few days, Eric confessed that the words of Jesus
were angering him, forcing him to wrestle with God as he slogged
through Christ’s Sermon on the Mount and beyond. In the context of post
9/11 life in America, he was finding Jesus’ message of peace actually
offensive. “Keep reading,” was my only advice.
One morning, I sent the students off to work through a simple
listening prayer exercise: if our hearts are like temples for the Lord,
would God show us a vision of that temple and then meet us there.
Afterwards, Eric handed me his prayer notes and gave me permission to
reprint them here:
When I asked Jesus to show me the temple of my heart, he
brought me to the inner chamber of what looked like a Mayan Ziggurat.
The room was dark and the walls were made of stone. A dark red rug led
to a throne against the far wall. Two torches, one on either side of
the throne, lit up the room. The throne itself was that of a mighty
king and upon it sat Jesus Christ. Hanging from the walls of the temple
was an assortment of weapons: swords, hammers, whips, axes, maces, and
all other implements of medieval warfare.
At this point, I tried to look into the face of Jesus, but a
court jester was in the way. He was juggling balls and blocking my
view. I actually recognized him as a team member who I am angry with
because his clowning annoys me. Now I was upset because his antics were
obstructing my path to Jesus.
I could see Jesus holding out a goblet of wine, but could not
see his face, so I became very frustrated. I wanted to take a mace from
the wall and bash the jester in the head, but was unable to remove it.
I asked Jesus how to get rid of this jester who blocked my view, to
which he replied, “Humble yourself, take the cup from my hand, and
serve the jester.” I obeyed, and having received the wine, the jester
left the temple.
After this, several small children came into the temple where
they sat at the feet of Jesus’ throne, listening to him together. At
this point, I asked Jesus what the weapons on the wall meant. What are
they for? He said, “They aren’t for anything. They are relics from your
past, but they are no longer meant to be used.”
As I continued to try looking into the face of Christ, the
whole temple was filled with a very bright light. When the light
touched the weapons, they melted and disappeared. I was filled with
confusion and anger. I cried out, “How can we go on without our
weapons? What kind of people will we be? What kind of a king will you
be?” I found myself offended by a king who had renounced military
might. Could I serve someone so weak?
At this point, Jesus’ face, which had been obscure to me,
began to come into focus until it was very clear. It was a face filled
with victory! His features radiated strength, might, honour, and
authority. He was not powerless at all! There he sat, a victorious king
on his mighty throne, and I was filled with confidence in his victory.
I looked at the bare walls of my heart-temple and realized that it—that
I—belonged to him. This was my King and I would obey his call to follow.
Psalm 20 (NKJV) May the LORD answer you in the day of
trouble; May the name of the God of Jacob defend you; May He send you
help from His temple, And strengthen you out of Zion; May He remember
all your offerings, And accept your burnt sacrifice. May He grant you
according to your heart’s desire, And fulfill all your purpose. We will
rejoice in your salvation, And in the name of our God we will set up
our banners! May the LORD fulfill all your petitions. Now I know that
the LORD saves His anointed; He will answer him from His holy heaven
With the saving strength of His right hand. Some trust in chariots,
and some in horses; But we will remember the name of the LORD our God.
They have bowed down and fallen; But we have risen and stand upright.
Save, LORD! May the King answer us when we call.