Break Your Jar

Lately, I have been reading and thinking a lot about the prophets in the Bible. Job and Jeremiah were sent to prophesy against the evil and idol worship in their city and were unbelievably persecuted for it. There comes a point in Job's lament where he curses the day he was born; thus, echoing Jeremiah's same cry for himself and the people he is interceding for. God sends Jeremiah to speak against the worship of false gods and the people do not want to hear this message. In a turn of events, the people that Jeremiah is praying for actually seek to take his life. They have now become his enemies.

But then, the most powerful part of this story climaxes when God tells Jeremiah to visit a potter. He tells him to purchase a clay jar, go to the Valley of Ben Hinnom, and hold the pot while proclaiming the Lord's message to his people. Through some research on the Valley of Ben Hinnom, I learned that it was actually a graveyard outside the city walls. It was a custom not to bury the Jewish people inside the city walls but rather outside of them. Parents often sacrificed their first born children here to the gods. Jeremiah is called to break the jar in front of everyone. So, this place seems pretty significant in that, Jeremiah is standing (literally) on a place of death and delivering a message of healing. It is counteractive. In a way, he is standing in the gap, in the tension and being God's spokesperson to bring heaven to earth. Jeremiah is bringing people back to a place where death once reigned and is saying "no more". In a way, releasing that jar is like releasing all of the hurt, the child sacrifices, the blood, and the killings in order to make a way for something new. Jeremiah says:

"God will smash this nation and this city just as this potter's jar is smashed and cannot be repaired."

I can physically picture this event happening. Jeremiah takes some of the elders with him as he goes to proclaim this message. This kind of reminds me of people going to a rock concert to hear a musician sing and, instead of singing and music, are suddenly told some powerful news about the musician's life.

Today, I read a passage in the book I Once Was Lost, that referenced Moses holding up the Rod of God. When Moses let his arm down, the battle turned.

"Seems simple enough. But what happens to Moses? He grows weary. At first his friends bring a rock for him to sit on. But even a seemingly simple activity like holding up your arm while seated becomes fatiguing with time. Eventually Aaron and Hur have to come and help Moses hold up his arm.

We, too, need to intercede for our friends. And we, too, need to be reminded not to stop. Not to grow weary. It might not be a bad idea to get an Aaron and Hur of our own - enlisting other people to uphold us as we uphold others at this spiritually intense time."

Jeremiah did not break his clay jar as a spectacle. He was not like the Pharisees who stood on street corners loudly proclaiming Jesus and making a show out of it only to glorify themselves. He did this out of the Holy Spirit's leading, out of genuine humility. And with this, he probably experienced some sort of questioning about God's ability to change things. Haven't we all asked at one time, "Are you sure you know what you are doing? What if this isn't the right way? What if I take this step and it's not what you have called me to?" Yet, when we finally do take that step of risk and of vulnerability, we see God at work - even if the outcome changes.

So all of this makes me ask:

1) Who are my elders or my Aaron(s) and Hur(s)?

2) What does my clay jar represent? What's in it? How would it feel to lift it above my head and break it? If I dared to invite such change into my life, what would it be like?

3) What am I being called to?

I firmly believe that we are all called to something. We all have a greater purpose for being here. This process will probably take some time, discernment, and trusted friends to help you talk through your concerns, fear, and hopes. But in this, know that you are supported and are loved, even as you stand up in the Valley of Ben Hinnom and break your jar in front of everyone to see. This countercultural act may seem bizarre in our world today. Yes, it's true that following the Spirit's leading may bring you to some unheard of or even mundane and simple places. But, it's in this journey that I find myself growing closer to God and seeing things from his perspective as I seek to follow him more and more everyday.

Release Your Balloon

Lately, I have been learning a lot about the word "discernment." At first, the word used to scare me because I could never wrap my mind around it. So while I've had (and continue to have) experience with it, the word itself has become less scary. In fact, it has taken on a certain measure of hope - a likeness revealing God that nothing else compares to.

Two years ago, I felt myself begin this "discernment" process. In some ways, it was almost like learning how to drive a car again without my parents. With it, came a sense of independence but also a sense of maturity, vulnerability, and great responsibility. It is in this place that I felt God really opening myself up to opportunities that I had never considered. To picture myself in such a role really began the influx of questions. God began to water the seed that he planted in me from long ago that I never knew was there and was just longing for water, sunlight, and some TLC. Psalm 139: 13 - 16 explains how intimately God knows me (and all of us) even before we were born.

"For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb.

 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful,

I know that full well.

My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place.

When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body.

All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be."

This weekend at church, a friend talked about the creativity of God. At this moment, I was reminded of a 2 hour silent retreat that I went on in the mountains of New Hampshire. Those who organized the trip distributed a paper to each of us - where one of the tips was to "allow God to be creative with you."

Dallas Willard writes about the creativity of God in his book, The Divine Conspiracy. He says:

"You will know this finding of soul and God is happening by an increased sense of who you are and a lessening of the feeling that you have to do this, that, and the other thing that befalls your lot in life. That harassing, hovering feeling of 'have to' largely comes from the vacuum of your soul, where you ought to be at home with your Father in his kingdom. As the vacuum is rightly filled, you will increasingly know that you do not have to do those things - even those that you want to do."

Even at my homegroup last night, one person shared this helpful analogy. He said to picture a kid that has a bunch of chalk and is told to go outside and draw. Now, give that same chalk to an adult and ask them to draw. They will probably be more concerned with what to draw, the details of the drawing, what others will think of it rather than the innocence and freedom that comes with the child who is told to go and draw whatever he wants.

Very recently, people have been speaking into my life about this very topic - discernment (and may not have realized it) through text messages from friends I haven't heard from in a while, conversations, and interactions. And, I've begun to experience and feel a sense of rightness and peace about my purpose in life. Ecclesiastes 3 says that:

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:

a time to be born and a time to die,

a time to plant and a time to uproot,

a time to kill and a time to heal,

a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to weep and a time to laugh,

a time to mourn and a time to dance,

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,

a time to embrace and a time to refrain,

a time to search and a time to give up,

a time to keep and a time to throw away,

a time to tear and a time to mend,

a time to be silent and a time to speak,

a time to love and a time to hate,

a time for war and a time for peace."

For so long, I've tried to plan every facet of my life. And God is telling me to stop doing his job. To give all of my planning, hopes, and dreams over to him and his mighty hands. For those who have never experienced this before - it's hard to put into words. But, there is this sense of freedom that comes with releasing the balloon in the air, watching it make formations with the clouds that it never did when I was holding tightly onto it, and abandoning itself to a land greater than my own.

So, I do see myself (at this point in my life) as the balloon. I know that once I let go of all that I've been trying to control and plan - then God can work in my life. The rest, is a beautiful creation of the potter molding the clay, of Ebenezer's built to God, of a song sung completely out of tune yet sounding beautiful to my Maker's ears.

And all done with a heart of love, favor, and surrender to the Most High God.