The question of enthrallment

I was talking to a friend yesterday about some of the problems we face when we communicate with our parents. A lot of the people I know (especially the Asians, or immigrants in general) have trouble talking to our parents. Why? I think it's the generational gap in thinking that serves as a barrier. Our parents usually ask questions like "What kind of job can you get with your degree?" or "How much money are you going to make with your job?" Our response is usually something along the lines of "Life isn't just about money or getting ahead" or "I don't care what job I get as long as I'm happy." And the tension between the two generations rise up. While our parent's generation had to deal with "real" problems like poverty and famine, our generation deal with existential problems like "Who am I?" and "What is my purpose?"

Abraham Maslow's hierarchy of needs give us a glimpse into how this works itself out. For people who have to deal with questions of basic needs like "where are we going to get food for tomorrow?," they do not have the time to bother themselves in asking "do I find fulfillment in what I am doing right now?"

And so, we sit through class lectures at university wondering how knowing chemical equations, logical fallacies, and Darwin's evolutionary theory can give us a sense of accomplishment. What is this all about? Is it merely a series of events that culminate with me, walking down the aisle, and getting a piece of expensive paper with letters beside my name? Is this about getting a degree so that I can look/sound better than other people (when really there is no discernible difference between me and others, other than my degree that tells me I know things except I forgot everything after that first mid-term)?

What is our purpose? As Christians, the answer to that question is simple: our purpose is to obey God. After all, we are his servants. His very slaves. But, if we are honest, we have no idea what being a servant/slave means. No friggin' clue at all.

I was watching a show the other day about a man who owns gladiators and slaves. In his desire to exalt himself, he plots and schemes his way to curry the favour of a top Roman official. To entertain him, he gives the Roman official his most prized gladiator to deal with as he wishes. The Roman official, in his depravity, orders the gladiator to commit a morally contemptible act with another slave. The dilemma: the slave is his best friend's wife. But, slaves as they are, they have no choice in the matter but to follow orders. Even when they did not want to. Even when it was something against everything they stand for. They had no choice: they were slaves. They were nothing but property of their master who will deal with them in any manner he so chooses. Their lives are at their master's whim. Such is the life of a slave.

And yet, here comes God, in His infinite goodness, who sees our situation and buys us into a life of goodness. Sin is a cruel slave-owner and the price for getting out is dear and costly. It might even cost someone his own life. Yet, knowing the price for a wretch, God sends His own Son to redeem us, to buy us back from a life of depravity and death. His death in exchange for mine.

Let's pretend this scenario happens: someone who was not worth a dime being bought at a price of someone's own life. If that happened, I feel like I would be so extremely indebted to that person that I would do anything and everything for him. Even if it wasn't demanded of me, the freedom I now enjoy would cause me to celebrate and honour the man who has purchased me. If the one who has bought me would release me from his own power, yet would I not leave his side.

And yet this scenario is not some hypothetical example! This is what happened when Jesus Christ came to die on the cross and was raised from the dead three days later. His crucifixion and resurrection were the very means of our own redemption. Our freedom was gained through the sacrificial Lamb.

Something I'm guilty of, and I fear most of us as well, is how we do not understand the suffering of Christ. The whips, as horrible as they were, could not compare to the anguish of the soul that must have overcome Jesus when the very people he fed and who praised him just days before, were also the same people whose faces were turned against him, pleading and crying out for his death. How lonely and rejected he must have felt when the disciples who lived with him who professed their love for him were the ones who denied knowing he even existed. The physical, emotional and spiritual brutality that was inflicted upon him is incomprehensible. This was not something drawn out in weeks, months, or years. This came so suddenly and so strongly. Were we in that same position, would we not, just like Jesus, cry out "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"

All of this Jesus endured for our sake. Should this not well up within us such feelings of humility, contrition and love for Him? A worm such as I, deserving of nothing, was given everything! I, who owned nothing, am now made co-heirs with the Son of God. I, who was nothing, am adopted into the family of God. The pauper is now made prince! What sheer delight should fill our soul at such a thought! If this God ever tried to get rid of me, if He said to me, Leave my presence!, I have no choice but to let Him know that I shall do no such thing! I have seen what the world offers, and it pales in comparison to what He has shown me. I cannot and will not leave Him even if He should try to rid Himself of me! Such is my love for Him.

Yet, I fear that this is not the case. "Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it/Prone to leave the God I love" is more the refrain of my life. And I have often wondered why? Why is it that despite of everything God has done for me, I so easily wander away from Him?

The answer was simple: God did not enthrall me. When I go to a store and I see the latest gadget, my eyes are fixed, my heart beats faster, and I am enthralled! I want that! I covet that! When my eyes perceive a thing of beauty, my knees go weak, my tongue is stilled, and I am enthralled! I yearn for that! I long for that! The things of this world so easily seduces me with its empty pleasures and empty promises. The problem with idols is that sooner or later, you realize that it wasn't worth it but you've lost everything of worth in the process.

As I gaze upon the wondrous cross, am I left speechless at the sheer agony and pain my Saviour must have endured for me? Do my eyes fill with tears of joy because for once in my life, someone thought I was worth something and showed it to me through the giving of his own life for mine? Does my heart leap with joy at the thought of a lone figure, hanging on a cross, knowing that I put him there and yet he musters up enough strength to stay the hand of his hurting Father and say "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."

And I feel the question linger in the air: this God who has given His all, does He enthrall you? Are you enthralled by the beauty of His majesty? Are you enthralled by the humility of his divinity? Are you enthralled by His love that woos you to Himself?

My heart and mind says Yes, Yes, a thousand times Yes. And yet, my actions say No, No, a million times No.

Oh God, may You be my pleasure, my happiness, my delight. May I be enthralled by You in my very core. May my actions reflect how much You have enthralled me. That even if I have "better things" to do, I will set them aside because I cannot do anything but praise You! May my heart be full of You! May You be my Consuming Desire that urges me to recklessly abandon all I have to please You.

Even so, come, Lord Jesus.

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