On Oneness with Christ

Well!  It's been nearly a month since I last deigned to write a contemplation.  I hope my readers will forgive me. 

Oswald Chambers, whose devotions I read daily, often urges us Christians to surrender our self-awareness in favor of Christ-awareness, to yield up our “right to ourselves” so we might fully yield ourselves to Christ, and to maintain “oneness" with Christ through every moment of the day.  Though I’ve often heard sermons and lessons on obedience and devotion to God, either I haven’t truly understood what that entailed before this year, or Chambers takes it to more radical level than I’ve heard before. 

It’s convicting. 

And daunting.

As with many things, the call to “oneness” is simple in concept but difficult in execution.  We so often want to keep some part of ourselves to ourselves and say, "This is who I am” or “This is what I enjoy; I can't or won't give this up," or even "I don't have to give up everything to belong to Christ," regardless of a still small voice telling us otherwise.  When we go to examine ourselves, the World’s values skew our own, and while our fallen nature makes subtle self-justifications for maintaining our lifestyles and hobbies and thoughts, a harshly self-condemning part of us may wince with guilt at every slight action it—rightly or wrongly—deems sinful.  Thus, reflecting with these opposing desires can muddy any godly conviction, making it hard to tell the difference between our own desires and those of the Holy Spirit.  (Or is it really muddied?  Perhaps we are asking "what should I do?" when we already know the answer and don't want to take action.)

Back to Chambers.

I've felt attracted to and convicted by many phrases on this subject in Chambers' work, but I currently wish to share a certain line from today's devotional: "The statement we so often hear, 'Make a decision for Jesus Christ,' places the emphasis on something our Lord never trusted. He never asks us to decide for Him, but to yield to Him—something very different."  I stopped upon reading this to visualize this distinction.  Rather than reaching out a hand to accept the gift of salvation—to grab and be done with it—Chambers is saying that the life of a Christian is more like opening our arms to let the waiting Christ in—to enjoy a permanent closeness.

From this vision, my mind wandered (as it so often does, unfortunately, but this time it at least wandered along a companion track), refining a scenario in which I envisioned a person explaining this concept, perhaps during a Children’s Moment lesson.  The speaker would bring in a huge, full, and ideally smelly garbage bag and, while holding onto it, ask for a hug.  Naturally, while holding the bag, the speaker couldn’t properly hug back.  Upon the conclusion of the demonstration, he could then explain that when we value and hold on to icky things as if they are of more value than Jesus—things like anger, pride, hobbies, money, or porn (that last would naturally not be in a Children’s Message)—not only can we not properly embrace Jesus, but Jesus wouldn't be too pleased about embracing someone who's holding an icky trash bag.  He’d hug us if we asked, but he’d ask us to give him that smelly bag to throw away—first because it stinks, and second so we can return the embrace.  Extending the metaphor, Jesus would be more pleased if we held onto people instead of trash; Jesus wouldn’t mind hugging the other people in addition to ourselves.  Still, while we must love all people, he cautions us, "Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me" (Matt 10.37 ESV); we mustn't hold onto people so tightly that we cannot embrace Jesus.  (Note—my original image was of holding a colossal teddy bear, which could still work, as some things we hold onto are legitimate and sweet—they're just too big and bulky to allow us to embrace Jesus.

Now, how do we know when we're holding onto garbage versus when it's properly resting in its bin nearby (or holding onto the bear versus when it's on its shelf)?  How do we know if a thing in our life is trash or a bear?  How do we know when it's okay for the trash to be in a nearby bin and when we need to kick it completely out of the house?  That matter is something for each person to contemplate, continually and prayerfully. . . . yet too much inward examination can make us lose touch with the Lord, returning our Christ-awareness to self-awareness.  Better yet, perhaps, to take the plunge, abandon oneself to Christ and not look back.  But then, how does one fill one's free time around work and duty?  "Trust Christ to direct your steps at each moment," is all I can suppose.