Finding Discontent
Matthew 5:6
Since
the dawn of time humanity has scrambled for the elusive feeling of
contentment. Eve was evidently
discontent with her level of knowledge, so when she found the fruit of the
forbidden tree would make her wiser, she ate it. The Children of Israel thought
contentment was in getting what they wanted, in their way, on their timetable.
So they decided to do their own thing instead of God’s and ended up wandering
the desert. We are not so very
different. Our selfish “now” society
continues to believe that contentment can be bought, finagled, or earned. So the discontented search for contentment
rages on. Adults are constantly striving
for it. Kids think they are entitled to
it. For some ridiculous reason, everyone
seems to think contentment is found in possessions, social status, money or
fame.
Have
you ever stopped to ask yourself, “How content am I?” and followed up with, “In
what does my contentment lie?” If we are honest, we realize that contentment
does not come from staggering piles of possessions, the number of friends on
your Facebook page, or the respectful adulation of your peers. If we look hard
enough, we may even realize that being content isn’t always best. Recently,
when posed with the question myself, I realized that, although I may be content
with my material possessions, I am indeed consumed with voracious discontent. It is
consistent. It is persistent. And it is
resistant to the things that try to dull it, eradicate it, or distract it. It
is not the possessions kind of discontent. No, it’s the holy kind. The kind of discontent that caused Jacob, as
he wrestled with the angel of God at Penial (Genesis 32:26) to cry out, “I will
not let you go unless you bless me.”
An
interesting story, that. In the Genesis 32 account, it tells us that Jacob,
after his meeting with Esau, sent his family, servants, and belongings across
the brook and stayed alone through the night. During the night an angel came
and wrestled with and at (v.22-24) nearly dawn, the angel said, “Let me
go. It’s nearly day break.” And Jacob
said (pardon my paraphrase), “Nope. Not without a blessing.” And he got one. Do you ever feel that way? When you feel spiritually dry, complacent,
lacking zeal, do you hit your knees and say to God, “I’m not done here until
you move in me, change me, bless me.” Do
you find yourself filled with holy discontent?
I often do.
I hope you do too. I find myself
consistently praying the words of David in Psalm 63:8, “My soul follows hard
after thee…” The words speak of hot
pursuit. Unwavering determination. Intense hunger. Earlier in the same Psalm David verbally paints
how he is seeking God, how his soul thirsts for God, how he longs for God as a
man parched in the desert. These word
pictures embody the concept of holy discontent. It is not mediocre
Christianity. It is not a “ho-hum”
attitude about God. It is not a
secondary activity. It is a constant desire,
an intense thirst, a consuming hunger for more of God. It’s seeking him and finding him, and then
seeking him more. It is never having
enough, never being close enough; it is following hard after God.
We
should all be so desperately discontent.
It is paramount to our Christian walk.
When we start to feel content with where we are spiritually, we let up. The zeal lessens. Complacency sets in. The things of life—even
the good, appropriate things—crowd in and we are in extreme danger of drifting
off course. For me, holy discontent is the path to contentment. When I am
discontent with where I am spiritually, I am consistently seeking God, drawing
closer to him, growing in him, and allowing him to make me the Godly person he
wants me to be. In seeking after
Godliness, I find contentment.
In
I Timothy 6, the Apostle Paul tells Timothy not to listen to those who do not
preach the true doctrine of Jesus Christ unto godliness. Along with a list of things these individuals
are incorrect about, they believe that gain equals godliness. Sounds familiar….things really haven’t
changed! But then Paul writes in verse 6, “Godliness with contentment is great
gain…” and in verse 8 he goes on to state that if you have food and clothing,
you should be content. It means that we
should be constantly striving to maintain and increase godliness in our lives,
be grateful for what we have, and ultimately remember that the search for
contentment outside of Godliness is a treasure-less search. Holy discontent keeps us urgently seeking
God’s face, constantly striving to have more of Jesus, and regularly praying,
“I will not let you go until you bless me.”
Have
you been there? Have you found yourself
spiritually dry, lacking joy, complacent?
Have you suddenly realized the zeal is gone? Did you look up and notice that you weren’t
in that special place discussed in Psalm 91:1 where it says, “…He that dwelleth
in the secret place of the most High, shall abide under the shadow of the
Almighty?” Did you drift a little off
course? Did you get out of His shadow? I’ve been there. We all have.
The question is this, when you realized you were off course did you find
yourself filled will holy discontent?
And did you rush to Jesus and beg a blessing?
My
inward questioning about my contentment made me realize that my holy discontent
was not confined to my own spirituality. I am discontent with things I see
around me. You are too. I hear people
all over the place discussing politics, education, drugs, gangs, poverty and
myriad other annoyances about our world. What do you see in this world that
makes you feel discontent? Homelessness?
Immorality? Abuse? Let me tell you what
I see. I see people lost in sin and degradation. Wanderers looking for hope, help, home. I see physically destructive teens, kids on
drugs, and eight year old gang members.
I see people who have given up on themselves because no one made the
effort to believe in them and bolster their courage. I see addicts, prostitutes, abusers. I see wasted years. I see prisons overflowing
with individuals who have made bad choices.
I see hate, violence, anger, prejudice.
These
are not the most appalling things I see.
For just on the outside fringes of these clusters of wandering souls, I
see churches content to stay outside the fray.
I see parishioners in their Sunday finery who are all too happy to
continue their “us four and no more” mentality.
They sit in church and give lengthy diatribes on how awful things are
and how surely the end must be nigh, but then they go merrily off to lunch, or
Grandma’s house, or the grocery store and never stop to think of how many souls
would be eternally lost if it all ended today. I see no movement to do anything
about it. I see no burden for the
lost. I see no outreach. I see no one willing to sacrifice their time
or resources to make a difference.
I
am shocked that they would be so complacent about missing out on what I know to
be a fantastic reward. Back when dinosaurs roamed the earth, I did a
couple years at a Bible college in the heart of Cincinnati, Ohio. From our windows, up on that hill, you could
pretty much see the “Over the Rhine” area—the place where the city had
attempted to corral its “untouchables”.
It was while there that I had some of the most rewarding service moments
of my life. We passed out tracts, had
several downtown missions where we held Sunday services, and, my personal
favorite, a jail ministry. One of the staff members also served as a chaplain
at the county jail. I was blessed to be
part of his team of service workers. We
visited the jail every Sunday morning and held services on different
floors. Some Sundays I would continue
with him in the afternoon and evening when we would visit individuals who had
requested a private visit with the chaplain.
All of it altered my view, but those individual visits changed my
life.
In
those visits, we saw those people as just that—people. Lost?
For sure. But still people. We sat there and talked and prayed with an
AIDS ridden prostitute, a drug addict mother, white collar offenders, and
everyone in between. Each was loved, valued, ministered to and prayed
over. That chaplain taught
me the most important lesson of my life.
We are all just people, no matter what we are, what we have done, or where
we’ve been. We are all desperately loved
by God. And we are all commanded by God
to love one another—no exclusions. No
prejudice. No hate. No anger. So when I
look out and see that we are not indiscriminately reaching out to gather the
lost, I am overwhelmed with holy discontent.
I
wish I could rejoin that group of ministers at the Hamilton County Justice
Center. Sadly, I cannot. But I can do something where I am. So can you.
We just have to decide to do it. If your excuse is “I don’t know what to
do”…ask God to show you. If your excuse
is “I don’t know where to serve”…ask God to guide you. If you don’t feel a particular burden to
serve…ask God to give you one. Don’t
just fill a pew, mark your time, and think you won’t be held responsible for
not fulfilling your part of Jesus’ command in Mark 16:15, “Go ye into all the
world, and preach the gospel to every creature.”
And
don’t be deceived into thinking that he only meant go out to other places
besides America. For some, it does mean
that. For all, it means go out of your comfort zone, out of your social circle,
out of your way to make sure that everyone has the opportunity to meet Jesus,
to know his love, and to experience forgiveness for sins. You are a missionary. You can see people dying around you. You can see a world full of sin. Don’t just sit and bemoan the state of
society. Don’t just wallow in holy
discontent—get off your duff and do something!
That’s
really the crux of it all, isn’t it? Do something!! When you feel discontent with where you are
spiritually—and I hope you do often—do something about it. Read more Scripture. Read some Philip Yancey, Dietrich Bonhoeffer,
Brennan Manning, Joyce Meyer. Spend more
time in prayer. Pray for a blessing, but
don’t stop there. Pray for the people in
the accident you saw on the way home from work.
Pray for the homeless guy on the corner. Pray for the kids who visit the
local youth center today. Pray for
people who think they don’t need prayer.
Then go out and do something for Jesus. Be about the Father’s business. Follow
the command of Luke 19:13, and occupy till He comes.
I
hope we do it. May we refuse to settle
for smoldering coals. May we be consumed
by fires of holy discontent that burn so brightly, so hotly that we are forced
closer to Jesus, more deeply burdened for our fellow man, and constantly
challenged to do more, be more than we ever have before. May we, like the Apostle Paul, “Press toward
the mark for the prize of the high calling of God…” (Philippians 3:14) May we be laborers together with Christ. May we always be filled with holy discontent.
May we hear its call and respond with Samuel, “Speak, Lord, your servant is
listening.”
What is your holy discontent urging you to
do? Will you do it?
