I confess. I had planned and promised to write more on personhood this month. But I dare not. My thoughts on the subject aren't yet formed. And I'm not yet ready to write them.

The first of the year has found me spent, for a number of reasons, but top among them: the six-year pursuit of an impossible assignment that has now resulted in the book, We Confess! The Civil War, the South, and the Church.

All month long, I've reminded the Lord I needed to write this article. Now, finally, I've listened, and he is saying, "No, you don't need to write an article. You need to rest."

While I rest, here are some thoughts on that very subject, originally written in 2006.

Deborah P. Brunt

  

You've missed a treat if you haven't heard the lively song recorded by Rascal Flatts, named "Backwards." Its lyrics describe a conversation between two guys "in a barbeque joint in Tennessee." One asks reflectively: "Ya wanna know what ya get when you play a country song backwards?"

 

For maximum enjoyment, listen to the song yourself. But the answer, in a nutshell, is this: You get everything back - including your house, your dog, your best friend AND your mind, your nerves, your life.

 

I laughed out loud on hearing this song for the first time. But though it is "a little scattered and absurd," it also made me wonder: How often do we deeply desire the opposite results to what we're now getting? And how often can we get the opposite results only by doing some things BACKWARDS?

 

In Matthew 11:28-30, Jesus issued an invitation that has nothing to do with the song, "Backwards" - and everything to do with it. Jesus said, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

 

Tragically, this is the mindset, not only of our culture, but of our church culture.

Question: How do we identify the "most committed Christians"? Answer: They're the busiest ones in the church, of course. They attend every service, serve on numerous committees, hold multiple positions and can always be counted on to accept another responsibility, no matter how overextended they already are. In our minds, activity equals commitment.

Further, we're pretty sure that, once you're a Christian, "coming to Christ" means going to the church building regularly. But let's check the accuracy of that assumption. Jesus said, "Come to me . . . and I will give you rest." So, as your "active involvement" in church increases, does "going to church" give you rest? Or does it do just the opposite?

Remember, Jesus issued his invitation to those who are "weary and burdened." Elsewhere in the gospels, he pointed out one primary source of these burdens. In Matthew 23:4, Jesus said of the scribes and Pharisees, "They tie up heavy loads and put them on men's shoulders." In Luke 11:46, Christ announced, "And you experts in the law, woe to you, because you load people down with burdens they can hardly carry."

Do Jesus' strong indictments mean that pastors and other church leaders are the bad guys? No. But they're often blind guides, faithfully leading the blind. Typically, the leaders we seek to emulate are the MOST weary and burdened members of the congregation. One breath from going under themselves, they teach by example that truly committed Christians welcome impossible loads Jesus never intended us to carry.

I was among them. For seven years, I worked for a denominational entity. The entire seven years, I constantly pedaled as hard as I could - yet never came close to catching up. I was always overwhelmed, always "behind," always adding seven things to my to-do list for every one thing I accomplished. Meanwhile, people regularly asked me, "How do you get so much done?"

During that season, I sought desperately, daily to operate God's way - earnestly desiring to understand the right use for the right moment and to do it by the Spirit of God. I constantly cried out for grace to enter his rest. My frustration mounted as the frantic pace and heavy load made real rest impossible.

Looking around, I saw that I wasn't the only one compelled to drive full-speed-ahead, no matter how empty my tank. Everyone else was, too.

Only after leaving that position did I realize the reason my co-workers and I - along with many pastors, church leaders and other "committed Christians" of all stripes - cannot find the rest Jesus promised: Like the religious leaders of Jesus' day, our religious systems mercilessly overload and overdrive us.

The greater our involvement in a religious system - that counterfeits and often enmeshes with life-giving involvement in Christ's Body - the deeper our weariness, the heavier our load. Because we've honestly believed that faithfulness to religious structures equals commitment to Christ, we keep struggling to move forward - in quicksand.

Up to our necks in the mire, we mistake the quicksand for the cross. "This is the cost of discipleship," we tell ourselves. By what we say and what we model, we call others to follow us in sinking under burdens Christ emphatically denounced.

Dear weary one, if what you're getting isn't rest, where you're going isn't to Jesus.

Dear overburdened, if you've gotten sucked into the lie that exhaustion equals spirituality, and the more you struggle, the deeper you sink, Christ is not applauding your futile efforts. He's yelling, "Stop!"

We Confess! The Civil War, the South, and the Church 

Ebook: for Kindle and Nook!

Softcover & hardcover: Discounts on 2 copies or more at keytruths.com.

. . . . . . . 

How could a church culture that lifted high the name of Jesus make covenant with the Confederacy? How did the Southern Baptist Convention lead the way? How do divided hearts and unholy covenants still hinder awakening in the conservative US church? What dramatic changes will a spirit of grace and supplication bring?

 We Confess! The Civil War, the South, and the Church uncovers the answers, historically, biblically, Spirit-to-spirit.

"My Beloved, much of what you think and feel is rooted in who you are not-but have mistakenly believed you are. Try as you might, you cannot see clearly; you cannot step fully into all I have for you. Binding entanglements keep you from it. Generational bloodguilt keeps you from fully knowing me.

"Come to me. Lay aside denial and offense. Stop being ruled and misled, beaten up and torn apart by logic and emotion. Come to me. I will release you."

Honest, compelling, courageous, redemptive, this remarkable look at the conservative church culture rooted in the Deep South explores such topics as:

• king cotton and mighty oaks;
• the fast God has chosen;
• spiritual bulimia;
• spiritual schizophrenia;
• blood covenant;
• cleansing from bloodguilt;
• an undivided heart.