Don’t you just hate those uncomfortable moments when you realize that you aren’t the person you thought you were? It calls to mind Dennis Green’s famous rant about the Chicago Bears. They may be who we thought they were, but I’m not who I thought I was, and I can’t let myself off the hook.
It all started several weeks ago in church—which, sidenote, has been an irritatingly recurring theme! At the Wednesday night prayer meeting, we were encouraged to pray through a passage of Scripture, whatever verses came to mind. I was drawn to the “Upper Room Discourse” in the Gospel of John, especially chapters 14-16. Since I “understood the assignment” as the kids might say, I started praying through the passage and a sequence of verses leaped off the page and started slapping me in the face. Do you notice a pattern here?
John 14:13-14 - Whatever you ask in my name, this I will do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If you ask me anything in my name, I will do it.
John 15:7 - If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.
John 15:16 - You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name, he may give it to you.
John 16:23-24 - Truly, truly, I say to you, whatever you ask of the Father in my name, he will give it to you. Until now you have asked nothing in my name. Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full.(All verses taken from the ESV.)
I’ve read these chapters dozens if not hundreds of times; I’ve taught through John on several occasions in different contexts. These chapters contain so many of the most recognizable Scripture quotes from the Christian tradition. “I am the vine, you are the branches…” “I am the way the truth and the light…” “Love one another as I have loved you…” “Take courage; I have overcome the world…” Etc. Throughout my life, I’ve probably visited these verses more than just about any other portion of the Bible. But somehow I had never noticed this pattern before; it’s repeated more than anything else in the Upper Room Discourse—and John repeats the same concept TWICE in 1st John too (1st John 3:22 & 5:14-15) just in case we missed the memo the first time. Whatever you ask. Anything. Anything? ANYTHING?
Real talk: Anything is a problem for me, y’all.
Not in the theological sense. I fully believe God is omnipotent—all-powerful—and capable of doing anything He wishes to do in accordance with His character. More colloquially: God CAN do anything. My issue isn’t whether or not God CAN do anything, but whether or not He WILL do anything. There are a handful of sticky, hard prayers I’ve been praying recently that, if I’m being honest about my heart-of-hearts, I’m convinced God won’t answer. God can do what I’m asking, but I’m certain He won’t. It isn’t even doubt, properly speaking. With these few prayers, I’m not even in the double-minded “driven and tossed by the wind” situation described by James. I don’t doubt God will answer, I know He won’t.
God used that prayer time a few weeks ago to point out to me that I’m hard-hearted, plain and simple. I own that this is a “me” problem. Just being honest, even if it’s not very flattering. What I’ve wrestled with since then is why? Where is this coming from? Why am I so certain, in opposition to what Scripture seems to say, that He won’t do these three things I’m asking? I prayed that He would reveal the source of my hard-heartedness, but I still couldn’t figure it out.
Needless to say, I’ve been stewing on that for a while.
In other news, I recently re-read Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings trilogy for the first time in more than a decade. They’re some of my favorite books, and I read them cover-to-cover five or six times as a teenager. I’ve watched the almost 12 hours combined of the “Extended Edition” films dozens of times and usually watch them again at least once a year. I have been and remain a gigantic LOTR nerd. But still, I hadn’t re-read the books since getting married and entering adulthood proper. I’ve started a couple of times, but never made it past the first book (The Fellowship of the Ring). I finally decided that I was going to see it through, and finished a couple of weeks ago.
As familiar as I am with the material (and I am VERY familiar), it still hits a little bit differently at this stage of my life. This time through the series I noticed a lot of things I hadn’t picked up on as a teenager and/or young adult. One of the things that stood out was that Tolkien goes out of his way to repeatedly emphasize how little hope there is that the heroes will succeed in their quest against the darkness. And it’s not just that they face a dire situation, but that they all know just how dire it is. Tolkien essentially asks a pointed question: what do you do in the face of a hopeless situation?
The major plot points of the last two books revolve around how various characters—both heroes and anti-heroes—answer that question. What’s fascinating is that no two characters answer exactly alike. I could write a dissertation breaking down the various details, but two specific characters are most relevant here. Both of them are initially deceived by the enemy, and both of them end up perishing, but how they meet their fate provides a stark contrast.
First is King Theoden. When we meet him, he’s been lulled into a position of apathy and weakness by the lies of the enemy. When confronted with and awakened by the truth, he realizes that time has wasted away and it’s far too late to do all that is necessary to protect his kingdom. But he assembles his horse-lords and rides out to battle anyway. Against all odds—and due only to the way 3 other characters elsewhere answer “the question”—they barely survive their first intense battle only to find out that their now diminished force must immediately turn around and ride halfway across the world into an even more hopeless battle. There’s no way they can make it to their sworn allies in time, and even if they do, there’s no way they can win when they arrive. But they ride on into the jaws of certain death regardless.
Throughout his story, Theoden has a lot of powerful and memorable lines, many of which make their way almost verbatim into the film adaptation. I remembered most of these as I found them in the text again, but there was one I didn’t remember that jumped out this time. In the last meeting with his men moments before they ride onto his final battlefield, he lays out the basic plan of attack and concludes with the simple but powerful words: “Forth now, and fear no darkness!” His story then ends when he faces down one of the archvillains of the series alone on the battlefield. Theoden makes his brave final stand against the character Tolkien paints as fear incarnate, captain of all the forces of darkness.
On the other hand, you have Lord Denethor. He arrives on the scene also having been led astray by the enemy. But when he is met with the truth via the same messenger that confronted Theoden, he turns away from it and instead glimpses into a crystal ball known to be controlled by the forces of evil. Finding nothing there but doom and death, he refuses to fulfill his responsibility to take command of the defense of his city. When faced with very similar circumstances, Denethor does almost the exact opposite of Theoden at every turn.
As a matter of fact, in the very moments that Theoden charges out to meet his death defending the gates of Denethor’s city—unbeknownst to Denethor in an outcome that the crystal ball hid from him—Denethor is hiding himself away in the tombs of his forefathers. He is so certain in his false knowledge that no help is coming and all is lost that he tries to burn himself and his wounded son alive on a pyre of despair. Just in the nick of time, other heroes save Denethor’s son from his father’s folly and give Denethor one last chance to repent. But his story ends as he still chooses fear and flames over faith.
The uncomfortable moment happened the instant I realized that the hard-heartedness God had convicted me about and the contrast between Thoeden and Denethor living rent-free in my head were related. We like to envision ourselves as the heroes, not the antiheroes. But the bitter, hard-to-swallow truth is that I’m far more like Denethor than I want to admit.
In confessing my hard heart situation to others, I’ve been asked if it’s because I’m afraid of the answer. I initially rebuffed that conclusion. After all, I don’t feel afraid. I’m not nervous or anxious about these three things I’m having a hard time praying for. None of the tell-tale signs of fear are there. I just have a sour certainty; I know that God won’t answer. But of our contrasted characters, who does that sound like?
That’s the tricky thing with fear: when it grows into despair, it stops feeling and seeming like fear, even though that’s exactly what it is at the root. Despair is nothing more than fear masquerading as certainty. The truth is that I am afraid. Not afraid of the answer itself, but what the answer will do to me. Afraid that it will crush me. Afraid that it will shatter my faith and leave me a mere husk in the shape of the person I am now. That fear wraps me in a sandpaper safety blanket of pessimism, callousing and crusting my heart with cold, hard “knowledge” nee despair: He won’t answer.
So yeah. It turns out that I’m not who I thought I was.
The sad irony is that despair ultimately causes the very pain we’re trying to shield ourselves from. Giving into the despair that the darkness will win is precisely what causes it to win inside us in the first place. This is one of the truths Tolkien so beautifully exposes in his story. We ultimately have to choose: do we give into fear and the flames of despair, or do we keep the faith and ride out to meet fear head-on, come what may?
Today is Good Friday, the day that despair died. It just doesn’t know it yet. Jesus prayed for the strength to meet His fear head-on and He did. Fear and death were swallowed up in His victory, even though it took his fearful and hard-hearted disciples a little while to figure it out. His perfect love was poured out for us, a love casting out all fear. I choose to rest my soul in that love, in that hope. I reject fear in Jesus’s name, trusting in the promise that He will do whatever I ask in accordance with His will. I will pray, despite fear and doubt, for anything. Because anything short of anything is merely fear.
Or, said a different way:
Forth now, and fear no darkness!