Which Quote Gets You Burned at the Stake?

Yesterday, my current commentary gave evidence to something that today's old entry confirms:  I am a long-term quoter.  I am a reader, and therefore I am a quoter.  In fact, you might find half of what I say has already been said by someone else.  In fact, sometimes I forget whether something I believe was an original thought or was something I read someone else say back in my on antiquity.  In fact, I'll speak more to this at the end of today's backward glance.   
August 6
Once Elijah [my middle son, 7 at the time of this journal] asked me, "Would the devil ever be sorry?"  This question got me to thinking about the converse:  Does God ever grieve the estrangement of his archangel?  The little book I'm using to study Colossians quotes this verse:  "And through Him to reconcile to Himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven."  Col. 1:20
Was that redemption bought by Jesus so great it could even redeem the devil himself? My son wants to know, and now I'm kind of curious, too.  How would such a thing appear?

[Here the quote is my son and not from reading, but he did inspire reflection, and I noted it faithfully in my journal.]

August 11
I am studying this little book preparing to lead a youth retreat on the spiritual disciplines.  It is called Loved and Forgiven, by Lloyd John Ogilvie.  As I study it, I read about the dangers of basic assumptions that are in contradiction to the gospels.  "Right thoughts do not make us righteous.  Only the cross can do that." (p.72)
Also, "...even a quick review of the commandments forces us to realize that we have failed miserably...We then try to deal with that by either saying, 'Well, nobody's perfect.  Why try?' or 'I'm going to be good enough to deserve God's approval!' The outcome is either license or perfectionism.  Neither works.  Both result in an uneasy state of grace." (p. 79)
And, "The new life we are to live is not one of compulsion, seeking to earn the Lord's approval, but one of conviction, allowing Him to express Himself through us." (p.106)
How much do You get to express Yourself through ALL of my life circumstances, God?

August 18
One more book in preparing for this youth retreat.  It's called The Way of the Heart [my first introduction to Henri Nouwen, who would become one of my favorite Christian authors.]  In it, the author says our "greed and anger are brother and sister of a false self fabricated by the social compulsions of an unredeemed world."
What does this say to me? 
Sour fruits of the spirit:  anger as my impulsive response to deprivation.  Additionally, when I build my response on what others say, then anger also serves as my protective response to that criticism.  Similarly, when my sense of self is built on possessions, then greed becomes compulsive.  [...although I hadn't had a lot of experience handling these greed-fruits, they were all theoretical.  Ha!]
Frozen fires of greed and anger these are, not roaring openly.  They are settled in the nibbling resentment that hides behind my smile and polite handshake.  These "slowly paralyze the generous heart." (p.24)
Desert fathers used solitude to escape these compulsions.  What do I use?


Heigh ho, Heigh ho, it's off to quote I go.  I'm a rabid reader, but sometimes that propensity turns me into at least an enigma to some, if not a terror on the order of a Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde.  Case in point: yesterday's entry.  The one comment I got from a reader was:  interesting, but you quoted Rob Bell!
I've thought about this a lot over time.  That whole idea of Dallas Willard's (seen recently enough I remember it's NOT my own idea) that we take our greatest liberties with what we allow ourselves to think about.  I admit it:  I've read Rob Bell.  I've also read Paul Tillich.  Gasp and gasp again.  To those who question Catholic authorship, I've read Nouwen.  To those who think historic Quakers weird, I've read Hannah Whitall Smith...etc.  Why??

Here is my considered response to that question of why I choose to read--and quote--as I do:
...I'll tell you I tossed around a bit over whether to include the Bell quote or not. I know some people would obstinately stop reading the minute they saw that, so I prayed: should I put it in, God? And I heard back: people had to crawl over cannibalism to understand the Eucharist, too, but they've forgotten what that sort of thing looks like now. Give me freedom to exercise it here.
 
As for why I'm even reading the book, well...I've never been one to fear a book, not after I've submitted my reading to the Spirit of God, which I always do. The guy who wrote The Message translation of the Bible is quoted as reviewing this particular Bell book and saying essentially: "I don't agree with everything Rob Bell says, but he gets us start asking the right questions again." And another long-term (but now retired) pastor friend of mine who has also read it said, "It does raise questions, but I really am surprised the book caused such a fuss." I was curious about what these questions were, so I decided to read it.  I am remembering an interview with Billy Graham (I think?) in which he was asked if he ever had trouble sitting through other people's bad sermons, considering he gave such great ones himself. His response was, "You can always get something out of a sermon. It's never the sermon that's the issue; it's your listening."  Finding the grain of wheat and letting the chaff fly away has simply never been that big a deal to me--one of God's graces, I suppose; and God has been faithful to show me what is false, but also what is valuable in both fabulous and lousy writing.
More philosophically, I believe sometimes we think we're protecting ourselves through the limits we set for ourselves, but often we're really just subconsciously trying to protect God from having to answer the questions we know we'd raise as a result of our reading.  Particularly if we're intelligent, we fear He wouldn't be equal to those questions, and we might lose our faith, but we rarely admit that to our conscious selves. Ha! My own experience is that God is always equal to the questions. Why should we fear an author could outstrip the power of God's response? How do we know He wouldn't turn around and have us answer someone else's question, one whose faith is not so strong as ours by our having already had that particular conversation with Him? A lot of people out there have trouble accepting God when He is presented as being easy to offend and not too good at fielding questions. On the other hand, a fearless, well-informed powerhouse for God leaves many with their jaws hanging open.
In my experience, the most unshakable ministers I know of for the Kingdom of God are constantly sorting, looking to distinguish within themselves where their motives lie, rooting out any motives that wear a mask of self-discipline, but are actually nothing but plain fear and doubt underneath that mask.   Such self-examination is effective for those who want most of all to love God and their fellow saints, for fear is always cast out through purified motives.  


As for my look backward at my historic quoting tendency, I see that even years ago I consulted a lot of texts, and these led me to ask a lot of questions; but I tarried for very few  of the answers.  Some time later, a friend prayed for me that I would be less like a hummingbird, particularly in the places where God was calling me to be an eagle.  I hope that prayer is being answered.  (smile)