Regardless of how many insist otherwise, it is an all-or-nothing proposition. Either we consecrate ourselves to God, and belong to Him exclusively, surrendering to His molding, correction, pruning, sifting, refining, and will, or we remain forever double-minded, hoping to find ways to use God to our benefit while still retaining veto power over things that upset or otherwise indispose the flesh.
Come June, I will have been married to the same woman for twenty-five
years. Basic math tells me that I’ve been married for half as long as I’ve been
alive, having turned fifty this year, and throughout all this time, the
commitment I made before God and man that I would love only her and no other
has remained intact.
We consecrate ourselves to God in the same manner we
consecrate ourselves to our wives or husbands. You’re exclusive. You’re not
playing the field or looking around to see what’s available. It is a lifelong
commitment, and one we must take seriously, remaining steadfast and resolute in
our focus to reject anything and anyone that would come between us and our
spouses. Nowadays, marriage has become a place holder of sorts until something
better comes along, and that is evident in the nosebleed levels of divorce both
within and without the household of faith.
We don’t consecrate ourselves to God only until such a time
as a better offer comes along. That’s not true consecration; it’s base usury,
and the tragedy is that far too many apply this selfsame mindset to every area
of life. I’ll keep this job and do the bare minimum until a better offer comes
along. I’ll stay with my wife, or with my husband, until someone richer, younger,
prettier, more handsome, or less obsessed with eating organic crosses my path.
I’ll serve God until I get that recording contract I’ve always wanted, or have
a guest spot on Oprah.
Men no longer commit to serving God with pure desires where
their end goal is nothing more than obedience. There’s always something else they’re
trying to achieve, and they use God as the vehicle by which they may attain the
desire of their heart. Among the many reasons why there are so few true servants
of God nowadays, and why His power and authority aren’t flowing through the
church like a mighty rushing river, this is perhaps in the top three. We’re constantly
vying for something more, and talk ourselves into believing that God is either
too busy or too dull to see through the façade.
1 Corinthians 2:1-5, “And I, brethren, when I came to you,
did not come with excellence of speech or of wisdom declaring to you the
testimony of God. For I determined not to know anything among you except Jesus
Christ and Him crucified. I was with you in weakness, in fear, and in much
trembling. And my speech and my preaching were not with persuasive words of
human wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and power, that your faith
should not be in the wisdom of men but in the power of God.”
But you don’t get it; you have to do something special, or be
something special, to stand out in a crowd. You have to claim that you play
backgammon with the Almighty every other Tuesday, or that you've taken so many
trips to heaven that you’ve mapped out the streets of gold. No, you don’t, but
your ego and pride demand that you do because it’s not about Christ and Him
crucified, it’s about you and exposure, prominence, and fame.
True servants have one overarching goal, and that is to
serve. The mandate remains the same, and the obedience they walk in is
sufficient to keep them motivated and focused on whatever task God sets before
them, whether that’s pastoring a church, running a ministry, reading the Bible
to the elderly, handing out food at a soup kitchen, or sharing the gospel with
their neighbors. Servanthood strips us of pride and ego, or thoughts of
spotlights and adoring fans. Just do the work. God sees it, and that’s all that
matters. You don’t need the world’s validation, your family’s validation, or
the validation of those you go out of your way to help. God knows! It is
enough.
That we are determined to distance ourselves from the precept
of desiring not to know anything among the brethren except Jesus Christ and Him
crucified has also facilitated a season of division and animosity within the
church as to rival any other time in human history. The more we add to the ever-growing
list of things people have to agree with us on, the less crucial and essential
Jesus becomes. It’s not enough to know Jesus Christ and Him crucified among the
brethren any longer. I need to know who you voted for, what day of the week you
worship on, whether you pray kneeling or standing, whether you say Jesus or
Yeshua when you address the Son of God, if you read King James only, wear a
wedding band, apply deodorant, shine your shoes before church, and what exactly
you do with your nasal leavings once you’ve removed them from your nostrils.
If we differ on any of those points, then Ichabod to you, even
though what we should determine to know among ourselves is Jesus Christ and Him
crucified. We’re eating our own, and it makes for a fine feast, far easier to
attain than standing against the darkness or the wiles of the enemy. If we keep
at this pace, eventually we will shrink the circle of those we deem worthy until
only we remain in it, and even then, only because we’re not honest enough with
ourselves to conclude that had we been holding ourselves to the same standard,
we too would be cast out. Meanwhile, the harvest field remains unattended, the
work of the Kingdom undone, and we continue to subsist on a diet of milk,
although by this time we ought to have graduated to solid food.
That said, for some, it’s easier to curse the darkness than to light a candle. It’s easier to pontificate endlessly about things they have no way of changing than it is to take accountability for the things they can.
With love in Christ,
Michael Boldea, Jr.
Posted on 22 April 2025 | 11:27 am
Page processed in 0.022 seconds.