Public Speaking and Death

Among the greatest fears of my cultural contemporaries are public speaking and death, with those two vying for the top spot.  This, to me, is one of those ironies that can only be ascribed to God.  Since this culture is largely wrong (or at least terribly confused) about God it is surprising to find the basic underlying fears summed up in persons through whom their Master chooses to speak.  In order for a preacher to preach two things have to happen.  First, this crazed individual has to somehow overcome the fear of public speaking and speak.  Second, in order to speak on behalf of God, this person must overcome the fear of death and die.  The two requirements are closely related for the preacher.  But whenever you see one or hear one truly speaking for God, not just claiming to speak for God, you listen and see a paradox in the best sense of the word.  Here is a person who has died and speaks publicly.  Both fears appear conquered in a single individual; a thing which God does.

I believe that this was part of my struggle in my previous ministry experiences.  I have to admit that the public speaking part was the easiest thing I did as a pastor.  But, I am not sure that the fear of death was truly conquered in me.  Speak publicly I could do, but speak publicly for God I experienced off and on.  I'm not sure if this describes the sensation other pastors feel, and that is not the point.  The point is that the two fears should have been resolved in me, and were, when I spoke on God's behalf to His people.  They were just not consistently resolved.

The fear of death is clearly evident in prior posts.  It has to be conquered in order to speak for God, but that is true regardless of the venue.  Even if I speak privately, in crisis or pain, in happy times or sad times, next to a deathbed or just illness, it is only to the extent the fear of my personal death has faded that I am clear to hear my Master and speak to others out of that relationship.  I guess this is true for any believer, follower of the same Master.  But it entails more than just speaking.  If this death has truly occurred (or is occurring), then the behavior, attitudes, and priorities will reflect that death.  The focus of my life will obviously be on my Master, not on my own advancement (however I define self-advancement).  I think or imagine that I will experience life with the sense of being led from room to room in a large house with a task, sometimes different, sometimes the same, but one task for each room.  I do the work, but I work on behalf of another, not the occupants of the room, but the owner of the house.  It is a mindset I have not fully embraced yet, but I sense coming on, as if I am phasing in and out of it throughout my day, spending more time in than out or being more aware of my existence in either phase than previously (sounds very "Star Trek" of me, does it not?  "Beam me up, Scotty!").  I have had this sense more strongly at other times in my life, and have described my life with my Master to those close to me as somewhat like walking in two worlds simultaneously, or at least that it should be that way.

My life can be a great witness of the power and glory of my Master.  My life can also be an embarrassment to Him.  Either way two things happen.  First, I am a witness, good or bad.  Second, my Master loves me intensely.  This is yet another paradox of epic proportions.  So, I have a really good safety net with which to explore my fear of death.  I can test it, fail, try again, fail, succeed for a while, fail yet again, try again, etc. and do so with the assurance that, as I do, the love of my Master does not waver, halt, fade in or out with my success or failure (no "phasing" with Him), and is as sure as His very existence.  That is an amazing laboratory in which to experiment with fearlessness; a perfect venue to practice death; a safe place to face fears.  It's a place I need to go and hang out today.  Until tomorrow then,