presence, abandonment and normality in the kingdom

Sometimes we need to be reassured that we are indeed normal. Let me explain, sometimes you find yourself in dissonance with the people around you, so much so that you begin to wonder if it is not you who is somewhat strange. There was a time, when, surrounded by kind, gentle, cute believers who did not want to bother or disturb anyone, content to attend services regularly, to pray gently and just to have a good time; I, on the contrary, had a cry inside, I thought strength, authority, domination, spiritual power and influence in society. I began to feel strange until I listened to Ulf Eckman. From then on, I felt normal.

When I first walked through the doors of Livets Ord (Word of Life) in Uppsala, Sweden, founded by Pastor Ulf (as he is affectionately known to his flock), I was struck by the almost palpable presence of God in those premises, a presence the likes of which I had never felt anywhere in the world before or since. I was challenged. I desperately needed to know how a church could be so saturated with God's presence that even the building was so imbued with it. I observed faith, passionate preaching and worship, great spiritual strength, and a total, radical, and uncommon commitment to Christ. When I returned to Paris, I made a joke and told God that it was a good thing that church wasn't in Paris, because otherwise I would have gone there without asking.

I heard Ulf Eckman recall something he experienced in the early days of their church. They had 200 members and they worshipped God at length. One day, the Holy Spirit spoke to him, saying, “I will do and give anything to people who praise me in this way,” and this while they were, according to Ulf Eckman, “praising Him with abandon, worshipping Him like madmen, like fanatics,” not out of obligation, but out of desire. God gave them a 4,000-seat building, now enlarged to 5,500. Since then, every time he entered the building (he had in the meantime settled in Israel), God reminded him that “This building exists for my praise, I gave it to you because you love me, you worship me, and you honor me.” Hearing this, I understood why I had felt God’s presence in that place so strongly.

It blows my mind, not because I want a building, and I certainly do, but because I like God to notice my worship and invest in my space. I want God to be pleased with the worship of Abba House and our Parakletos conferences. Someone visiting Abba House said to me, “Pastor, your sons and daughters are very zealous.” I can’t imagine it any other way. It’s in our DNA; we are people who worship God with abandon, like crazy. I want to see people who forget themselves, who let themselves go before God. I can’t explain how painful it is to see Christians sitting there, casual, indifferent when it comes to worshipping God. I want to shake them and say, “Wake up! Don’t you realize who He is?”
If you're the type of person who celebrates Jesus vigorously and unabashedly, and you find yourself in a place—yes, it exists—where people look at you askance or condescendingly, don't worry; you're the normal one. God loves people like you, and He takes up their space. And after all, that's what it's all about.