The Power of Abandonment

I recently found this in Thomas a Kempis’ famous work, “The Imitation of Christ”:

“My dear friend, abandon yourself, and you will find me. Give up your will and every title to yourself, and you will always come out ahead, for greater grace will be yours the moment you turn yourself over to me once and for all.”

“Abandon yourself.”

Those words, at first listen, sound cold, even harsh.  Yet they also echo Jesus’ observation of truth: Those who lay down their lives actually find life.  These words, filled with force, are the standard marching orders on the path of faith.  They are far-from-optional; they are foundational.

And I am straining my ears to hear them again, perhaps for the first time.

Evelyn Underhill on Miracles

Sometimes I desire the spectacular.

I read the Scriptures and stories from believers through history, and I marvel at awesome occurrences, events that could only be suitably described as miracles.

How many of these have I experienced?

Those akin to crippled men walking or mourning widows having dead sons returned to them–my count is zero.

But trust Evelyn Underhill to push me.  In her work “The Light of Christ”, she writes this:

“A priest was once asked if many miracles happened at Lourdes.  He said, ‘Yes many; but the greatest are not miracles of healing, but the spiritual miracles, the transformation of those who pray desperately for cure of this or that and come back, not physically cured, but filled with peace and joy, surrended to the Will of God, conformed to the Cross.”

To a hardened cynic, accusingly demanding miracles as proof of God’s existence, this answer will hardly satisfy.  It will even appear as an outright cop-out.  That said, Jesus himself never catered to such requests, so it’s hardly shocking to see a similar pattern throughout the rest of God’s dealings with humanity.

To a hungry seeker, Underhill’s words cause reflection…

• What drives my desire to experience stunning spectacle?
• IF I did witness the miraculous, would it REALLY work to strengthen my faith?  For how long?  To what degree?
• Might there be miracles taking place in my life, wonders which I am failing to recognize for what they truly are?

What are your thoughts on the miraculous, in the lives of God’s people?

 

Be Wary of “Ways”

Several years back, I was directed to get acquainted with Jeanne Guyon (1648-1717), a French mystic, who left behind a trail of profoundly simple yet rich, writings about the spiritual life.

Upon reading one of her volumes, I felt as though I’d been led to deep and refreshing wells of water that I had previously known nothing about.

Wikipedia describes her emphasis on constant prayer as the heart of the spiritual life:

Guyon believed that we should pray all the time, whatever one was doing, to be also spending time with God. “Prayer is the key of perfection and of sovereign happiness; it is the efficacious means of getting rid of all vices and of acquiring all virtues; for the way to become perfect is to live in the presence of God. He tells us this Himself: “walk before me, and be thou perfect” (Genesis 17:1). Prayer alone can bring you into His presence, and keep you there continually.^“

As she wrote in one of her poems: “There was a period when I chose, A time and place for prayer … But now I seek that constant prayer, In inward stillness known …”

That first book that I read from Madame Guyon was titled, “Experiencing the Depths of Jesus Christ”.  A quote I re-encountered recently spoke to the need for genuine desire and pursuit as we seek God.  We will find ourselves poorly compensated if we choose instead to substitute a method in for the Master:

“In all your experience of Christ, it is wisest for you to stay away from any set form, or pattern, or way.  Instead, be wholly given up to the leading of the Holy Spirit.  By following your spirit, every encounter you have with the Lord is one that is perfect… no matter what the encounter is like.”

Certainly, people of faith will “compare notes” until kingdom come about “what works” for them in their spiritual lives, devotional habits, and so forth.  But taken alongside Guyon’s simple advice, we will be well served to approach God plainly and humbly, as His most loved children.

This almost too-simple-to-consider path is the way into which Jesus has invited us and toward which the Holy Spirit nudges us.

Christian Community and Influence

Within my pursuit of God, the vital role of community has been impressed upon me repeatedly.  Much of this repetition is likely due to my slowness at grasping the concept.  Even still, a strand within me dreams of a spiritual path containing independence.  The whole thought is a myth, and God is ongoing in his efforts to root me in reality.

For Christians, this community concept is summarized in the term “church”.  It is unfortunate to encounter the baggage that many associate with this beautiful word.  Believers have wronged each other and misrepresented their Master throughout history, and everyone–believer or not–can surely tell tales of disappointment or disillusionment with “Christian community”.

But such shortfalls do not diminish the truth of our need.  If anything, they further attest to the power–for good or ill–that relationships wield in our lives, and this raises the volume of the call upon us to live well inter-connectedly.

In framing the existence of the church, some may total the sum of its presence as that of transforming society.  While admirable, and not entirely off, Howard A. Snyder, in “The Community of the King,” seeks to clarify:

“The church is not to be understood primarily as a means to the end of transforming society.  This would be to trample over the uniqueness and infinite worth to God of the Christian community.  Besides, the amazing and profound fact is that the Church most transforms society when it is itself growing and being perfected in the love of Christ. 

In fact when the Church is taken merely as a means to transform society, very little is accomplished.  For in that case the uniqueness of the Church is denied and we enter the battle on the same terms as secular and godless forces.  We assume the battle for right and justice can be won by force, by technique, by doing.  It can’t.  These very clearly are not the weapons of Christian warfare.  (Eph. 6:10-20).  Truly Christian transformation of culture comes through Christlike (hence sacrificial) love, community, and being.”

His point?

We may share some goals for our world and lives, even with unbelievers around us.  We may echo the widely spoken desire to “make the world a better place”.  But we will be beckoned down a road that involves the pursuit of God, the submission of ourselves to Him, and the sacrifice of walking through His discipline to become more like Him.  The mystic seeks this road, not only for his own benefit, but for the sake of those around, for his world.

And our potential for true influence toward the true good is increased as we let Christ Jesus, the completer of all things, exercise his influence upon us.

 

Smouldering Wicks

My aspirations live above my realizations.

Part of that is tied into my role as a pastor.  I spend much time in the study of Scripture and the pondering of its grand themes: Redemption, renewal, restoration, re-creation, resurrection, and more not-always-RE-words.

However, the consideration and communication of these grand realities can form an illusion, in which I can live, that somehow I have attained and entered fully into all these wonders which I speak so freely of.

Sigh.

How I wish.

Along this line, I have always found a certain sense of fascination and even subdued pleasure at reading C.S. Lewis’ account of his conversion.  His words are a confession that, as a new Christian, he knelt in prayer for the first time, according to his own report, “the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England.”

And that gently jars the hope within me to awaken, “Take heart.  Despair not.  God can work with mere sparks.  And when all you have are embers of desire, ask Him to gently breathe upon them.”

The flickering fire imagery is taken up by the prophet Isaiah, when he reveals God as one who does not snuff out smouldering wicks (Isa. 42:3).  When the wick weakly crackles, when the light almost fades, our Maker and Lover takes no pleasure in extinguishing the pitiful flame.

At times when the best we can muster is not-nearly-enough, and in days when the gap between the ideals we hold to and the reality we live within threatens to swallow us whole, this is a hopeful word to receive.

So flicker.  Tremble.  Burn up the last bits of fuel and wick you possess.  The One you seek will not snuff out smouldering wicks.  And when He breathes anew upon you, you may find yourself shocked at blaze ignited in your soul.

The Power of Routine

My family and I just returned from a week-long vacation.

While we saw beautiful sights (Niagara Falls) and created some fun memories (Marineland and more), we relived the truth that “there’s no place like home” upon our return.  Part of that was due to the fact that traveling with small children involves a LOT more work than our younger, free-er trips ever did.  Another factor is that we typically enjoy most of our “home routine”.

Returning home also made me reflect on the crucial place that routine plays in my spiritual life.  Vacations are great, and a key part of their refreshing nature is found in their role as a routine-buster.  That’s fine for a time–even more than fine–but at some point, “formless and void” translates into chaos.  And one’s insides are not created to dwell well within a chaotic state.  More than ever before, I returned home from this trip recognizing that my spirit needs rhythm and regularity.  Routine shapes my soul for the better.

This can shock anyone who has ever devalued routine as rigid and tired and lifeless.  Certainly, there ARE ways to create such unhelpful patterns.  But regular rhythms are woven into nearly every strand of creation, and consistently, they symbolize the vibrancy of life, as opposed to anything dry and dead: Tides, seasons, day and night, water cycles, and more.  Nature attests to the beauty and power of rhythms that we might call “routine”.  Routines, properly formed and held, nourish and sustain.

A part of me has often rebelled against the thought of establishing too much routine in my life; spontaneity is certainly more seductive.  However, another voice is gaining volume.  It is a steady insistence that I become more of who I am intended to be when routines and rituals and rhythms are creating a framework from which to hang the fabric of my life.  This framework ironically provides the freedom to grow and evolve in meaningful ways.

So holidays have ended.  Pictures have been snapped and memories have been created.  A taste of refreshing adventure has been had.  And now the sipping of the steady and stable resumes.

And my spirit is fine with that.

Sighing for the Spring of the Eternal Country

The leading of the Holy Spirit is not meant to be an issue of top secrecy.

If any Christian lives within mediocrity, if we feel the least amount of divine power at our greatest points of need, it is not because the Holy Spirit has segregated Himself for only the spiritual elite.  His presence and His power are the inheritance of all of God’s children.

Nearly 1600 years ago, Augustine put forth these words:

“Give me a man in love.  He knows what I mean.  Give me one who yearns.  Give me one who is hungry.  Give me one, far away in this desert, who is thirsty and sighs for the spring of the Eternal country.   Give me that sort of man.  He knows what I mean.  But if I speak to a cold man, he just does not know what I am talking about.”

Toward more of the Spirit in our lives, let us press on as “a man in love”, one who will not be deterred.  Could it be that passion alone can play a powerful part in tapping into more of the Spirit’s fullness?

I suspect so.

So along those lines…

Lord, let yearnings for You burn within us.  Place hungers and thirsts inside that remain dissatisfied by every lesser filling than Your very self.  Make us people who sigh for the spring of the Eternal country.

Sigh.