The Advent of Growth – December 8, 2013

Suggested Reading: Luke 2: 39-52 and Hebrews 5:8-9

The miracle of Christmas is that God was born as a human. God became one of us, truly one of us. The Christ, the Son of God, became one of us as His body was formed in His mother's womb, just as my body was knit together in my mother's womb.

When Christ came to earth, He didn't appear full grown. Jesus was born into this world with the blood, sweat, and probably tears through His mother's labour. He was born as a baby, not knowing or being able to do much at all. He had a lot to learn.

Baby Jesus had to learn how to eat. He had to learn how to crawl, how to walk, how to run. He had to be potty trained. Jesus had to grow in knowledge and wisdom as well. It wasn't just physical growth. He had to learn how to relate. He had to learn language, or in His time and place, several languages. He would have learned Hebrew (the language of the scriptures), Aramaic (the language of the streets), and probably a smattering of Greek (the language of society and culture) and Latin (the language of government). He also learned a trade, carpentry.

Jesus didn't just pop into our world and start performing miracles. He lived a full life of childhood and through adolescence to manhood. In being born, growing, and learning as we all do, Jesus sanctified the process, He showed these to be holy activities, or at least that they could be done in a holy and sinless way.

I was struck by this anew recently as I was berating myself for failing to do something that I knew was best, that I ultimately wanted to do. I felt like I should be farther along already; I should be done growing. As I took this to the Lord, I felt the gentle reminder that He was patient with me. In my petulance I felt myself bristle internally, feeling that He couldn't understand what it was like to not be perfect.

Then I remembered. Jesus grew up. Jesus was perfect in the sense of never having broken fellowship with the Father. He never sinned. But He was not perfect in that He must have made grammatical or spelling mistakes as He was learning language. He did not suddenly know how to do carpentry. He learned from Joseph, in the workshop, or on the job. He had to learn, and undoubtedly made mistakes. Jesus Christ knows what it is like to not know things and to have to learn them.

This gives me hope. We have a God who knows what it is to learn and to grow. His growth sanctifies my growth. I can give myself the grace to grow and be in process.

Jesus’ birth, which we celebrate at Christmas, gives me grace for growth.

.................

Questions:

What recent mistake of yours left you feeling frustrated?

What are some areas of growth for you?

Can you give yourself grace for your growth?

The Advent of Growth

The miracle of Christmas is that God was born as a human. God became one of us, truly one of us. He did not appear in human likeness. The Christ, the Son of God, became one of us as His body was formed in His mother's womb, just as my body was knit together in my mother's womb.

When Christ came to earth, He didn't appear full grown. Jesus was born into this world with the blood, sweat, and probably tears through his mother's labor. He was born as a baby, not knowing or being able to do much at all. He had a lot to learn.

Baby Jesus had to learn how to breast feed. He had to learn how to crawl, how to walk, how to run. He had to be potty trained. Jesus had to grow in knowledge and wisdom as well. It wasn't just physical growth. He had to learn how to relate. He had to learn language, or in his time and place, languages. He would have learned Hebrew (the language of the scriptures), Aramaic (the language of the streets), and probably a smattering of Greek (the language of society and culture) and Latin (the language of government). He also learned a trade, carpentry. 

Jesus didn't just pop into our world and start performing miracles. He lived a full life of childhood and through adolescence to manhood. In being born, growing, and learning as we all do, Jesus sanctified the process, he showed these to be holy activities, or at least that they could be done in a holy and sinless way.

I was struck by this anew recently as I was berating myself for failing to do something that I knew was best, that I ultimately wanted to do. I felt like I should be farther along already. I should be done growing. As I took this to the Lord, I felt the gentle reminder that He was patient with me. In my petulance I felt myself bristle internally, feeling that He couldn't understand what it was like to not be perfect.

Then I remembered. Jesus grew up. Jesus was perfect in the sense of never having broken fellowship with the Father, He never sinned. But he was not perfect in that He never made any grammatical or spelling mistakes as He was learning language. He did not suddenly know how to do carpentry. He learned from Joseph, in the workshop, or on the job. He had to learn, and undoubtedly made mistakes. Jesus Christ knows what it is like to not know things and to learn.

This gives me hope. We have a God who has walked a mile in our shoes. He knows what it is to learn and to grow. His growth sanctifies my growth. I can give myself the grace to grow and be in process.

Jesus birth, which we celebrate at Christmas, gives me grace for growth.

At Play in the Fields

As I was walking the other day through the fields, I realized again that my dog, Oreo, has become a part of my relationship with God. As we tramp through the fields around our town together, I notice things about her behaviour and occasionally God will nudge me to reflect on how that particular act might reflect something deeper. 

It is such an amazing adventure to live in a God bathed world. The more I realize His actual presence the more the opportunity for connection with Him becomes a reality. I am looking for Him, expecting Him to speak up at any moment. I am slowly learning what it means to actually walk with God; not just follow His principles or obey His Word, but to actually walk with God.

Yesterday, I went on a walk with Oreo and God. They were both with me the whole time, even when I wasn't consciously aware of their presence. On these rambles across the countryside, I generally let my mind wander. I don't keep a tight rein on it, but let it go where it will following the contours of the land and sky or pondering tasks and relationships. 

As I do so, particular items will come into focus and sometimes I turn toward God and start talking with Him about it; asking Him for His perspective, or a solution to a problem, or just sharing my heart about the topic. After talking for a bit, we lapse into a comfortable silence, like an old married couple.

But sometimes God breaks the silence and pipes up with something He wants me to consider. Ideas that are not my own intrude, or something unexpectedly catches my eye and draws my attention, sending me off on a different train of thought or initiating a prayerful dialogue with Him. 

Yesterday, it was the shear joy of the dog. We were walking in the wind and rain through a field of high grass when she just took off. She was leaping and running in wild circles in a sort of ecstatic dance.. She would occasionally come back to check in or just look my direction. The look of wildness and excitement in her face could only be described as joy. She was loving it, the wildness of the weather, the freedom of her body, the stimulation of the environment. She kept looking in my direction as if to say, "Isn't this great! Come run with me!" I smiled and walked on, unhurried, but enjoying her joy.

Then came the nudge...I realized that my birthright as a child of God is that kind of joy and freedom. The fruit of the Spirit is joy! I too can run with reckless abandon, playing in the fields of the Lord, because He is with me. His rod and His staff, they comfort me. 

Because He is with me and will not leave me or abandon me, because His eye is ever fixed on me, I can release my worry and hyper-vigilant self-protection. He is close, He will warn me if danger enters the field. He will call me back from my wild romp if need be. But he also walks on toward the destination that He knows, unhurried but not unmoved. 

He shares in my joy and spurs me on to love and good deeds, to the eternal kind of life that I long for! He knows the end from the beginning and He is working it all out for my good. My only task then is to walk with Him through life, tuning my ear to His voice and remaining open to His direction. All the rest is play in the fields.

Instant Maturity

I was talking to a friend today about growth. He is growing and it is my privilege to walk alongside him on this leg of the journey. As we were talking, he mentioned how discouraged he was that he was not further along.

I resonate with that. There have been many times in my life that I find myself wondering how long I will continue to struggle in the same area. How many times I will make the same mistakes?Many of us are not where we want to be, where we aspire to be. We want to be further on in our walk, more mature, and we want it yesterday. (On the other hand, I see many who have implicitly decided that more is not possible. They have fallen into apathy and self-satisfaction, but that is a topic for another day.)

As I talked to my friend this morning, our conversation meandered to the topic of trees. He told me that it takes seven to eight years for a fruit tree to reach maturity. It starts can start to bear fruit within 3 years but has a long way to go to maturity. We can create the right environment for growth and protect it from impediments to growth, but ultimately it just takes that long for it to grow to maturity. It is unrealistic to expect a tree to grow faster than it will grow. It would be silly to get frustrated at a tree for not growing faster.

I think that we are often frustrated with our growth because we have been given false expectations. We live in a post-industrial information age. We have grown used to mechanistic growth and the idea that a new and improved formula can produce greater, faster, and more efficient growth than ever before. We are accustomed to nearly instant everything.  This mindset has crept into all areas of our life including our spiritual life and has warped our expectations.

This unrealistic cultural expectation is further exacerbated by an over simplistic understanding of the Gospel. We have reduced the gospel to merely the atonement, ie. getting saved. While it is true that the death and resurrection of Christ is the central historical fact of the Christianity, the Gospel is much more than simply that. The Good News is that we have been invited into a relationship with the Triune God. The atoning sacrifice of Christ makes this possible, but the Good News is more than just getting saved. We can enter into a vibrant, live giving relationship with God that begins here and now and lasts forever. This is the Gospel.

Like any relationship, it begins at some point, but the beginning is not the end. It is merely the launching point for a new kind of life, a life with God. It takes time for us to grow to maturity. It will be years, not days or weeks, or even months from spiritual birth to maturity. We must not be too hard on ourselves in the process, but neither should we give up the pressing on that is required of us. We must do all we can to eliminate the things that will impede our growth and to build into our lives the things that will promote it, but ultimately we grow organically at the rate of the Spirit. The Spirit is not slow as some understand slowness, and neither does He move too fast.

At just the right speed, He is creating the new and improved version of me. One day at a time, one small step of growth at a time, I am being made mature and complete. I am not there yet, but I am on the way.

Fear and Love

John tells us that true love casts out fear. He goes on to say that in perfect love there is no fear. (1 Jn. 4:18) I guess my love is not perfect, because I find myself struggling with fear today.

This is a pretty rare experience for me. I am a generally confident guy who goes through life with a glass half full perspective, but there are a few things in my life at the moment that have brought up fear in me. It is so unfamiliar to me, that I couldn't have named it until today.

I was walking through the fields today, talking with God. I was asking Him to help me understand what has been driving me toward the old cisterns lately. Suddenly, it was crystal clear. I realized that I am afraid. I have been trying to escape from the pain of fear. The revelation seemed to come from outside of me, but I knew immediately that it was correct. Naming it allowed me to feel it and I suddenly had tears in my eyes. 

The things I am fearing are not fantasies, they are based in real circumstances I am facing. But that does not make them real. I have been more and more convinced lately that the future has no actual existence, and when I attempt to live in the imagined future, I can not really meet God there. God lives in the NOW. He is the I AM. He is always NOW! So, here in the present is where I must meet Him and where my love for Him must be perfected. His love for me is already perfect and total.

All of this is complicated by the fact that I no longer believe that God promises to deliver us in the triumphalist way that I was taught as a child. God does not promise to deliver us from suffering. He does not unfailingly rescue His children from poverty, disease, war, abuse, etc... I have seen too much pain and loss to believe there is a prayer, incantation, ritual, or service, which compels God to act in a particular way. Such beliefs are more akin to magic and shamanism, where the supernatural world can be manipulated or bent to our will, than to the Biblical picture of a fiercely free, all powerful, and independent God who does whatever He wills. 

I do love and trust this God, but I do not know what He will do. He may not deliver me from the things I fear. He hasn't always in the past. Does this make Him untrustworthy?  No, but it forces me to redefine my trust and face my fears. Do I trust God or trust that He will deliver a particular outcome. Do I trust His person and character? I feel like I am losing my faith in prayer as a productive force, but growing deeper in my love and dependence on the God who actually answers prayer. 

He met me today in the fields. He showed me my heart. We talked. He did not promise to deliver me, in fact, He did not directly address the questions I asked. But He was there. That's worth something. My fear is still with me, but it is diminished somewhat by His presence. Perhaps my love is being perfected even through this.

We read in Hebrews that Jesus was made perfect through suffering. (Heb. 2:10) What makes me think that my path will be more comfortable than His?

Just One More

I just got back from a long walk through the country side, across the cliff tops, and along the beach. I am pondering some of the things that I learned along the way. There is probably more than can be reasonably put into one blog... So I'll start with this: I always need to do just one more thing.

Today, I walked farther than I intended. The thing about walking is that the farther you go, the longer it will take to get back. Every step forward to see what is around the next point or over the next hill, is a step you will have travel again on the way back. As my curiosity carried me farther and farther from home, I  learned (again) that I have a hard time stopping. I set out with a specific goal in mind, a castle on the coast that is just a little farther than I usually walk. An hour later, as I drew near to the castle, I was eyeing the point on the coast beyond the castle. As I rounded that point, I saw an interesting rock formation calling out for investigation and another point beyond that. I just kept going.

In our family, we joke about my proclivity for more. We say, "If 1 is good then 2 is better. If 2 is good then 3 is outstanding. If 3 is good then 4 is tremendous." I remember one of the earliest commercials for MTV featured Billy Idol saying, "Too much is never enough!" I probably remember that ad because it so captures my approach to life.

I saw it again today. I went farther than I should have and so other things I needed to do were left undone. Nothing major, but it was another reminder of the difference between my intentions and my actions.

Today on the quietness of the deserted beach I found myself wondering about why I do this. Why do I always want to see what is around the next point? Why do I always want to do one last email? Why do I always want to play one more turn of a game, read one more chapter, watch one more episode of a sitcom, or watch one more movie? I am so grateful that the "more" things are not as damaging as the things that I once hungered for, but what is up with my seemingly insatiable desire for "just one more"?

Olympic Training for Listening?

The Bible is such an interesting book. No matter how many times I read it, there will always be something new waiting to jump off the page. The Spirit draws my attention, or I suddenly feel the distance between my mindset and what I am reading.

This happened to me the other day as I was reading Hebrews chapter five. At the end of the chapter we find a description of those who are mature and immature. The recipients of the letter are mildly rebuked for being immature and not being able to understand. It seems a bit harsh to reprimand them in this way. Why would God rebuke someone for failing to understand?

In the final verse of the chapter, we find the reason for the rebuke. We read that the mature have become so through practicing. They have learned to discern by exercising their senses. The word used for exercise is an active word. It carries the sense of training for the Olympic Games.
 
They are rebuked not because they don't understand but because they had failed to train themselves. Their lack of discernment, their immaturity was a result of their choice. They chose not to train like an athlete preparing for the Olympics, and therefore lacked discernment. They had not learned to listen.

More times than I care to remember, I have griped about the silence of God. Why doesn't God tell me this or that? I wonder how many times I have not discerned God's voice because I have not seriously trained. Like athletes with various levels of natural skill, discernment may come easier for some, but we can all grow in it through intentional training.

I do not mean to say that God will always answer. There are times of silence, even in the most intimate relationships. But, I wonder if we don't often mistake our inability to listen with His unwillingness to speak.

Praying and cycling

I am starting to realize just how little I know about prayer.  It's not that I haven't read about prayer, or study the topic in the scriptures.  I admit that I have a lot left to learn cognitively about prayer, and even more left to understand.  But my need for knowledge goes beyond the cognitive.  What I am realizing is that I am only now beginning my journey in the area of prayer.

I feel like a man who years ago became interested in cycling.  I read books about the history of cycling.  I go to bike shops and talk to cyclists.  I read about the lives and experiences of great cyclists.  I even attend the odd cycling event from time to time.  But until very recently I never really got on to a bike, or at least never rode much.  I occasionally rode my bike down the street or around town, but never really trained, never devoted myself to it.  So, despite years of learning I am still a novice.

The real knowledge comes in the doing.  Years ago I had a mentor tell me that you learn about praying by praying.  I nodded sagely and asked him if he could recommend a book about that.  Recently I have redoubled my efforts at serious prayer.  I find that it is tremendously hard work.  It really is true that the learning is in the doing.  I devote myself to prayer and am left tired and drained, not unlike a novice bicycler who has not built up his stamina.  I am amazed at how exhausted I am after a time of intercession.  I feel like I have been carrying real physical burdens, a deep bone tiredness.  It is hard to push myself to continue to pray when I feel like I have "hit the wall".I have to remind myself that I have much to learn.  I want to keep learning and to find what is beyond the wall. 

Learn to Discern

I desperately want to know God.  I want to know Him personally and to interact with Him.  It isn't that I don't know God's Name.  I know His Name and I know Him personally, but I want to know Him more.  I have talked with Him and on a few occasions I have heard His reply to my question or my cry.  It's not that He is fully unknown.

I want to know Him like I want to know my wife.  I want to know the way she is thinking.  I want to understand her emotions.  I want to know what makes her smile and what makes her mad; but it's not just the information I want, it's the connection.  I want to know her and I want to be known by her.  I want to belong to her and for her to belong to me.  Of course all of this is already true on one level, but I want more.

I read His Word.  I pray and I worship in song.  I feel His presence, but not with the kind of regularity that I want, that I believe is possible.  I want to hear His voice and to be able to tell the difference between His voice and the other voices echoing in my head.  I want to be able to know when it is Him speaking and when it is just me, my parents, or my culture.  I want to learn to rightly discern His voice.

This is not just idle curiosity.  As a Christian I believe that Christ is my Saviour as well as my model for life and ministry.  I want to live like Christ.  Jesus always only did what He saw His Father doing.  I can't do that right now, because more often than not I have no idea what God is doing.  I am sure that He is at work, but only rarely can I trace His fingerprints on a situation until after the fact.  So, I need to train my senses, my mind, and my heart to be alert to Him and His movements.  I believe that discernment is both a gift and a skill, or rather a gift that God gives to all His children that can be increased with practice.  I want to learn to discern.