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Category: Faith Challenges

The Character of Faith Challenges (part 1)

Thoughts on faith challenges in the first half of life.  


As I think about my early “faith challenges” it is hard to make sense of them knowing what I now know about faith. My faith was misguided, trusting God to reward  my ability and willingness to learn and do what he commanded. 

How could such a misguided faith result in so many so many positive outcomes? 

Richard Rohr’s book Falling Upward: A Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life has helped me begin to sort out that conundrum. Some insightful excerpts regarding the first half of life follow:

The first half of life is discovering the script, and the second half is actually writing it and owning it.

…in my opinion, this first-half-of-life task is no more than finding the starting gate. It is merely the warm-up act, not the full journey. It is the raft but not the shore. If you realize that there is a further journey, you might do the warm-up act quite differently, which would better prepare you for what follows. People at any age must know about the whole arc of their life and where it is tending and leading.

The first-half-of-life container, nevertheless, is constructed through impulse controls; traditions; group symbols; family loyalties; basic respect for authority; civil and church laws; and a sense of the goodness, value, and special importance of your country, ethnicity, and religion

Law and tradition seem to be necessary in any spiritual system both to reveal and to limit our basic egocentricity, and to make at least some community, family, and marriage possible.

 Considering those ideas and my experience, I would suggest what I consider faith challenges for the first half:

  • SIN   

Although I described sin management as a challenge to my faith development, paradoxically sin management is essential to “keeping the raft afloat”, to use Rohr’s metaphor. Awareness/fear of the destructive nature of sin and the practical need to restrain it, can provide a life preserver that will keep one afloat through the early years. 

Ideally, sin management would come through reliance on the power of the Holy Spirit rather than self-reliance. No matter what the under lying motivation, every effort must be made to restrain sin.

A practical implication relates to discipling people in their early years, is the need for clear and unequivocal insistence on morally upright lives. That requirement must not be divorced from consistent spiritual guidance that leads to deeper understanding of the nature of sin and and faith that truly manages sin and rejects legalistic law keeping.

  • MYOPIA

nearsightedness, lack of imagination, foresight, or intellectual insight.

One trait that gives sin a strategic advantage is myopia. The inability to see ultimate consequences of sin makes resistance less likely. 

Today’s culture is broadly characterized by impatience, a need for immediate gratification, short term gains, et al. The language of older people betrays the ubiquity  of myopia: “If I had only known”… Didn’t see that coming”… “if I could go back”… and so on. Probably the greatest frustration of senior adults is the refusal of young people to look ahead and listen to the voice of experience.  

Like myself, many young adults live life like driving a car at breakneck speeds only paying attention the next 50 feet of road. As Rohr says “People at any age must know about the whole arc of their life and where it is tending and leading.”

Spiritual guidance has potential to provide corrective lens for the myopia of youth  but the hindsight of mature Christians is 20/20.  Developing meaningful  intergenerational relationships can go along way in mitigating myopia.

  • DISENCHANTMENT

The first half of life is discovering the script…

In some recent writings, I contended that: “Living in a disenchanted age is the most significant challenge we face in seeking a relationship with God’. My spiritual heritage is a product of disenchantment and the “faith” of my memoir is its offspring.  

Charles Taylor and my favored blogger Richard Beck have provide some understanding  of the disenchanted age in which we live. 

The default mode for the disenchanted age is reliance on human ability/reason and scientific laws as an ultimate source for answers to the problems of modernity. Utility, efficiency and production are our preimemmant tools to achieve full potential as human beings. Inherently, disenchantment rejects the transcendent. Mystery, fantasy, spirituality, faith, divinity, magic, art, namely, enchantment, is rendered irrelevant. our existence in a disenchanted age is reduced to one dimension, removing depth and meaning and distorting the purpose of our lives. As Beck describes, “When creation is stripped of its holy, sacred and enchanted character …it becomes–material. Raw, disenchanted material. Inert stuff. Piles of particles.”

I believe disenchantment to be the most difficult faith challenge for several reasons.

 

  1. Disenchantment as defined above is in opposition to the very nature of a transcendent faith. Inherently, disenchantment rejects the transcendent. Mystery, fantasy, spirituality, faith, divinity, magic, art, namely, enchantment, is rendered irrelevant. As an example, athoughtful examination of disenchantment will expose its inherent negative implications to prayer and illustrate its perniciousness.
  2. Disenchantment is the air we breathe. We are so immersed we have very little objective awareness of its threat to our faith. If Rohr is correct that the first half of life is discovering the script, our script will be distorted by disenchantment and leave us ill prepared for the second half of life. 
  3. Ironically, the effects of disenchantment have created a vacuum of purpose, meaning and enchantment that provides unprecedented opportunity for the gospel.  Accordingly, meeting the faith challenge of disenchantment will depend upon presenting the gospel in a way that fills that vacuum.

Faith Challenges – A Memoir

Recently I was asked about my faith challenges at different stages of my life. What follows is a memoir of my faith struggle in the first part of my life.


The character of  faith struggles depends upon our understanding of faith. In my heritage, faith that saved was was trusting that God had graciously sent his son to die for me. I was saved because I had complied with the necessary commands for salvation, i.e. hear believe, repent, confess and be baptized. Once I was saved, the focus of my faith became assuring that I did not lose my salvation. I had faith that my salvation was secure as long as I did not sin or, if I did, ask God for forgiveness. Unforgiven sin was a deal breaker. Getting forgiveness was easy enough, assuming you didn’t die before you could ask forgiveness. 

Sin was a big deal. Sins of commission and sins of omission. Accordingly, my faith struggle became one of sin management. The struggle was two fold, on one hand there was the “don’t imperative”, and, on the other hand there was the “do imperative”. 

With the “don’t imperative” , my faith challenge was adhering to the “do not” commands of scripture. Because it was understood that keeping all those “do not” commands was not practical, an unwritten list evolved to help manage sin and maintain a Christian reputation.  The list was contextual, it’s content and priorities varied according to cultural, geographic and theological realities. 

Commonly, it would include: do not …lie, cheat, steal, cuss, drink, chew, smoke, fornicate, masturbate, worship with an instrument, divorce, et al.  Of course, there are many other “do not” commands in scripture, but the list needed to contain reasonably manageable sins. Also, many “do not” sins were internal, i.e. pride, envy and so on, and did not lend themselves to management and were less critical in maintaining outward appearance. Also, their private nature avoided the need for public confession and a plea for forgiveness. Though guilt was a constant companion, forgiveness was always handy. 

 

Similarly, there was a “do” list. The do’s are in the category of sins of omission, failure to do as commanded. Not unlike the “do not” list, the “do” list varied. The priority of obedience to  God’s commands was dictated by theology and religious tenets. In my heritage, that list might look something like: “Do”: …go to church, …read the Bible,  …evangelize, …pray, …take communion, …care for the needy, …wear your Sunday best to church, …be hospitable, et al. 

The “do” list established criteria for inclusion. Compliance was not so much needed to maintain salvation as it was necessary for membership and fellowship in the local church.  Of course baptism was prerequisite to any level of inclusion. Since is was believed that anyone who was not a member of our fellowship was going to hell, I suppose the do’s were indirectly deal breakers. 

Oddly, the “do” list do’s were not  lines in the sand. For instance, one could occasionally miss church and maintain their relationship but persistent or protracted absence would bring your faithfulness into question. At some point you would be declared  “out of service” and public confession and repentance would be necessary for restoration. It was never exactly clear when one went “out of service”. 

Understanding that my faith struggle in my first four +/- decades was primarily about sin management, what follows is a summary of how that played out. 

 

  • Because my steady girl friend was Presbyterian, we broke up after high school graduation. I wasn’t willing to go to hell for her.
  • Keenly aware of my sinful habits and friends, I chose to go to a Christian college 1000 miles away to learn to how to better manage my sin. (Also to play football and baseball)
  • After two years of college and mismanagement of sin, Ann and I got engaged and returned home to get married and live in Alabama.
  • After getting a job with Ford in Nashville and feeling the guilt of sin mismanagement we resolved our “out of service” status at a local church. A positive step toward improving sin management. 
  • After two years in Nashville, we moved to Louisville. I took a salaried job with Ford and we joined a local congregation. That congregation became our church home for the next 43 years. It was at this point I became serious about sin management. 
  • Because of the influence of the preacher who became my best friend I managed the “do” list with religious fervor. I began to achieve progress on some do’s. Recruited to teach, I became a regular adult Sunday School teacher and was eventually appointed as a deacon. Some years later I was selected as an elder and served for 18 years.
  • Despite some success with the “do” list, management of the “do not” sins was mostly a struggle, with mediocre success,  at best. My failure was most apparent in my job as a supervisor. The contrast between the George at work and the George at church was a painful reminder of my mismanagement of “do  not” sins. 
  • Understanding the ultimate peril of failure to manage my sin, I chose to intensify my management efforts and  get my life under control. Having decided that my sin problem could not be resolved as long as I continued in my current job, I managed to return to college, get a degree and return to a new job. 
  • The decision to return to college with 4 children and a pregnant wife and no job was the pinnacle of my sin management efforts. 
  • Successfully completing my degree, moving back to Louisville, accepting a new job at Ford and returning to our home church, my faith (sin management) struggle continued. 
  • During the two years to complete my degree there were opportunities and relationships that planted seeds which would bear fruit years later. 
  • For more than a decade my faith challenge remained sin management. I became better at managing “do not” sins and my “faith” was being strengthened. 
  • A turning point in my spiritual journey occurred when serious family issues exposed my sin management faith for what it was, nothing but a rule-keeping system that was alienating me from Christ and, of no value in the midst of unmanageable circumstances. 
  • The transformation that began at that time  led me to understand the true meaning of faith and consequently redefined faith challenges for me.  
More to come.

The Depth of My Sin

I have a list of subjects that I intend to write about. Because of my most recent “blog slog” that list has continued to grow. Having finally forced myself to write something, I am faced with which subject to choose. I have chosen to write about  “The Depth of My Sin”

The following is a true story.

I am a good neighbor. I love my neighbors. I try diligently to help them whenever possible. I am obedient to Jesus’ 2nd most important command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” I find significant righteousness in loving my neighbors. 

Recently, loving my neighbor, as I often do, I had agreed to take my disabled friend and neighbor to his physical therapy appointment. Taking the time to interrupt my day, I arrive at his house to pick him up and was surprised to find that he was not at home. Puzzled, I called him on his cell phone to find out that he was already at the therapist, having gotten another ride. Obviously he had not let me know.  What happened next is disturbing.

I was angry. How could he be so inconsiderate? The least he could have done was give me a call. I had put aside other things to help him. I immediately called on my latent, but highly skilled  talents from my years as a manager at Ford Motor Company to teach (?) correct (?) discipline (?) so he would not do such again. My words were sharp and direct, I spoke truth about his lack of consideration and common curtesy. I was energized by exposing such unacceptable behavior. 

His response was deep contrition and profuse apology. My parting thought, if not my words, was “don’t let it happen again”. 

Only after I ended the call, did it occur to me how much I had shamed my neighbor and reinforced his perceptions of himself that he is a worthless, useless shell of man that has lost his dignity and purpose in life. 

 

I am a good neighbor. I love my neighbors.

Not so much, I do good things for my neighbors, but do I truly love them? 

Do you love your neighbors? Yes Lord! 

Then wash their feet.

Do you love your neighbors? Yes Lord!

Then bind their wounds.

Do you love your neighbors? Yes Lord!

Then love them as I have loved you.

 

Lord help me for I am broken.

HOW IT HAPPENS

Last Sunday’s sermon was based Revelation chapter 2 addressed the “Ephesus problem” – they had abandoned their first love. The quote below was cited and it resonated deeply with me. It could very well be my own testimony as to “how it happens”.

How does it happen, this loss of first first love? My friend Earl Palmer still understands the tragedy best. “The Ephesus problem” he writes, “happens quietly and by gradual imperceptible shifts of focus.” Palmer goes on:

A man or woman is first united with the Christian church because of having discovered and believed in Jesus Christ and his love. After a few years of being a Christian, that person becomes leader in the church with very heavy responsibilities for the fellowship. But something happens along the way. That person – who, because of giftedness and hard work, may now stand at the vortex of church politics and decision making – experiences a subtle shift in style of life. That person is adrift as a disciple and find himself or herself motivated and nourished by the organization or by controversy or by ambition to hold power. The first love has been abandoned, and in its places the starchy, high-cholesterol diet of activity and church work that will never nourish the human soul. 

Palmer the makes this profound insight:

The irony of this latter condition of ‘the Ephesus syndrome’ is that the Christian becomes totally preoccupied, fascinated with themes and goals that would have never won him her in the first place to have joined the church.  Arguments over fine doctrinal points, distinctions of polity, exoteric giftedness, etc. How can it happen to us? It happens to marriages, It happens to human friendships. It happens to the life of discipleship,

“You left your first love.”

Prayer as Conversation

This is a repost from 2007.

Recently a class discussion centered on the idea of prayer being conversation with God. It was suggested that an understanding of prayer as conversation with God can not only have a profound impact on our prayer life, it can be a window through which we can assess our relationship with God. Just as the character of our conversation in human relationships betrays the health of the relationship, so it is with God. For example if conversations with friend or family never progress beyond the trivial and/or self centered yada… yada… yada; at best, the relationship will not grow and most likely will diminish over time. On the other hand, when conversations reflect mutual interest and concern, share inner feelings, fears and desires, it is a sign of a healthy relationship. As I think about this, I am grieved by the shallowness of some of my conversations with friends and family and what that indicates about the quality of our relationship. It is also true of my relationship with God as I think of the prayers I offer and their meagerness and superficialness. It is important to resist the temptation to think that the solution to having healthy relationships is simply start having meaningful conversations. That is not the case. What I am suggesting is that an assessment of the character of our conversations will help us to understand the health of our relationships, it is an occasion for truthfulness. It will force us to the question, “How can my relationship become healthier”? That is the real question. When we answer that question, meaningful conversations will prevail.