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October 5 - October 5, 2021
What use are the superficial changes we make if we neglect the deep work God wants to do inside us?
Instead of being deeply formed, we settle for being shallowly shaped.
five values in which we need to be deeply formed.
1. Contemplative rhythms for an exhausted life.
Most of us live at a nonstop outward pace, which leaves no time to be with God and actually does violence against our souls.
2. Racial reconciliation for a divided world.
3. Interior examination for a world living on the surface.
4. Sexual wholeness for a culture that splits bodies from souls.
5. Missional presence for a distracted and disengaged people.
Parker Palmer makes a compelling case that burnout typically does not come about because we’ve given so much of ourselves that we have nothing left. He tells us, “It merely reveals the nothingness from which I was trying to give in the first place.”
“It is only when we slow down our lives that we can catch up to God.”
Dallas Willard famously said, “Hurry is the great enemy of spiritual life in our day.”
Monastic spirituality means slowing our lives down to be with God. In a world that operates at a frenetic pace and with the addiction of achievement, slowing down brings us to a place of centeredness and stillness before God. It gives us the opportunity to be present to God throughout the day.
Christianity had experienced a drastic cultural shift whereby people purported to enter into life with God and the church not by renunciation of the ways of the world system but by appropriating it through political and cultural power.
We are regularly being formed by the pace, noise, and values of the surrounding world. Yet to be deeply formed is to regularly come back to a different rhythm—a rhythm marked by communion, reflection, and a life-giving pace that enables us to offer our presence to the present moment.
This is the paradox of following Jesus. It’s only when we leave the world that we can truly be at home in it.
I sometimes imagine a scenario in which someone is locked inside of a supermarket and dies of starvation. Can you imagine? You might say this is impossible. Yet in our spiritual lives, this happens every day. Whether we know it or not, we are locked inside the supermarket of God’s abundant life and love. It’s all available to us. Even so, people are spiritually starving. But it doesn’t have to be this way.
silent prayer is not a technique to master but a relationship to enter into.
In silent prayer, we are constantly called to let go of the need to achieve mastery or to perform well.
There is no such thing as being professionals at prayer. We are always beginners.
Silent prayer is often something I want to avoid because it forces me to exorcise the demons of excitement, stimulation, and distraction.
I used to believe that distraction while in prayer was a sign that I was a bad Christian. As it turns out, distraction in prayer is a sign that I’m a human being.
Our distractions, whether in the moment of silent prayer or in the moment of steady demands, do not need to ruin our lives with God. Our distractions become invitations to return, ever so silently, back to the center of God’s heart.
The beauty of Christian spirituality is that the God we are in relationship with is for us in Christ. Like the father in the prodigal son story, God is waiting with his eyes looking for us in the distance. He is waiting to embrace us. This image might take some getting used to, but it’s one we need to remind ourselves of constantly. God just wants us home.
When we closely examine the story of the prodigal son, we see an image of love that is to shape our image of God. The prodigal son doesn’t return with a renewed love for his father; he comes back simply to survive. And his father is perfectly fine with that. God just wants us home.
The contemplative life is about slowing down our pace to create space for God to transform us by his grace.
Sabbath is an invitation to a life that isn’t dominated and distorted by overwork.
The story of Scripture is not really about human performance so much as it is about how God has performed over and over for his people. This is good news for all of us. God’s care and love for you is not based on how well you perform and live.
Biblically, work is inherently a good thing. God worked at creation and made humans to do the same.
Our obsession with work has predictably made us destructive people.
Tragically, many people have no choice but to work endlessly, often at multiple jobs. My point is, whether by obsession or oppression, we live a destructive way of life. The kind of destruction I’m talking about is against our bodies and souls and, consequently, against others.
The Sabbath reminds us of the gospel of grace. In actuality, Sabbath keeping might be the greatest sign of grace because it’s while we are intentionally accomplishing nothing that God loves us.
Sabbath Is Not a Reward Earned for Hard Work
Sabbath Is a Reminder That Our Work Remains Incomplete
In the practice of Sabbath keeping, we live out the truth that one day we will leave all things unfinished as we rest in the arms of Jesus.
Sabbath Is a Day That Moves Us from Production to Presence
Sabbath is not just rest from making things. It’s rest from the need to make something of ourselves.
Sabbath creates a space for a holy unawareness in a world of technological omniscience.
Sabbath Points Us to the Deeper Rest We Need
This consumption culture has profoundly influenced the way we engage (or don’t engage) holy Scripture. Instead of slowly ingesting the truth of God’s written Word, we live on the surface of the text, rarely settled enough to hear God’s particular word to us in the particular season of our lives.
lectio divina. It simply means sacred reading, and it’s a practice of slowing down and chewing on Scripture through four movements: lectio, meditatio, oratio, and contemplatio; that is, reading, meditation, prayer, and contemplation.
Contemplative life is not a solo enterprise; it is an invitation to a shared life with others.
The real question of Christian discipleship is not can I be your brother in Christ, but can I be your brother-in-law?”
Who can’t your child marry? Who do you feel uneasy about having in your home? Questions like these help us get to the core of our racial situations.
The Cross of Christ isn’t just a bridge that gets us to God; it’s a sledgehammer that breaks down walls that separate us.
One could argue that the primary fruit of the gospel is not going to heaven when you die but rather the miraculous new family that is created out of the death and resurrection of Jesus.
The gospel we proclaim must be big enough to engage the realities of racial fragmentation.
Sadly, there is often a hyperspiritual perspective held by many Christians who see racial justice and reconciliation as optional or ancillary to the gospel.
It is my conviction that the gospel at its core is not merely the good news of a soteriological transaction (a fancy way of saying “getting saved”). The gospel at its core is centrally about the story and victory of Jesus; the risen and enthroned Lord is our good news. And further, this gospel has specific purposes for the healing of our world.
George Eldon Ladd, in his short but seminal book on the gospel of the kingdom, wrote, “The Gospel must not only offer a personal salvation in the future life to those who believe; it must also transform all of the relationships of life here and now and thus cause the Kingdom of God to prevail in all the world.”
