I hate it when people only post once ever other blue moon. Why even bother at all! Ok, that's me, I know, j/k. :)

So my thoughts of late have gathered around this mysterious paradox we call faith. I can't help but question the conditional/unconditional nature of this faith. I'm firmly convinced there is nothing good in me that seeks after God on my own, so this faith in Him is not, indeed can not be from me alone...and therefore, unconditional, by the grace of God. (Note: There are many references I could quote such as Romans 3 or Ephesians 2:8, but I choose not to because of the recent abundance of what one may call "proof-texting". I would rather you search the whole of Scripture and judge my conclusions and questions based on what you discover of the character of God.) On the other hand, I have different fingers...I mean ;) I'm also firmly convinced that any so called faith that does not result in the obedience of love is really no saving faith at all, but merely belief, like that of the demons who believe in God, and therefore, conditional upon the free choices I make. So in any attempt toward delicately balancing the total sovereignty of God and the free will of man, even in regards to faith, one must be quite comfortable with the mystery of a God who's ways and thoughts are higher than ours, which is where I find myself during my deliberations.

Other related questions include the idea of two levels of justification, that of the nation of Israel when they made the Levitical sacrifices, and that of the faithful saints like Moses who was declared the "friend of God", and then, recognizing the process of the spiritual life, when exactly is that moment of regeneration when the Holy Spirit resides in our hearts. I suppose scholars have long since debated and will continue endlessly to debate far deeper questions of theology than mine, so I suppose I'm ever condemned to an incomplete understanding, like Paul, until the day we see clearly and no longer as though through a glass. Although at that point, how important will understanding really be. :) Either way, thanks for pondering with me.

ps. If you haven't checked it out yet, take a look at the blog site for my team going to Namibia. You can follow along with all the latest happenings during our trip from July 1st-17th.

Lately I've been reading this great book (HIGHLY recommend it) called Messy Spirituality by Mike Yaconelli. It's been instrumental in reshaping how I think about spirituality, which seems to be quite the theme in my posts of late. We seem to equate spirituality with the absence of sin. The more I grow up spiritually, the less sinful I become. So why is it that the most spiritual people I know are the ones most conscience of their sin? Since when have we ever had to clean ourselves up before we come to God? Why do we think we can hide our sin from God to look spiritual like we do with everyone else on Sunday mornings? Remember what Jesus said to the Pharisees? God isn't looking for spiritual people! He's looking for people who know nothing but their sin, and therefore their great need for Him. Perhaps true spirituality looks quite different from the very spiritual people we see, or pretend to be, on Sunday mornings. Perhaps God's much more ready to move in the lives of sinners than of spiritual people. Perhaps we need to stop turning messy sinners away from the doors of the church and instead, invite them into the love of God. Perhaps it's not until we become unescapably aware of our sin that we start to understand true spirituality.

Of course, as with anything else, this sounds far easier said than done. And what about sanctification? Aren't we suppose to be pursuing holiness? I mean, sure people can be messy before they meet Jesus, but then after that don't we want to assimilate them into little church people? Kinda reminds me of Paul writing to the Galatians saying, "Having begun by the Spirit, are you now being perfected by human effort?" But more on that later....

I was recently reading an article about the theology of youth ministry and I happened upon an interesting question, illustrated here in youth ministry but applicable in the context of contemplation which has recently consumed my thinking. Kenda Dean writes,

"Do young people experience God as synonymous with particular people (like their small group) or a particular practice of ministry (like singing with a praise band) or a particular context (like camp)? Or have we helped them develop a repertoire of faith practices supple enough to take Christianity beyond any single faith experience?" (Getting out of God's Way, YouthWorker Journal, Jan/Feb 2005)

I've slowly been coming to realize our facination with destination has betrayed our possibilities for an intimate, ongoing relationship with God. We have come to live our lives at destinations like church, camp, or youth group, and ignore the journey, which in fact consumes the majority of our lives. I fear my failure to "practice the presence of God," as Brother Lawrence would say, has left me starving for the next experience and missing the joy, the beauty, the adventure of the journey. It's the heart of the contemplative, those disciplines or faith practices as Dean calls them, that brings the experience of God through the Spirit into our daily journey. So rather than relying on a 30-minute devotional time to last the whole day, the whole of our journey is filled with the joy of experiencing God. Idealistic, perhaps, but then what good is a vision that's not.

The Spiritual Life. What's that even mean? Everybody's got their own idea of what it's all about. Some people limit spirituality to all that Eastern mysticism stuff thinking it's all about meditating to a higher state of consciousness until you reach ultimate godness or something along those lines. A more popular answer in the church is that spirituality is determined by our private devotional lives. Those people feel they are spiritual when their daily routine includes some form or devotional Bible reading and prayer time. They are content with church attendance, blessing meals, and following an unwritten code of spiritual maturity as means towards a thriving connection with God. The irony befalling their situation is that their goal of self-righteousness is the very thing starving the inner life they claim to nurture.

Jesus spoke to this in Matthew 23. "Everything they do is for show....[They] are so careful to clean the outside of the cup and the dish, but inside [they] are filthy-full of greed and self-indulgence!...[They] are like whitewashed tombs-beautiful on the outside but filled on the inside with dead people's bones and all sorts of impurity. [They] try to look like upright people outwardly, but inside [their] hearts are filled with hypocrisy and lawlessness."

Striving so hard to look righteous on the outside simply leads to a critical spirit, bitterness, anger, and judgmentalism. They must expend so much energy to keep up the facade of perfection, constantly comparing themselves to others who don't match up. Aren't those the very kinds of things we're trying to leave behind by nurturing this spiritual life? Keith Green understood this controversy when he wrote, "Somehow I feel that it would be more pleasing to God if I wasn't 'doing my duty' at all, but I was madly in love with Him, constantly praying to Him and living off His Word. In fact I know this to be true, but I can't seem to 'give up' my 'devotional life.' I am afraid that my soulish flesh will just take advantage of my leap of faith and turn me into a Word-less, prayer-less monster."

So we must turn our attention about the spiritual from the external to the internal. The spiritual life is just that, the life of the spirit, that very hunger in the soul of man that cries out for more. In our efforts to renew the inner life of the spirit by focusing on the external is like washing only the outside of the dishes, or decorating a coffin. So let's abandon our striving for external spirituality and allow a renewed inner life to transform our public life. This naturally begs the question, how does one go about renewing the inner life, which is exactly where we'll pick up next time.

I recently drove by a car dealership that advertised "Audi, loaded, $650." I found myself thinking there's gotta be something seriously wrong with that car if it's loaded and it's only $650. Shouldn't you be looking for a car that actually drives whether it's loaded or not? After all what good is a loaded Audi sitting in the driveway because the engine's trashed. 'At least it looks good.'

But isn't that often how we inventory our own spiritual lives? I sit in the pew every Sunday, whether I actually engage or not. I read my Bible every morning, whether I actually learn anything or not. I spend my five minutes a day thinking about prayer requests, whether I actually connect with God or not. I fear that the church is full of fully loaded Christians that, when it all comes down to it, have nothing but rusty engine parts under the hood. They look great on the outside, but when it comes to a real relationship with God they're found lacking.

The tragedy is that many well meaning Christians don't even acknowledge the gaping hole at the center of their lives because they're too busy, as the adage goes, rearranging deck furniture on the Titanic. They exhaust all their energies working so hard at being a good Christian, keeping up with their spiritual disciplines to-do list, which ironically is never satisfied, and they don't even recognize that as a problem! They don't even comprehend what Jesus meant when He said His yoke was easy and His burden light. And we wonder why so many Christians are left feeling tired, overworked, and unfulfilled, doubting why they ever signed up for this in the first place.

Now I'll be the first to say this is just a symptom of many deeper issues, but toward a remedy I've been discovering some additional contemplative disciplines that we often forget. Somehow we've gotten the idea that silence, solitude, fasting, journaling, meditating, etc. were all gratefully buried in the dark ages with the ancient monks. But perhaps these long forgotten practices are the very thing we need to transform our spirituality from simply a necessary inconvenience into a meaningful relationship with the Almighty.

More on this later, but for now I'll suffice to say, take some time to slow down. Take a vacation from the exhausting efforts that keep us captive when we put our faith in the law, or better yet, take early retirement. Remember, Jesus didn't come to earth so we could spend a lifetime perfecting our spiritual duties; He came that we might "know the Father." May that be the cry of your life, and mine.