Osteoporosis of a Spiritual-Kind
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
After reading the first chapter of Hustling God, I confessed to being a "hunter of sacred gifts," always worried that blessings were something I had to achieve, acquire, seek, earn.
In the second chapter, author Craig Barnes focuses on how hunting for sacred gifts tempts us to pretend (paradoxically) not to be more, but less than who we really are. Barnes says, "Desiring to become something greater than we are, we tragically become so much less than we were created to be."
In our success-focused, climb-the-ladder, strive-for-your-greatest-potential culture, this can be a difficult concept to grasp. But, I think Barnes' statement is true! When I'm tempted to believe that my journey is about "getting life right," or "learning my lessons" so to speak, I wrongly reach for approval, acceptance, or blessing in a way that bends my posture towards something outside of myself. I no longer stand upright in truth. I hunch over and away from the truth of who Christ has created me to be.
Barnes refers to this bent posture as "favorite temptations" or "besetting sins," and he uses the language of cars to describe it. (Masculine or mechanical metaphors don't usually work for me, but this one does!) Barnes says, "My first car had a serious allignment problem. The tires were bent on leading the car to the right. If I didn't compensate by constantly pulling the steering wheel to the left, I would end up in the ditch. Your besetting sin refers to your allignment problem, to the particular thing that will send your life into the ditch if you don't compensate for it. Typically, these besetting sins are shared among a family, which is where we learn them."
This makes complete sense to me. My natural bent or allignment problem is so achievement-driven, it explains why I am always "compensating" with Grace. I starve for the healing message of "God's power perfected in my weakness." And much of my grace journey has been accepting--learning to love and live in--my human limitations. When I'm trying to be "spiritual," "righteous," or "more perfect," I end up being so much less than what God has in mind for me. On the other hand, when I acknowledge my pains, problems, difficulties and challenges, I am actually open to the healing, changing, restorative power of God. I am more myself and who I was designed to be.
Barnes points out that even Adam and Eve were created with limitations. Created with limitations! I've never thought of it this way before. But, how strange that sin started when these two garden-dwellers were tempted to deny their limitations, ignore them, pridefully believe that God had created them to be, know,and achieve more.
Anyway, all of this brings Barnes to the point that blessings are not necessarily given to those who are morally upright, or perfectly alligned. . . because the story of Jacob proves that those with a bent towards deceit get blessed, generation after generation. And strangely enough, characters within Jacob's story who appear to be outside of God's blessing actually have higher morals. He says, "Again this is evidence that the blessing flows only from the grace of God." There are no conditions for receiving God's blessing. No hoops through which we need to jump.
Okay, you've hung with me so far. . . and I know this is getting long. But, what does this all mean to me and my life right now? When life gets hard (like it is now) I can freak out (apart from the message of grace) because I too easily fear that I've missed the blessing. I've screwed up somehow. Which makes me think I have to spin my wheels harder and harder to get out of the ditch. But all of this freaking out is just bent behavior. I need to claim that I am a new creation of God and trust that he is making me into a blessing that only he can make of me by grace.
Barnes says, "Today it may not be at all clear how he will do that. But that is a Savior's worry. For now, it is enough to claim our identity as the cherished daughters and sons with whom the heavenly Father is well-pleased. The more we believe that, the easier it will be to fight off the great temptation that has plagued us since our childhood--pretending to be something less than we really are."
In the second chapter, author Craig Barnes focuses on how hunting for sacred gifts tempts us to pretend (paradoxically) not to be more, but less than who we really are. Barnes says, "Desiring to become something greater than we are, we tragically become so much less than we were created to be."
In our success-focused, climb-the-ladder, strive-for-your-greatest-potential culture, this can be a difficult concept to grasp. But, I think Barnes' statement is true! When I'm tempted to believe that my journey is about "getting life right," or "learning my lessons" so to speak, I wrongly reach for approval, acceptance, or blessing in a way that bends my posture towards something outside of myself. I no longer stand upright in truth. I hunch over and away from the truth of who Christ has created me to be.
Barnes refers to this bent posture as "favorite temptations" or "besetting sins," and he uses the language of cars to describe it. (Masculine or mechanical metaphors don't usually work for me, but this one does!) Barnes says, "My first car had a serious allignment problem. The tires were bent on leading the car to the right. If I didn't compensate by constantly pulling the steering wheel to the left, I would end up in the ditch. Your besetting sin refers to your allignment problem, to the particular thing that will send your life into the ditch if you don't compensate for it. Typically, these besetting sins are shared among a family, which is where we learn them."
This makes complete sense to me. My natural bent or allignment problem is so achievement-driven, it explains why I am always "compensating" with Grace. I starve for the healing message of "God's power perfected in my weakness." And much of my grace journey has been accepting--learning to love and live in--my human limitations. When I'm trying to be "spiritual," "righteous," or "more perfect," I end up being so much less than what God has in mind for me. On the other hand, when I acknowledge my pains, problems, difficulties and challenges, I am actually open to the healing, changing, restorative power of God. I am more myself and who I was designed to be.
Barnes points out that even Adam and Eve were created with limitations. Created with limitations! I've never thought of it this way before. But, how strange that sin started when these two garden-dwellers were tempted to deny their limitations, ignore them, pridefully believe that God had created them to be, know,and achieve more.
Anyway, all of this brings Barnes to the point that blessings are not necessarily given to those who are morally upright, or perfectly alligned. . . because the story of Jacob proves that those with a bent towards deceit get blessed, generation after generation. And strangely enough, characters within Jacob's story who appear to be outside of God's blessing actually have higher morals. He says, "Again this is evidence that the blessing flows only from the grace of God." There are no conditions for receiving God's blessing. No hoops through which we need to jump.
Okay, you've hung with me so far. . . and I know this is getting long. But, what does this all mean to me and my life right now? When life gets hard (like it is now) I can freak out (apart from the message of grace) because I too easily fear that I've missed the blessing. I've screwed up somehow. Which makes me think I have to spin my wheels harder and harder to get out of the ditch. But all of this freaking out is just bent behavior. I need to claim that I am a new creation of God and trust that he is making me into a blessing that only he can make of me by grace.
Barnes says, "Today it may not be at all clear how he will do that. But that is a Savior's worry. For now, it is enough to claim our identity as the cherished daughters and sons with whom the heavenly Father is well-pleased. The more we believe that, the easier it will be to fight off the great temptation that has plagued us since our childhood--pretending to be something less than we really are."
