Sunday 11 August 2013

Spiritual Discipline: Journaling

Spiritual Journaling can be very meaningful, and it can be very difficult. Why is journaling difficult? 
  • Anxious that someone will read the journal! 
  • Feeling that it’s too painful to go over a conflict or an issue!  
  • A disliking to write things down! 
  • Feeling obligated to write in it every day!

A Spiritual Journal (diary) is a book in which a Christian records the works and ways of God in their life. Other things in the journal include daily events, personal relationships, insights into Scripture, prayer requests. Quotations, interactions with readings, questions, poetry, memories – these are also acceptable journal subjects. There are some God-inspired journals in the Bible. Many psalms are records of David’s personal spiritual journey with the Lord. The journal of Jeremiah’s feelings about the fall of Jerusalem is the book of Lamentations.
Some observations about Spiritual Journaling:
  • Your journal is for you. 
  • Your journal clarifies the reality of your life. Seeing things in print brings a different perspective.
  • Your journal reminds you to live with authenticity and genuineness.
  • Your journal is your future reference.

Spiritual Journaling is not the mere recording of facts about the day’s events.  It is more than keeping a log or diary. 
Spiritual Journaling involves reflection and contemplation.  It record successes and failures, prayers, depression, and  other events and emotions in the lives of human beings who are  serious about living under the will of God.
HOW CAN JOURNALING HELP ME PRACTICALLY?
Journaling can enable one both to remember and to clarify thoughts, feelings and ideas. How many times have you had a keen insight or a significant thought and then it occurred to you, “I really need to write that down”?  However, the idea, the feeling, the    thought was never written and has since been long forgotten.  Such ideas and impressions may forever be lost. 
Journaling can help one become aware of patterns of behavior.  Gordon MacDonald wrote concerning his practice of journaling: “At first it was difficult.  I felt self-conscious.  I was worried that I would lose the journal or that someone might peek inside to see what I’d said.  But slowly the self-consciousness began to fade, and I found myself sharing in the journal more and more of the thoughts that flooded my inner spirit. Into the journal went words describing my feelings, my fear and sense of weakness, my hopes, and my discoveries about where Christ was leading me.  When I felt empty or defeated, I talked about that too in the journal.  Slowly I began to realize that the journal was helping me come to grips with an enormous part of my inner person that I had never been fully honest about.   No longer could fears and struggles remain inside without definition. They were surfaced and confronted… (Gordon MacDonald, Ordering Your Private World, p. 131).
Journaling helps us see patterns that may be present in our lives. Are there recurring themes of anger, rationalization, and negative, destructive thought patterns? The purpose of discovering such a pattern is not simply self-exploration but the intersection of our lives with God’s redemptive work in our world.  Perhaps there are entries which reflect that you are offended and angry quite regularly.  As you read through the entries, ask yourself how a total stranger might perceive you upon reading the same entries. 
Journaling gives the opportunity to reflect upon the day and week in light of our faith.  Unfortunately, too many days and weeks are lived without reflection and thought.  Consequently, there may not be a real awareness of how faith is or is not being integrated into daily life.  So often weeks and months pass and there is not serious contemplation as to where we are in our spiritual journey. 
Keeping a journal allows a built-in time to review and examine the days and weeks in light of one’s faith in Jesus.
Journaling may give important insight about the state of one’s spiritual journey. Reading journal entries from several years back can give insight into the past, the present, and the future. During times of transition, travel, loss, joy, illness and decision making, journaling can provide a way of processing the hopes, fears, longings, angers and prayers of our heart.
Journaling helps maintain the other spiritual Disciplines.
HOW DOES A PERSON KEEP A JOURNAL?
Have a definite time each day for writing in the journal.
Select a journal that fits your preferences.
Write on a variety of topics.  The entries might be varied; after all, the journal is for the writer and not the writer for the journal.  In other words, make the journal useful to you.  You are not doing this for anyone else.
What kinds of things make good journal entries? Reflection on the events of the day and their meaning in light of one’s faith commitment.  Written prayers can help a person express to the Father some of the deepest longings of the heart.  A written prayer list can bring to the awareness the situations and people who weigh heavily on the writer’s heart.  Sins can be confessed and repentance offered before God.
Write freely, reflecting on the past and God’s intervention in life. 
Quotes & Reflections. From books, the daily newspaper, and other periodicals certain poignant quotes may jump out at you.  The quote can be copied as well as some reflection of how this quote interacts with your own thinking.
Absolute honesty is very important.  We write to reveal ourselves to the Lord. 
Summarize. Every month summarize the month’s entries noting key events and themes.
Continue to journal during the dry times. The novelty of journaling soon wears off. There will be days when you will have a spiritual version of ‘writer’s block’. At other times you just won’t have any insights from scriptures or your experience with God which seem noteworthy … plan for persistence.
In your journal, write some reflections on the following questions.
  • What are the distractions present in my life that keep me from a spiritual focus?     
  • What sin have I excused away? Why?   
  • What are some reasons that being a disciple of Jesus brings me great joy?
  • What is my favourite Scripture? After reading that Scripture, list the three most powerful words in that passage – the words that if removed would ruin the passage. Re-write that passage in your  own words. 
Exercise:
Spend 15 minutes reading Psalm 1. Read it slowly. Read it out loud. Read each verse a few times. In your imagination place yourself at a table with Jesus. Imagine that Jesus is saying this Psalm to you. Only after these exercises, write down four or five thoughts that come to mind about this Psalm.

Spiritual Discipline: Introduction

"Superficiality is the curse of our age…. The desperate need today is not for a greater number of intelligent people, or gifted people, but for deep people."   
-Richard Foster, "Celebration of Discipline"

"The spiritual life is first of all a life. It is not merely something to be known and studied, it is to be lived."           
-Thomas Merton, "Thoughts in Solitude"

"Everybody thinks of changing humanity and nobody thinks of changing himself."
--Leo Tolstoy
Growing up in the church, often we see that so few "long-time church members" experience the significant life-change expected from many years as students of Jesus. Why do so many of us feel like we just have not grown very much in the likeness of our Master?
The church has placed so much emphasis on making converts and has neglected the process of making disciples. Especially in evangelical circles, works has gotten a bad rap, while workless faith has grown more appealing - "cheap grace" as Bonhoeffer stated it.
This study is an invitation for you to make an intentional effort to cultivate the kind of life in which God can bring change. It is an invitation for you to train yourself in the practices for growing in the likeness of Christ. These practices have historically been referred to as the spiritual disciplines.
Richard Foster, in his classic book, Celebration of Discipline, uses two metaphors to illustrate the purpose of disciplines: a field and a path.
A farmer is helpless to grow grain; all he can do is provide the right conditions for the growing of grain. He tills the ground, he plants the seed, he waters the plants, and then natural forces of the earth (the forces of life) take over and up comes the grain. This is the way it is with the Spiritual Disciplines--they are a way of cultivating the soul and sowing to the Spirit.
The spiritual disciplines are, "a means of receiving God's grace. …[They] allow us to place ourselves before God so he can transform us."
He goes on to say, that the spiritual disciplines are like a narrow ridge with a sheer drop-off on either side: there is the abyss of trust in works on one side and the abyss of faith without deeds on the other.
On the ridge there is a path, the disciplines of the spiritual life. …We must always remember that the path does not produce change; it only places us where the change can occur.
The task for us, then is to cultivate our daily lives into fertile ground in which God can bring growth and change. This is what the spiritual disciplines are all about.
Dallas Willard defines a discipline as, "any activity within our power that we engage in to enable us to do what we cannot do by direct effort." Specific exercises and continuous effort will, in time, enable me to do what I cannot do now by mere effort.
The application to the spiritual life is not too difficult to understand. If your life-as-usual has not been fertile ground in which God can bring change, then, as Dallas Willard writes, "life-as-usual must go." Your practice of spiritual disciplines will require an alteration of life-as-usual. You will approach your life with these two questions:
1) What am I currently not doing that, if I were doing, would open myself up more to God's work of grace in my life?
2) What am I currently doing that, if eliminated, would open myself up more to God's work of grace in my life?
In the coming lessons, we will examine fourteen specific disciplines that you may make a part of your life; depending on what you are either neglecting or engaged in that is standing between you and spiritual growth.
Before concluding, I would like to explain one danger of the spiritual disciplines and three ways to avoid that danger.
If we approach them incorrectly, the spiritual disciplines meant to bring life may become laws that lead to death. Legalism has a nasty way of creeping in and turning the means of these practices into ends in themselves.
How do we avoid that danger?
1) Constantly remember the purpose of the spiritual disciplines. Recall Foster's image of the path: "the path does not produce change; it only places us where the change can occur."
2) Listen to Jesus. Ask God to point out where you have begun to pursue the disciplines rather than Him, and He will make it known to you. The Holy Spirit, as Jesus said, will guide us in all truth.
3) Remember that change is God's work, not yours. Again, Foster's words are helpful: The spiritual disciplines are, "a means of receiving God's grace. …[They] allow us to place ourselves before God so he can transform us."
In the 1990's, Gatorade ran a long series of commercials that sang the jingle, "I want to be like Mike" (referring to the basketball superstar, Michael Jordan). The student of Jesus Christ must have his or her own jingle, "I want to be like Jesus." In essence, that is what spiritual disciplines are all about.
As an apprentice of the Master, you watch his life, and make it your practice. You listen to his teaching, and apply it in your everyday life. As Dallas Willard puts it, the spiritual disciplines are "simply a matter of following [Jesus] into his own practices, appropriately modified to suit our own condition."
Meditation:
1. The gospels are full of examples of Jesus both teaching and practicing disciplines such as solitude, silence, fasting, worship, prayer, secrecy, simplicity, celebration, fellowship, and service. Read through Matthew and make a note of the examples you find.

2. Richard Foster said, "Superficiality is the curse of our age." John Ortberg said that our greatest enemy in the spiritual life is Hurry. How are hurry (busy-ness) and superficiality related? Are you under the curse of superficiality?

Wednesday 7 August 2013

Spiritual Meditation: Welcoming God Each Time

Jan Johnson
For years I’ve been practicing and teaching the familiar styles of Scripture meditation, but it seems that only recently I’ve begun to grasp this basic point: each time I approach the Scripture, I need to deliberately and submissively give God permission to speak to me through those Holy-Spirit-breathed words. It’s actually a prayer of request: Veni, Spiritus Sancte (Come, Holy Spirit). Maybe because I’ve let my mind wander so often, I now understand I need to preface any meditative interaction with Scripture by asking with a sincere, searching heart for the Holy Spirit to speak to me today. I don’t find this to be a formality or a checklist task, but a moment filled with the dearness of an older couple who have asked each other the same question every day of their lives: How was your day? They still mean it when they ask, and each still listens for the other’s answer. Once I began making this request, I thought I’d somehow get past needing to do it, but this invitation/request/submission of self never gets old, nor do I ever stop needing to do it. Those of us who have preached and taught classes and Bible studies are always susceptible to manipulating the message to make it come out right. To be completely open to what God would say to me today leaves me vulnerable and teaches me to trust God on deeper levels.
For example, when I used to read 1 Corinthians 13:4-8, I would often resort to turning it into an exam that I would flunk. Was I patient? No. Was I kind? No. Did I envy? I could not pass the test. But while I was meditating on the passage, it occurred to me that since God is love, the descriptions of love were also descriptions of God. Because God is love, God is then patient and kind. God does not envy or boast. God is not proud or rude or self-seeking or easily irritated. God doesn’t keep a record of wrongs. God doesn’t delight in evil, but rejoices in truth. No matter what, God always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres. God never fails.
As I tasted these words over and over, I became so grateful that God doesn’t keep a record of my wrongs, that God isn’t rude to me, no matter how discourteous or braggadocian my behavior. I felt such love for this God who always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres. I am often cynical, but God always hopes. I am suspicious, but God always trusts. I learned to luxuriate in the deep goodness of God’s love.
Each time I meditated on it, different phrases stood out, or the same phrase implied different things for me. I had to keep pondering what God was saying to me today. I found it worked better not to make it a project or try too hard. Thus I was not surprised one day when, after a long hike during which I spent most of the time pondering the chapter, I made what seemed like an inconsequential decision not to “have a talk” with my then 21-year-old son about a rude remark he’d made. I knew I couldn’t do it with a heart of love, so I set the matter aside. I decided that I would instead continue to love and encourage him. (I did ask God to send someone else to talk to him about the related character fault!) For a recovering controller like me, that was a big deal.
I kept quiet, and a few days later, when he and I were joking around, the opportunity arose to mention—lightly and casually—the more desirable behavior. He smiled and said, “Oh. Okay.” How different our interchange was because I’d spent a few moments being intrigued by God’s personality of love that is not pushy or rude! Transformation into Christlikeness occurs as we leave ourselves open to the words or phrases God highlights today. As we regularly meditate on God’s genuine goodness, something changes inside us, and we naturally become careful to do the wise, good things described in Scripture (Joshua 1:8). In fact, we want to do those things. Goodness flows instead of being forced.
But the secret is to approach the Scripture continually in a noncontrolling manner, to “welcome with meekness the implanted word that has the power to save your souls” (James 1:21, NRSV). The word can more fully implant itself— get itself wrapped around our hearts and wills—as we read the Scripture with a submissive attitude. We surrender all we are: plans, opinions, possessions, and roles. A.W. Tozer advised, “[The Bible] is not only a book which was once spoken, but a book which is now speaking.… If you would follow on to know the Lord, come at once to the open Bible expecting it to speak to you. Do not come with the notion that it is a thing which you can push around at your convenience.”1
Children of Modernity
But many of us would frankly like to control what God would say to us today. Meditation seems at odds with the views of modernity (the ideas and events permeating roughly AD 1500 to 2000), which has largely been about conquest and control. In this modern period, we conquered, for example, two continents and numerous diseases. Through the development of the machine, we’ve found efficient ways to get things done. In this age of analysis, we’ve dissected and examined matter and ideas endlessly. All this progress has created an infatuation with newness, so we routinely throw off old ideas, thinking that newer ones are usually better. Such “progress” also makes us extremely objective, so that we replace “mysteries with comprehension, ignorance with information.”2
While many features of modernity have helped us, they have also invaded and shaded the biblical view of faith. Spirituality is now about conquering and efficiency. We pray in order to get results, forgetting that prayer is about getting more of God within ourselves. We search for machine-like ways to make our “time with God” productive. The mysteries of God are solved in apologetics books. The subjective parts of Scripture—the imagery of the poets and prophets—are less easily charted, so we don’t read them as much. Yet God allowed much of Scripture to be written in poetic, mysterious terms. Even Paul’s epistles include paradoxes such as this one: “to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge” (Ephesians 3:19, NAS). If this love surpasses knowledge, it cannot be known. So why bother “knowing” unknowable love? Yet grasping this unfathomable love of God is the main point of the prayer.
The products of meditation (hearing God and transformation into Christlikeness) are not precise and are, therefore, difficult to grade ourselves on. Simply letting the Scripture text speak is not quick. It involves waiting, an honored activity in Scripture, but shunned by us productive moderns.
That is why it helps us to pause before approaching the Word and pray that the Holy Spirit will speak. Parts of our mind are very creative in trying to speak for the Holy Spirit. On days when I can tell my inner self is particularly wily in this regard, I turn to this quote by Dietrich Bonhoeffer and read it aloud:
In our meditation we ponder the chosen text on the strength of the promise that it has something utterly personal to say to us today and for our Christian life, that it is not only God’s Word for the Church, but also God’s Word for us individually. We expose ourselves to the specific word until it addresses us personally. And when we do this, we are doing no more than the simplest, untutored Christian does every day; we read God’s Word as God’s Word for us. (emphasis added).”3
Quieting Selves
Perhaps we’re sloppy about inviting God to speak because we often have such trouble quieting ourselves. Most people in our culture are plugged into headphones, tuned into the radio, transfixed with a book, or mesmerized by a television show. Not so with meditation. Meditation thrives on silence. That takes some adjustment.
Being creatures of such a culture, we usually find one of two things happening to us when we sit quietly. One is that we fall asleep. I always tell group participants that if this happens to them, God bless them in that time of rest. They must need it. Hurried, stressed-out folks in our culture need sleep.
The other common thing that happens is that our minds race, making lists of things we have to do and people we have to contact. I keep a yellow writing pad next to the place where I meditate each day and when details nag at me— errands to run, people to call—I jot them down on the pad and consciously release them to God. Then I set the pad behind me in a deliberate way, almost out of reach, as a way for my body to say it’s ready to set aside my agenda and hear God. It’s safely written down, so I can focus again. (Often such scribbling creates a helpful “to do” list for the day.)
It works better not to be annoyed when our minds wander this way, but to expect this as part of learning the skill of letting go. Madame Guyon advises, “Do not become distressed because your mind has wandered away. Always guard yourself from being anxious because of your faults.”4 Dallas Willard puts it this way: “Ninetenths of meditation is ignoring things, letting stuff go. It’s the art of purposefully allowing stuff to drop off.”5 Such letting go helps us welcome God to speak into our lives. It trains us in the transformative task of relinquishing to God things we cannot control. As we learn inner quiet, we’re free in all of life to truly focus on the persons in front of us speaking to us, instead of hurrying and being distracted by urgent tasks. We love others better because we focus on them instead of worrying about saying the right thing or winning someone to our side. In silence, we learn to set our minds and hearts on God, to become fully preoccupied with God.
If a detail keeps coming back to my mind, I pick up the yellow pad and start praying over the matter. Maybe there’s something I need to know. Bonhoeffer sympathizes:
Much as this [mind-wandering] may distress and shame us again and again, we must not lose heart and become anxious, or even conclude that meditation is really not something for us. When this happens it is often a help not to snatch back our thoughts convulsively, but quite calmly to incorporate into our prayer the people and events to which our thoughts keep straying and thus in all patience return to the starting point of the meditation (emphasis added).6
For example, one morning I was plagued by the need to tell a friend where I really stood on an issue. I felt as if I were deceiving him by not speaking up. (The night before, in a meeting when it had been my turn to speak, time was suddenly up—saved by the bell!) After my time of meditation, I kept explaining to God why I must do this.
But there on my bed sat my Bible open to Psalm 4, the passage on which I’d just meditated: “In your anger do not sin; when you are on your beds, search your hearts and be silent” (v. 4). Be silent? I picked up my Bible and reread it (Did I think “be silent” might disappear?) I explained again to God that I was lacking integrity by not speaking up. Be silent? Why?
So I sat back down and quieted myself. I released all agendas and pondered what it would look like to “be silent.” Finally, as I finished getting ready for the day, I found myself wondering if God were doing something in my friend’s heart that was bigger than I could imagine, and my telling him where I stood would be a distraction. I began to sense that my speaking up would interfere with God’s work in this person’s life.
I searched my heart and saw that my desire to live out my trademark transparency and authenticity overshadowed anything God might be doing in my friend’s life. Back to prayer. In distress I asked God what I was to do if not speak up. One of my “rules” of life came to me immediately: I asked myself, What would it look like to love the person in front of me? “Okay,” I told God, “I will love this friend.” I would wait to speak up until I believed God was saying it was an appropriate time. The passage of time revealed that this was exactly the right course to take.
If you’re plagued by distracting thoughts, you might want to journal about them so you can examine what’s behind them. Write honestly: Here’s what I’m afraid of today. Here’s what I feel incapable of tackling today. Here’s an upcoming event that I would rather skip—here’s why. The Psalmist did this: “Every morning you’ll hear me at it again. Every morning I lay out the pieces of my life on your altar and watch for fire to descend” (Psalm 5:3, The Message). In all these cases, you are inviting God to speak to you today even if it pulls you away from your normally prescribed method of meditation.
On the other hand, bringing stability into your practices keeps you from being distracted. It helps, for example, to have a regular time and place to look at Scripture, and to have a plan for reading so you aren’t distracted by hunting to discover the text for the day. You may use a recommended list (such as a lectionary, which contains the Scripture texts used each week in church services of certain denominations around the world) or stay with a theme (Jesus’ healings) or simply work through a book of the Bible. Ten verses or less per day is sufficient. Your goal is not to get through the book, but to interact with God. In fact, you may find yourself so drawn to a passage that you stay in it for several days. Bonhoeffer advised his seminary students at Finkenwalde that “in our personal meditation we [should] confine ourselves to a brief selected text, which possibly may not be changed for a whole week.”7
However, welcoming God’s leading with meekness may mean being open to shifting plans now and then. For 2 years, I worked through Old Testament prophets with great joy. But the summer my mother died, I switched to meditating through the Gospel of Mark. I needed familiar passages that kept me close to Jesus. Later I went back to the prophets. If you’ve just read or heard riveting teaching about a passage, you may wish to switch to it for a day or two. That happened to me recently with Song of Songs and later with Psalm 119. I spent a few weeks in each and then went back to my plan.
In the beginning, it helps to choose texts that answer the conscious needs of your soul, especially your places of brokenness. For example, those sensing they don’t truly believe God loves them may want to meditate on passages that mention God delighting in us: “The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing” (Zephaniah 3:17, NIV).
“He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me” (Psalm 18:19, NIV).
If you have been a peoplepleaser for years, doing what others want you to do while giving little attention to God’s call on your life, you might meditate on Matthew 10:26–31. In this passage, the phrase “do not be afraid” occurs three times. Each occurrence deals with being afraid of what others think. Focus also on the second part of verse 28, in which Jesus spoke of being afraid of God. What does it mean to have a holy, healthy fear of God? Isn’t it silly not to tremble before the creator of the universe? If we have such a healthy fear of God, how does that affect our thoughts about pleasing others? Won’t others’ opinions cease to matter as much when God becomes the object of our longing? How would it feel to have this holy, healthy fear of God?
Putting Words in God’s Mouth
One of the roadblocks to welcoming with meekness God’s implanted word is making it up ourselves. We may even wonder, Am I putting words in God’s mouth? For example, your friend keeps telling you to be more patient so you “hear” that message in every Bible narrative. Yes, it’s good to be patient, but perhaps God has something else to say to you today. If you are utterly surprised by it, that’s a good sign it’s from God. It will be an adventure.
An important step in this process is to be aware of the routine tapes running in your head that you might mistake for God’s voice. My spiritual director has helped me recognize that I have rooms to which I regularly return when I really need to stay more open to what I need to know. These rooms reverberate with thoughts such as, That’s me being negative again or There goes my pride again. If you see yourself as needing to talk less, that’s probably important, but is there anything else you need to know today? Is God truly free to speak to you, or are you handing God a script? It’s an exciting adventure into real interaction with God, and “we will never be ‘in charge’ in prayer if it is real.”8
Some of us have such routine tapes going that it’s as if they have personalities of their own (actually our own). At the risk of repeating what I’ve previously written for Conversations, I mention again how these thought patterns can become the “committee members” that live in our heads. These yet unregenerate parts of our soul make us groan with the Psalmist, “How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me?” (Psalm 13:2, NIV). My committee members argue about what God is saying, turning my mind into a courtroom battleground. The looking- good kid, who desperately wants to be perfect and admired by all, drives me to think every passage is saying that I should be better and work harder. My kick-back kid argues back that every passage is leading me to chuck everything and take time off. My rescuer (so superior because she’s thinking about others) argues that this passage is saying I need to overextend myself to meet the needs of everyone in sight—so get going, girl! Now and then, my childhood voice of despair, the victim (or grouch) sneaks up with the broken record of “Nothing is ever going to work for you.”
It’s important to name committee members before God so we can recognize when they are imitating God’s voice in our heads. (Other committee members may include such characters as a proud and tyrannical parent, an overbearing boss, a clown, a daredevil, a promiscuous flirt, or a maverick intellectual.) Then we can set them aside and ask, What else might God be saying to me today? (Also, look for passages that speak to these broken parts of your soul. Let Scripture say to your looking-good kid, “God sees your failures and works through them”; to your kick-back kid, “God gives courage and confidence”; to your rescuer, “God shows up in every catastrophe; sometimes God asks you to come along; other times, you stay put”; to the victim, “God loves you, no matter what; God never gives up on you.”) Part of how you “guard yourself from being anxious because of your faults” is to refuse to give these committee members too much airtime. As Dallas Willard often reminds us, our first freedom is where we put our minds. Today, I choose God and God’s kingdom.

Why Bother With Discipleship

Dallas Willard
If we are Christians simply by believing that Jesus died for  our sins, then that is all it takes to have sins forgiven and go to heaven when we die.  Why, then, do some people keep insisting that something more than this is desirable?  Lordship, discipleship, spiritual formation, and the like?
What more could one want than to be sure of their eternal destiny and enjoy life among others who profess the same faith as they do.  Of course everyone wants to be a good person.  But that does not require that you actually do what Jesus himself said and did.  Haven’t you heard? “Christians aren’t perfect.  Just forgiven.”
Now those who honestly find themselves concerned about such matters might find it helpful to consider four simple points:
First, there is absolutely nothing in what Jesus himself or his early followers taught that suggests you can decide just to enjoy forgiveness at Jesus’ expense and have nothing more to do with him.
Some years ago A. W. Tozer expressed his “feeling that a notable heresy has come into being throughout evangelical Christian circles–the widely-accepted concept that we humans can choose to accept Christ only because we need him as Savior and that we have the right to postpone our obedience to him as Lord as long as we want to!”  (I Call It Heresy, Harrisburg, PA.: Christian Publications, 1974, p. 5f)  He then goes on to state “that salvation apart from obedience is unknown in the sacred scriptures.”
This `heresy’ has created the impression that it is quite reasonable to be a “vampire Christian.”  One in effect says to Jesus: “I’d like a little of your blood, please.  But I don’t care to be your student or have your character.  In fact, won’t you just excuse me while I get on with my life, and I’ll see you in heaven.”  But can we really imagine that this is an approach that Jesus finds acceptable?
And when you stop to think of it, how could one actually trust him for forgiveness of sins while not trusting him for much more than that.  You can’t trust him without believing that he was right about everything, and that he alone has the key to every aspect of our lives here on earth.  But if you believe that, you will naturally want to stay just as close to him as you can, in every aspect of your life.
Secondly, if we do not become his apprentices in kingdom living we remain locked in defeat so far as our moral intentions are concerned.  This is where most professing Christians find themselves today.  Statistical studies prove it.  People, generally, choose to sin.  And they are filled with explanations as to why, everything considered, it understandable to do so.  But, even so, no one chooses to be a sinner.  It is amusing that people will admit to lying, for example, but stoutly deny that they are liars.
We want to be good, but we are prepared, ready, to do evil–should circumstances require it.  And of course they do `require’ it, with deadening regularity.  As Jesus himself indicated, those who practice sin actually are slaves of it. (John 8:34)  Ordinary life confirms it.  How consistently do you find people able to do good and avoid evil as they intend.
By contrast, practicing Jesus’ word as his apprentices enables us to understand our lives and to see how we can interact with God’s redemptive resources, ever at hand.  This in turn gives us an increasing freedom from failed intentions, as we learn from him how, simply, do what we know to be right.  By a practiced abiding in his words we come to know the truth and the truth does, sure enough, make us free. (John 8:36)
Thirdly, only avid discipleship to Christ through the spirit brings the inward transformation of thought, feeling and character that “cleans the inside of the cup” (Matt. 23:25) and “makes the tree good” (Matt. 12:33).  As we study with Jesus we increasingly become on the inside–with “the Father who is in secret” (Matt 6:6)–exactly what we are on the outside, where actions and moods and attitudes visibly play over our body alive in its social context.  An amazing simplicity will take over our lives–a simplicity that is really just transparency.
This requires a long and careful learning from Jesus to remove the duplicity that has become second nature to us–as is perhaps inevitable in a world where, to `manage’ our relations to those about us, we must hide what we really think, feel and would like to do if only we could avoid observation.  Thus, a part of Jesus’ teaching was to “avoid the leaven, or permeating spirit, of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy.” (Luke 12:1)
The Pharisees were in many respects the very best people of Jesus’ day.  But they located goodness in behavior and tried to secure themselves by careful management at the behavioral level.  However, that simply cannot be done.  Behavior is driven by the hidden or secret dimension of human personality, from the depths of the soul and body, and what is present there will escape.  Hence they always failed at some point to do what is right, and had to redefine, redescribe or explain it away–or simply hide it.
By contrast the fruit of the spirit, as described by Jesus and Paul, does not consist in actions, but in attitudes or settled personality traits that make up the substance of the “hidden” self, the “inner man.”  “Love” captures this fruit in one word, but in such a concentrated form that it needs to be spelled out.  Thus, “the fruit (singular) of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.” (Gal 5:22)  Other such passages easily come to mind, such as II Peter 1:4-11, I Cor. 13, and Romans 5:1-5.
“Spiritual formation” in the Christian tradition is a process of increasingly being possessed and permeated by such character traits as we walk in the easy yoke of discipleship with Jesus our teacher.  From the inward character the deeds of love then naturally–but supernaturally–and transparently flow.  Of course there will always be room for improvement, so we need not worry that we will become perfect–at least for a few weeks or months.  Our aim is to be pervasively possessed by Jesus through constant companionship with him.  Like our brother Paul: “This one thing I do! …I press toward the mark! …That I may know him!” (Phil. 3)
Finally, for the one who makes sure to walk as close to Jesus as possible there comes the reliable exercise of a power that is beyond them in dealing with the problems and evils that afflict earthly existence.  Jesus is actually looking for people he can trust with his power.  He knows that otherwise we remain largely helpless in the face of the organized and disorganized evils around us and unable to promote his will for good in this world with adequate power.
He is the one who said, “I have been given say over all things in heaven and earth.  So you go….” (Matt. 28:18)  Of him it was said that “God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Ghost and with power: who went about doing good, and healing all that were oppressed of the devil; for God was with him.” (Acts 10:38)  We are called to do his work by his power.
However we may understand the details there can be no doubt, on the biblical picture of human life, that we were meant to be inhabited by God and live by a power beyond ourselves.  Human problems cannot be solved by human means.  Human life can never flourish unless it pulses with “the exceeding greatness of his power to us-ward who believe.” (Eph. 1:19)  But only constant students of Jesus will be given adequate power to fulfill their calling to be God’s person for their time and their place in this world.
But, someone will say, can I not be saved–get into heaven when I die–without any of this?  Perhaps you can.  God’s goodness is so great, I am sure, that He will let you in if He can find any basis at all to do so.  But you might wish to think about what your life amounts to before  you die, about what kind of person you are becoming, and whether you really would be comfortable for eternity in the presence of one whose company you have not found especially desirable for the few hours and days of earthly existence.  And he is, after all, One who says to you now, “Follow me!”
Published in The Journey, 1995.
For a Biola University Conference on Spiritual Transformation.

The Human Spirit in Spiritual Formation

Richard Averbeck
Spiritual formation is increasingly becoming a term used in the academy and in the church here and around the world for a kind of ministry that focuses on going deeper and farther with Christ in the life of the individual Christian and the community of faith. Nevertheless, there is still today a great deal of confusion about what “spiritual formation” really is or should be in the evangelical context, and how it relates, for example, to “discipleship” and “sanctification.” Admittedly, like some of the other terms we regularly use in Christian theology (e.g., Trinity), “spiritual formation” is not actually a scriptural term. Given that, from a biblical point of view it seems most natural to approach the subject of “spiritual formation” through passages that refer to the Holy Spirit in the context of forming, conforming, or transforming one’s life toward Christ-likeness (the Greek morphe and its compounds; e.g., Galatians 4:19). One of the best passages to begin with is Romans 8:26-29:
26 . . . the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. 27 And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God’s (i.e., the Father’s) will. 28 And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who  have been called according to his purpose. 29 For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed (συμμόρφους) to the likeness of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. (NIV)
Thus, one can properly start with the proposition that spiritual formation, rightly understood, is first of all, above all, and throughout, the life shaping (i.e., “forming”) work of the divine Holy Spirit, carried out according to the will of God the Father, for the purpose of conforming us to the image of Jesus Christ his Son (cf. also, e.g., Romans 12:1-2 and 2 Corinthians 3:17-18). Spiritual formation consists of the Trinitarian work of God in transforming the lives of genuine believers in Christ through the presence and power of the Holy Spirit. A spiritual formation ministry is one that is devoted to stimulating and participating in this work of the Holy Spirit in the lives of Christians through the ways and means revealed in scripture.
There are three primary dimensions of the forming work of the Holy Spirit according to scripture. These are represented by the three concentric circles in the illustration below (Figure 1). Each of them has important implications for any biblically based “spiritual formation” ministry, practice, or program. These three dimensions of the work of the Holy Spirit are intimately bound together, not mutually exclusive or isolated from each other, and have direct impact on the effective working of each other in the lives of believers (see the four lines traversing the concentric circles, with arrows pointing in both directions). Nevertheless, the images, concepts, and institutions on which they are based are distinctive. All three have their roots set deep in the soil of the Old Testament. They also have explicit, meaningful, and traceable trajectories into the New Testament for the church and the Christian life.

Figure 1
First, at the inner core of spiritual formation is deep personal intimacy with God and the personal Christ-like integrity and character worked in us from there by the Holy Spirit who is in us; that is, in our human spirit. This is the main topic of the present essay. The second dimension, represented by the second concentric circle, illustrates the work of the Holy Spirit among us as a redemptive community of faith, building us together into a worship-filled temple of the Holy Spirit in which the love of God and one another abounds. Since the Holy Spirit is actually “present” in us and among us as he works in the human spirit of each believer, the true church is the corporate temple of God the Holy Spirit today. The Old Testament theology of God’s tabernacle and temple presence comes through into the New Testament in the description of the church as a temple “being built together to become a dwelling in which God lives by his Spirit,” as Paul writes in Ephesians 2:22.
The third dimension of spiritual formation, represented by the third concentric circle labeled “Prophetic Spirit and Holy Spirit,” is meant to illustrate the work of the Holy Spirit through us in the world, making us effective in the Gospel mission, living as salt and light in the world. The foundation for this dimension is in the close relationship that the pouring out of the Spirit has with the prophetic institution in the Old Testament. The quote from Joel 2 in Acts 2 as the main text of the first sermon of the church age brings the prophetic work of the Spirit directly into the church as its basic purpose. Witnessing and preaching the Gospel are by their very nature prophetic acts, and we are all called to this. The church has been an essentially prophetic institution since its inception. In anticipation of the day of Pentecost, Jesus put it this way in Acts 1:8: “. . . you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”
The overall point here is that spiritual formation is about what the Holy Spirit works in each of us, among all of us, and through us in the world around us. At the end of the day, this is what we are all called to in our individual lives and our ministries, and this is precisely what spiritual formation is all about.
Discipleship, Sanctification, and Spiritual Formation
There is no hard line of distinction between “discipleship,” “sanctification,” and “spiritual formation.” However, the focus of the terms and their implications shade into different areas. A disciple is primarily an adherent to a particular teacher; a learner, or pupil, or perhaps better, an apprentice. He or she is a committed follower of a Rabbi, so to speak (see, e.g., John 1:38, 49). Our term “disciplined” is a derivative of the term “disciple,” and the focus is just that. A disciple is a disciplined follower. Jesus not only taught us how to live, but he actually lived in such a way that we can see what it looks like to live out what he taught. Jesus commissioned us to “make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you.” (Matthew 28:19-20; cf. Acts 14:21).
Our term “sanctification” as a theological concept arises from the Latin sanctus and derives from the Old and New Testament words for “holy” or “sacred” (i.e., the root words qadosh in Hebrew and hagios in Greek). From the same set of terms we get “sanctuary,” referring to a “holy place,” and “saints,” referring to those who have become “sacred/holy persons” by the purifying and sanctifying blood of Jesus Christ and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. This is our identity before God. We are his “sanctified holy ones,” and the ongoing process of our sanctification is a continuation of the saving work of God in our lives. We have been saved, we are being saved, and we will be saved.
Returning now to the term “spiritual formation,” and bringing these concepts together, the Holy Spirit is the one who God the Father, at the request of Jesus the Son, has given us in this day and age to guide and enable us to function as sanctified disciples of Jesus (John 14:16-17). With regard to spiritual formation in particular, the important point is that, since the beginning of the church age, becoming and living as a disciple has always been closely linked to receiving and being transformed by the Holy Spirit (see, e.g., Acts 1:5, 8; 2:1-18, 38). This is one of the main emphases spiritual formation brings to the Christian life when it is defined and understood from a biblical point of view.
Spiritual formation is, first, dynamic in its emphasis on the divine power and means of formation, and, second, deep in its focus on the inner workings of the human person. As distinct terms, “discipleship” focuses on learning and following; “spiritual formation” focuses on the dynamic empowerment of the Holy Spirit for that learning and following. “Sanctification” focuses on separation and holiness; “spiritual formation” focuses on the in depth process continually being worked in us by the Holy Spirit to sanctify us even further and deeper, in an ongoing way, in our experience as those indwelt and transformed by the Spirit. It is important to emphasize again here that these are complementary terms. They do not stand in contradiction or competition with one another. For example, when Jesus taught his disciples about sanctification (i.e., holiness and purity) he was concerned that they see it as the kind that penetrates into the heart of the person. He said:
18 . . . the things that come out of the mouth come from the heart, and these make a man ‘unclean.’ 19 For out of the heart come evil thoughts, murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false testimony, slander. 20 These are what make a man ‘unclean’; . . . (Matthew 15:18-20, NIV).
Thus, discipleship and sanctification deal with the depths of the person too, and they involve dynamic engagement with the Lord in the process.
My point here is that the Spirit of God reaches into the spirit (or heart) of the person to do the core of this work in us (see, e.g., Romans 8:16, 23-27). God has not called us to something without enabling us to do it. He is not sitting by to see how we do on our own. Jesus did not leave us with commands and no power to fulfill them. There is a divine person, the Holy Spirit, continually at work in us, who acts directly on the deepest parts of us – our human spirit. This comes through clearly in certain passages of scripture. The passage that first drew my attention to this is 1 Corinthians 2:10b-13:
The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God. 11 For who among men knows the thoughts of a man except the man’s spirit within him? In the same way no one knows the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God. 12 We have not received the spirit of the world but the Spirit who is from God, that we may understand what God has freely given us. 13 This is what we speak, not in words taught us by human wisdom but in words taught by the Spirit, expressing spiritual truths in spiritual words. (NIV)
Thus, according to v. 16, “we have the mind of Christ.” The Holy Spirit knows the depths of God, and the human spirit knows the depths of a person. Spiritual formation is empowered by the indwelling Holy Spirit as he takes “what God has freely given to us” in Christ Jesus and brings it to full effect in and through the human spirit of us as believers. According to Romans 8:15-16, we have not received a “spirit of slavery” but a “spirit of adoption, in which we cry out, Abba! Father!” and “it is that very (divine) Spirit (who is in us) testifying to our (human) spirit that we are children of God.” This is what the word “spiritual” in the term “spiritual formation” indicates. At its core, the term “spiritual formation” and the practice of it, properly understood from a biblical point of view, focuses our attention on what the Holy Spirit deals with in us, that is, in our human spirit, and on the dynamics of how he does that. This requires that we seriously consider the nature and condition of the human spirit as it relates to spiritual formation.
The Human Spirit
As every first year Hebrew or Greek student knows, the major terms for both the human “spirit” and the Holy “Spirit” are also the common words for “wind” or “breath” in both the Hebrew Old Testament (ruakh) and the Greek New Testament (pneuma; cf. the English word “pneumonia”). The existence of a human spirit in every person, and the affective nature of that human spirit, is clearly testified to in both the Old and New Testaments. Consider, for example, Jacob’s revived “spirit” in Genesis 45:27, Ahab’s sullen “spirit” in 1 Kings 21:5, Paul’s gentle “spirit” in 1 Corinthians 4:21, and the “spirit” of power, love, and self-control rather than timidity in 2 Timothy 1:7. In fact, one can argue from the Bible that it is precisely the presence of the immaterial “spirit” of a person that makes his or her material body alive as opposed to dead. James, for example, alludes to this when he writes that “As the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without deeds is dead” (James 2:26). Similarly, Jesus echoes Psalm 31:5 on the cross when he cries out at the point of his death, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit” (Luke 23:46).
If we are going to engage in the process of spiritual formation, we will need to face directly the substance and dynamics of what is happening in the spirits of people in general, and any individual person in particular. Spiritual formation is a “messy” process because peoples’ lives are messy. The Bible itself says a great deal about this and we cannot avoid dealing with it if we are going to do true spiritual formation. Although the intellect is an important part of the human spirit, it is not the only part. As the passages cited earlier suggest, a person’s “spirit” also includes their will, emotions, attitudes, memories, perspectives on life, and so forth. Since the transformation of all such things is the object of the Holy Spirit’s work, it is essential to engage a person on all these levels in the process of spiritual formation. This includes the corruption that plagues our spirit due to our fallen sinful condition, as described in Genesis 3.
Romans 8, in fact, makes a direct connection to the corruption and pain of our sinful condition immediately following the adoption passage in verses 15-16, where we cry out “Abba! Father!” cited earlier, and immediately preceding verses 26-29, which were cited at the beginning of this paper regarding the Spirit, Father, and Son together in spiritual formation. Between these two sections, Paul refers to the inheritance we have to look forward to as joint heirs with Jesus Christ of the richness of God’s kingdom. More to the point, this is so even though, for the time being, as those who have the first fruits of Spirit of God in our life we suffer and groan in the midst of the anxious longings, futility, and groans of all creation as it suffers the pains of childbirth (Romans 8:17-23). Yes, we have hope, but in the meantime we need the help of the Spirit “in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express” (Romans 8:24-26).
Thus, as Paul puts it in Romans 8:18-26, along with all creation, we suffer and groan until the time of redemption. Genesis 3:1-13 tells us about the fall of man and woman into sin, and Genesis 3:14-25 tells us about the curses that were God’s response to the fall. This narrative, like others in the Bible, is “archetypal.” That is, it explains to us not only what happened in the garden but also what continues to happen in our lives. We keep replaying the fall and suffering the consequences. In other words, even though we were created with dignity in the image of God, we do not necessarily live in dignified ways, and even when we do, the world does not necessarily treat us with dignity. We have become corrupt and we live in a world that is corrupt.
The Fallen Dynamics of Our Human Spirit
Here it will be helpful to trace the dynamics of the fall step by step through Genesis 3:1-13 as a narrative theology of sin that finds its roots in the fallen human spirit (see Figure 2). Other passages will be considered along the way, but Genesis 3 is the key text. First came deception. One element of fallenness in our human spirit is that we are “deceived.” As the story goes, the serpent was “more crafty than any of the wild animals the LORD God had made” (3:1), and as the woman put it to God, “the serpent deceived me, and I ate” (3:13). These two references encase the fall narrative in craftiness and deception. Because he was crafty, the serpent knew that the nature of the man’s relational commitment to the woman as recounted previously in Genesis 2:22-25 made them vulnerable to attack through that relationship. The link between the end of chapter 2 and the beginning of chapter 3 is clear from the general line of argument, but the play on words between “naked” (‘ārûmmîm) in the statement that “the man and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame” in the last verse of chapter 2 (v. 25), and the word “crafty” (‘ārûm) in the first verse of chapter 3, is especially significant. They are homonyms and constitute a play on words.
One of the questions that naturally arises in considering the events of Genesis 2-3 is the problem of how Adam and Eve could sin even though they had no sinful nature and had never sinned previously. This question has given rise to various longstanding debates in systematic theology about the relationship between the fall into sin and the decrees of God, especially the “lapsarian controversy.” “Was the first sin of man, constituting the fall, predestinated,” (i.e., supralapsarian), “or was this merely the object of divine foreknowledge” (i.e., infralapsarian).  Actually, the only answer the Bible gives to the problem of how they sinned even though they were not sinful that I can find is that they were deceived into it. The impetus came from the serpent, neither God nor the man or woman, at least not directly.

Figure 2
The woman was deceived, not the man (cf. 1 Timothy 2:12-14). This does not mean that women are more easily deceived than men, or anything of the sort. Rather, it follows the logic of the narrative. The natural inclination of the man was to stay “united” (NIV) with his woman, cleave to her (Genesis 2:24b; better translations are NASB “shall cleave to” or NRSV “clings to,” since the verb is active, not passive or middle). Recall how the man responded when God first presented the woman to him (2:22-23). She was made for him (2:18), and he was truly taken with her (2:23). Since this was so, the clever serpent only needed to deceive the woman into going in the wrong direction. The man would naturally follow as he clung to her. The man is not excused, and the woman no more accused than him. They are both held fully accountable (3:14-25), but the serpent was crafty indeed. And this is often how deception works. It uses good things to entice people to do bad things for all the wrong reasons.
Second, the deception was meant to raise doubt. This too is one of the dynamic features of our fallen human spirit. We doubt two things in particular: (1) the goodness of God (3:1b, 5) and (2) the repercussions of rebellion against God (3:4). This is what the serpent was working to produce in the heart and mind of the women. Is it really “good” that God has forbidden them to eat the fruit of the trees: “Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden’?” (3:1b). And if they could eat from any of the trees but one, “the tree of the knowledge of good and evil” (2:9b) “in the middle of the garden” (3:3), then why not that one? The answer, according to the serpent, is that God is withholding something good from them, even the best: “For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil” (3:5).
Think about it. How much of our sin really reflects the underlying belief that what God has already given is not good enough? We are deceived in our human spirit, and because we are deceived we doubt the goodness of God. Similarly, the serpent specifically denied the truth of what God said would happen if they did eat of the forbidden fruit: “You will not surely die” (3:4; cf. God’s warning in 2:16-17 and the reflection on this in 3:11). Under the influence of this kind of deception we not only doubt that God is good, but we doubt the repercussions of rebellion against him. We feel, think, or perhaps even say things like this: “Sin and rebellion against God really isn’t all that serious, is it? God’s warnings really aren’t that important, are they?! I can get away with it and not do any harm. In fact, if I do this, won’t I be even a better person? More knowledgeable, wise, effective?!” These are the rationalizations of the heart and mind of the one who is deceived and doubting. These things are part of the poison in our human spirit, and spiritual formation needs to get at them.
Of course, the whole process involves deception, but that, in turn, also produces doubt, which adds to the thrust that eventually drives them through to disobedience and all that comes with it. One thing leads to the other, and each of them adds another driving dynamic to the account here and to the realities of the fallen human spirit that we all struggle with. We need to understand the weight of the accumulated effect of all this in our own lives and in the lives of others to be able to meet people where they and take them where they need to go are in spiritual formation. Different people are deceived about different things, but we are all deceived in the very core of who we are as fallen people. Different people have different doubts about God, but we all have them. So we find it hard to trust.
Third, after doubt we can add to the mix illegitimate desires for things forbidden: “the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom” (3:6a). At this point the forbidden thing began to look good, and she wanted it right then and there. It would not have even occurred to her to want it if she were not already deceived and doubting, because it would not have occurred to her to doubt God about matters of good versus evil. She would not have wondered about whether or not it would be good to eat of the forbidden fruit. She would not have questioned the truth of God’s warning against it. One thing leads to the other, and so it is with us too. Like the woman in the garden, if we were not already deceived and doubting, we would not want the things that we illegitimately desire.
It is not that desire itself is bad, or that all of our desires are illegitimate. Even in the garden before the fall in Genesis 2, for example, Adam desired Eve, they both desired food, etc. These were good and legitimate desires, and they still are. For example, there is nothing wrong with wanting to be intimate with one’s mate in the marriage relationship, not just physically but in every other way too (2:25). In fact, this is the way God designed the relationship between the man and his woman. Nothing should stand between them on any level, and they both need to be there for the other (cf., e.g., 1 Corinthians 7:1-5; Ephesians 5:21-33). Yes, we have desires that are legitimate and good, but with the fall even our will became corrupt, and that is part of our human spirit and its corruption. We struggle with desires for things that are not legitimate.
Fourth, the illegitimate desire led to disobedience toward God in sin and rebellion against His commandment not to eat from that particular fruit: “she took some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it” (3:6b). There have been many attempts to define sin, and there are, in fact, several different words for sin in the Old and New Testaments. From the perspective of this passage, perhaps one of the best ways to define sin is that it is any violation of God’s design. Adam and Eve were not designed to have “the knowledge of good and evil,” and neither are we. God warned them not to eat of “the tree of the knowledge of good and evil,” but they did it anyway through a process of deception leading to doubt leading in turn to illegitimate desire and finally disobedience. The previous spiritual dynamics of the fall discussed above combined to lead finally to the fall itself, and the same dynamics are worked out in our life as well, as we keep replaying the fall in our own lives.
The fact of the matter is that, now that we have this knowledge of good and bad we have absolutely know idea what to do with it, and we frequently show how poor we are at handling it in thought, word, and deed. One can see similar sets of dynamics elsewhere in the Bible as well. For example, James 1 begins with an exhortation to “consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds” (v. 2), since such trials can serve to mature us in the Lord if we ask for God’s wisdom in it (vv. 3-5). However, one must ask without “doubting,” since a doubting person is unstable. Later in the chapter James writes specifically about being “tempted” (v. 13), explaining that it does not come from God but from the enticement of our own evil (illegitimate) desires, which leads to “sin” (“disobedience”), which eventually “gives birth to death” (vv. 14-15; cf. Genesis 2:17; 3:3-4, 19, 22).
James goes on to say, “don’t be deceived, my dear brothers” (v. 16). Don’t be deceived about what? Don’t be deceived about the fact that “every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows” (v. 17). God really is good, and He gives His children only good things, at least only the kinds of things that He intends to use “for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose,” those whom God Himself has “. . . predestined to be conformed to the likeness of his Son . . .” (Romans 8:28-29). God’s original design was that we leave the decisions about what is good versus what is evil in His hands. We were not designed to handle it well, because He is the only one who can. We are not God, even though we are created in His image and likeness.
One can readily see the correspondences between James 1 and Genesis 3. Compare also the sequence in Romans 7:9-11 and the devil’s three temptations of Jesus in Matthew 4:1-11 (and parallels). The point is that the pattern of sinful dynamics we see in Genesis 3 is also reflected elsewhere in scripture. This is what we deal with as fallen people, and spiritual formation that is truly spiritual is driven at the core by the Holy Spirit working to transform us in regard to these matters.
Fifth, their sinful disobedience led to shame – a central key dynamic in our fallen human spirit: “then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves” (Genesis 3:7). Contrast Genesis 2:25, “The man and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame.” This is, of course, an image of childlike innocence. Who else just naturally runs around in the world naked and not ashamed except little children. The effects of sin were first felt in the personal and sexual relationship between the man and the woman. Absolute openness and uninhibited intimacy were lost. Instead, there was now “shame” and “covering.” And these go together. If a person feels shame the most natural thing to do is to cover up and hope no one sees us in our shame. So the last thing said in chapter 2 about the good and natural dispositions of the man and woman in the garden paradise is the very first thing undone immediately when they defied God’s command.
Shame is a key factor in the lives of people that we need to pay close attention to in spiritual formation. The last thing we want to do is shame a person. It shuts them down and drives them away. Perhaps I can illustrate it by thinking of an instance in which a person might get embarrassed. Consider what commonly happens if one trips and stumbles as he or she is walking up a set of stairs. There is a sense of clumsiness and embarrassment. We might look around and hope no one saw that, and if they did we might blush, smile sheepishly, or look away hoping they don’t say anything about it. Or we might deflect it in some other way. Embarrassment is a relatively slight form of shame. Full-blown shame is many times more powerful. It drives the person inward and away from involvement with other people and even God. Think of it as this great big sore full of yellowish infectious pus down deep inside each one of us, at the very core of our being. When it erupts it spews its pus all over our inner person, our spirit, and out into our relationships with God and people. Right now, as I write this, I am not feeling shame, but if someone pushes the right buttons I will feel it immediately, full force. Yes, it is part of every one of us, a very ugly, sickening, and frightening part.
It is no coincidence that shame first reared its ugly head in scripture in relation to sexuality, and that the Bible says so much about sex and male/female relationships – both perversions of it (see, e.g., Leviticus 18:6-30, Romans 1:24-27,1 Corinthians 5, and 1 Thessalonians 4:1-8, etc.) and the beauty and proper expressions of it (see, e.g., Proverbs 5:15-19, The Song of Solomon, 1 Corinthians 7:1-6, and Hebrews 13:4, etc.). The more a person or group of persons is pressed in areas of shame, the more severe is their felt need to cover up no matter what. One of the most natural places to be pressed is in our sexuality, and in male and female relationships before and during marriage, and sometimes in lieu of finding a mate. The problem begins in childhood and extends throughout one’s life.
I am not suggesting here that every problem people face goes back to sexuality, but it is an important factor. After all, God’s first command to the man and woman whom he created together in the image and likeness of God was “be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it” (Genesis 1:28). Furthermore, when God took up the matter that “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him” (Genesis 2:18), he did not make another man. He made a woman. And he made her in such a way that man was very impressed with her (2:23), and as a result it is the most natural and beautiful thing in the world for a man to separate from his parents and become one with his wife (2:24).
Sixth, the shame led to fear, certainly a significant feature of the fallen human spirit: “He (the man) answered (the Lord), ‘I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid’” (3:10). The most natural response to shame is fear – fear that someone will see us in our shame. So in the garden the man and woman hid from God after the fall, rather than running to Him. Not only did they seek to cover themselves from one another, but they even sought to hide from God under cover of the trees of the garden. In other words, the immediate effects of the fall into sin were also felt in the personal relationship, which the man and the woman had with the Lord God in the garden (3:8-10). Simple confidence and fellowship were lost. Instead, “fear” and “hiding” characterize the relationship. Note the opposites here. They go from confidence to fear, and from fellowship to hiding. If God walked in the garden before the fall the most natural thing would have been for them to run to Him, but after the fall the most natural things was to run away from Him. Walls have gone up not only between the man and the woman, but also between both of them and God.
Have you ever noticed that when someone feels shamed they have difficulty making eye contact? Like the ostrich with only its head lowered and hidden behind a rock, but it’s entire body exposed, the shamed person instinctively hopes, “If I can’t see you, you can’t see me.” This is true in our relationships not only with one another but also with God. We naturally run away, but God graciously draws and sometimes even drives us to Himself, and if we come to God, He also calls us to come back to people in a genuine way (see, e.g., the two great commandments in Matthew 22:34-40 and Luke 10:25-37). We really only have two options in life. We can either allow the things we feel and experience in life to cause us to run away from God and people, or we can allow them to drive us back to God and people. Now that we have “the knowledge of good and bad,” the only good and right thing to do with it is to run to God and submit it to Him and His guidance in our lives. This is spiritual formation. Without Him we have no hope in this life or in the next.
Seventh, the fear and the combined force of all the other dynamics discussed above led to scrambling, as reflected in Genesis 3:7-13:
7 . . . they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves . . . 8 they hid from the LORD God among the trees of the garden . . . 12 The man said, “The woman you put here with me—she gave me some fruit from the tree, and I ate it.” 13 . . . The woman said, “The serpent deceived me, and I ate.”
Deception led to doubt, which led to illegitimate desire, which led to disobedience, which led to shame, which led to fear, all of which drove them to “scrambling,” that is, scurrying about trying desperately to handle themselves, each other, God, and the world. There is absolutely no “rest” here. They are in a panic, and when people are in a panic they really do not care about anyone else. Others get ignored, or even run over.
Scrambling is a very foolish and wicked thing, and it happens just naturally. Neither God nor anyone else told them to scramble in the garden, and since we are heirs of the fall, no one has to tell us to scramble either. It was a natural disposition that arose immediately from within the man and the woman in the garden – from within their personal human spirit – and manifested itself in the relationship between the two of them and between them and God. Since that day it has been a most natural disposition in all of us, and it affects every part of our life, right down to the very core of who we are in our spirit and out into all our relationships with God and people.
If it were not so disastrous, it would be comical. They scramble around to cover themselves. How good do you suppose clothing would be that is made of fig leaves? God did not think it was so good, so later He made them clothing out of leather, 3:21. How much sense does it make to try to hide from God? How much sense does it make for us to do the same? But how many act as if they can, and perhaps convince themselves that He is not even there. Of course, they had never tried to hide from God before, but it shows the foolishness of the whole enterprise of scrambling.
Then we come to the blaming. The man’s answer to God is classic: the woman whom, by the way, you God gave to be with me here, she is the one who gave me the fruit to eat. I didn’t start this, she did. It’s her faulty, and, in fact, you created the problem in the first place by giving her to me. This is actually a realistic and natural reading of the text in Hebrew as well as in English. There is, of course, truth in what the man said, but it is all slanted in a particular direction, away from his own culpability. This is part of his scrambling, and, unfortunately, we show it today in much of what we do as well when we scramble. Similarly, the woman’s answer to God has truth in it, but this is also slanted toward deflecting the blame away from herself: the serpent deceived me and that’s why I ate. No one says, yes, it’s my fault.
In this shifting of blame we have not only walls going up between the man and the woman and between both of them and God, but now also enmity and battle. Now “bombs” are being “lobbed” over the walls. This gets expanded in the story of Cain and Abel in Genesis 4, which is also part of the Genesis 2-3 account.  Cain killed Abel, his brother, because of the shame he was feeling, and he was not willing to let go of it and turn to God for help with the shame. As a result, the shame turned to rage, and the rage to murder, the murder of his own brother.
So what we end up with is a bunch of scramblers bouncing off each other’s scrambling, doing damage to one another in the process. This is reality. This and the effects of God’s curses in the next section of Genesis 3 are all part of the groaning and pain referred to in Romans 7-8. Some people learn to scramble in more acceptable ways than others, but we all scramble. In fact, each one of us develops a characteristic way of scrambling – a manner of scrambling that has been hammered out on the anvil of our own personal experiences in life. It has even worked for us to one degree or another, in particular ways. Unfortunately, often people do not see their scrambling for what it is. They think of it as “just who I am,” or even “who God made me to be.” But these things do serious damage to us and our relationships with God and other people, often even the people we care about the most. Certainly, God made each one of us to be unique individuals, and the image and likeness of God is still alive in us, but our “scrambling” takes us all into the dark alleys of life in all sorts of ways.
Soul Rest and Spiritual Formation
We find ourselves in the disastrous situation described above, and continue to make it worse because of the many ways we continue to reject God and His design for us and our world. Nevertheless, He has stayed involved with us and there really is a redemptive “rest” to be found amid the “mess” that we are and in which we live. This is what spiritual formation is about. We stand somewhere within the historical stream of the outworking of God’s redemptive program. Yes, eventually there will be a remaking of all things new and pure (Revelation 21-22). In the meantime, one of the most helpful ways of characterizing the dynamics of redemption and spiritual formation is with the biblical concept of “rest.” The opposite of “scrambling” is “resting.” Evidently, this is how the pre-flood population of the earth understood the issue too. In the naming of Noah in Genesis 5:29, Lamech said, “This one will give us rest from our work and from the toil of our hands arising from the ground which the LORD has cursed” (NASB). The name “Noah” (nōakh) means “rest” and the root of the verb “give us rest (or ‘comfort’)” is nākham. So we have here another play on words. The hope was that Noah would bring “rest” rather than unceasing toil, pain, and scrambling. They thought of themselves as being in need or “rest/comfort” in the midst of the mess.
From here we turn first to the offer Jesus made to those who are weary and loaded down with heavy burdens in Matthew 11:28-30:
1- “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.
2- Take my yoke upon you and learn from me,
3- for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.
4- For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
The “rest” Jesus offers here has nothing to do directly with sleep, relaxation, or going on vacation, although it is true that some people can’t sleep, relax, or truly enjoy a vacation because they are not “at rest” within themselves and/or in their relationships with others.
Jesus certainly does not condone irresponsibility, idleness, laziness, escapism or anything of that sort. Elsewhere in the same Gospel Jesus said, “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me” (Matthew 16:24; the parallel in Luke 9:23 says we are to do this “daily”). Peter calls us to “make every effort” to grow in the Christian virtues (2 Peter 1:5-8) and remain pure (2 Peter 3:14), and to “be on your guard” against the error of lawless men (2 Peter 3:17). There is no “let go and let God” here. No, there is both “rest” and “yoke,” and notice that Jesus speaks of the two alternately (compare “rest” in 1 and 3 with “yoke” in 2 and 4, above).
One would not normally think of putting “rest” and “yoke” together, since a yoke was a means of harnessing animals for work. Here Jesus is calling us to take on His yoke so we can learn from Him, and His yoke is not tiresome or heavy, since He is “gentle and humble in heart” toward us. The term “yoke” is used in various ways elsewhere in scripture. In Acts 15, for example, there were those who wanted to make it a rule that gentiles who came to faith in Christ “must be circumcised and required to obey the law of Moses” (v. 5). Part of Peter’s response to this proposal was: “Now then, why do you try to test God by putting on the necks of the disciples a yoke that neither we nor our fathers have been able to bear?” (v. 10; cf. Galatians 5:1). By way of contrast, he added: “No! We believe it is through the grace of our Lord Jesus that we are saved, just as they are” (Acts 15:10-11).
It seems that the “yoke” in Matthew 11:28-30 is the yoke of the Mosaic law, or more specifically, the exceedingly burdensome way the leaders of the Jews in the days of Jesus taught the law. His response to their view of the sabbath in Matthew 12:1-14 immediately following this rest passage seems to suggest this, as do some other passages (e.g., Matthew 23:1-4; cf. Matthew 5:20, etc.). Moreover, in Jeremiah 5:5 the term “yoke” refers to the rebellion of Judah against the Lord: “with one accord they too had broken off the yoke and torn off the bonds.” This is especially significant because when Jesus said, “you will find rest for your souls” in Matthew 11:29, he was citing from Jeremiah 6:16:
This is what the LORD says: “Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls. But you said, ‘We will not walk in it.’”
“Rest” and the “yoke” of Jesus belong together. In fact, the “rest” comes from the fact that by coming to Him for rest for our souls we cast off the yoke that others have placed on us, or that we have fashioned by our own hand and placed on ourselves. We set aside the harsh and burdensome yoke of our lives and, instead, we take on what Jesus refers to as his “yoke,” which is “easy” and he even gives us a “light” burden to pull with the yoke (Matthew 11:30). After all, there is only one to please, and he is the all-powerful Lord of all things who is “gentle and humble in heart” toward us, who does not wish to overburden us. His yoke is simple and plain. It amounts to two basic commandments: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind,” and “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:37-39). In fact, if one does this he has fulfilled “all the Law and the Prophets” (v. 40).
The Spirit of Adoption and Spiritual Formation
The plain fact of the matter is that this invitation from Jesus stands at the center of the Christian gospel. It is an open invitation to those who are in trouble and they know it. We do not gain acceptance before God and relationship with Him from a position of strength, but by coming to Him in our desperation. This is the point in Romans 7-8 too. There has been an ongoing debate about the general natured of the argument of Rom 7:14-24, where Paul describes the frustration of “what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do” (v. 15).  Some scholars argue that Paul is referring to himself in his unsaved condition, and others think he is referring to his battle with sin as a Christian. Perhaps there is a better option than either of these. It seems to me that Paul is talking about how the dynamic of living by the law works whether you are a Christian or a non-Christian. He is treating the law generically in terms of its inherent dynamic if one attempts to live by means of it as their principle of life. There is another dynamic that sets us free from this one. It is the Holy Spirit at work in our human spirit, bringing things freely given to us by God fully to bear (see the remarks on 1 Corinthians 2:12 above the discussion presently).
At the end of Romans 8 the Apostle comes to the conclusion that deliverance is found in what Jesus Christ has done our behalf. There is “rest” in him and him alone, because according to Romans 8:1, “there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” This sets us free from the tangle of the pervious chapter and puts us on a course toward the “spirit of adoption” that is the main topic of Romans 8 (note esp. v. 15). As the “wind” of the Holy “Spirit” blows into and through our lives, we become able to bear the groaning of this life (Romans 8:22-25) as we are progressively more and more “conformed to the likeness of his Son” through the difficult circumstances of our lives (vv. 26-30). God really does make all things work out for good in this way. Moreover, we become deeply impressed with God himself, the things he has freely given to us in Christ, and the fact that there is nothing that “will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (v. 39b, in the context of vv. 31-39). Romans 8 ends with what is essentially a hymn of confidence in the things freely given to us by God, especially our adoption.
The point is that a very important part of a biblically focused spiritual formation agenda will attend to the work of the Holy Spirit in the human spirit. This is the very essence of spiritual formation at its foundation. We ourselves cannot actually “do” spiritual formation, but the Holy Spirit can. He does it by working deeply and powerfully in the believer’s spirit, thereby transforming every aspect of the believer’s life. This transformation includes even our personality or personal character: “. . . the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. . . . Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit” (Galatians 5:22-23, 25). This “fruit of the Spirit,” of course, is the opposite of scrambling, which is the essence of “the works of the flesh” listed in the previous verses (Galatians 5:19-21).
Conclusion
Admittedly, it is difficult to grasp the concept of the human “spirit” fully. Perhaps it helps to recall what Jesus said to Nicodemus about the Holy Spirit in John 3:8, “The wind (pneuma) blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit (pneuma).” Thus, the Spirit of God is like the “wind,” and wind is not something we can lay our hands on (or our minds) in such a way that we can control it (John 3:8; Acts 2:1). Yet wind is an important and most powerful physical force in the world, and the Holy Spirit is likewise important and powerful as his work is brought to bear on a person’s human spirit in ways that are deeply transforming. The same Holy Spirit who inspired the writing of scripture through the prophets (Hebrews 1:1 with 2 Peter 1:20-21; cf. also theopneustos “God breathed” in 2 Timothy 3:16) brings the truths of that very same scripture to bear upon us, especially the truths about “what God has freely given us” in Christ Jesus (1 Corinthians 2:12b).
Now, recall Romans 8:16 again, “The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children.” By the very nature of things, our knowledge of God through his Holy Spirit is intimately bound up with our knowledge of ourselves, that is, our human spirit, and vice versa. This is the so-called “double knowledge” that Calvin discusses in the first chapter of his Institutes.  Finally, recall once again 1 Corinthians 2:10-16. We truly know God only when the Holy Spirit of God, who knows God deeply, is “received” into the very realm of our human spirit, which, in turn, knows us and our scrambling deeply. Thus, “we speak of these things in words not taught by human wisdom but taught by the Spirit, interpreting spiritual things to those who are spiritual” (v. 13, NRSV), so we actually “have the mind of Christ” (v. 16b).
It is the Gospel that transforms us as the Holy Spirit brings its various truths to bear upon us. Moreover, the Gospel is always “good news” to everyone, non-Christian and Christian alike. Even if we are already genuine believers, there are always ways in which the impact and significance of the Gospel still needs to be worked into our human spirit, and from there into every aspect of our lives. This is what spiritual formation is all about at its core – the work of the Holy Spirit in our human spirit.
© 2005 Richard E. Averbeck