Eating My Own Spiritual Casseroles and Growing Thereby

This past week I received 110 copies of my newly published book and have taken time each day to eat and walk my way through my own copy, highlighting and marking as I go. Spiritually thirsty and hungry, I’m letting my own chapters, rich in Scriptures, feed me. I’m needy. I need everything in these pages and so much more.

I’m reminded of Martin Luther’s insight that to form a theologian (that is, every Christ-follower) three ingredients are necessary: prayer, meditation on Scripture, and affliction.  We are blessed with an abundance of opportunities to experience all three of these. Really?

Prayer. It is always available, and the weight of the pressure (any affliction) can rivet us to prayer — a blessing.

The Scriptures. How embarrassingly ubiquitous are copies of the Bible in our homes, at stores, on our computers, and on our phones.  Why do I call this embarrassing? First, we are drenched in the availability of God’s Word but find it so easy to ignore. Such irreverence forms a blatant irony, embarrassing before God. We should be like Daniel and confess our sins and the sins of our people to God.  “Lord, have mercy on us!”

Affliction. Daily, we are saddened by some news — personal and relational, or political and whatever (which mixes with daily good news). As we enter the holiday seasons, we return to face situations where our years of patterned interactions with those we love and those we should love cause us both joy and distress. What about the absence of interaction with those we love but won’t be seeing this season? There may be grief. There may be relief. There may be bittersweet memories, and maybe some deeper bonding with those who share our memories. Joy in its various sizes and attire is always in the room, waiting to be noticed. The holidays are an adventurous and precarious mix. Jesus is always in the mix, giving us strength and hope and what I call quiet joy (if we are attentive).

Three ingredients nudge our growth: prayer, mediation on Scripture, and affliction. Why are troubles necessary to make prayer and thoughts on Scripture effective in our lives?

I begin an answer to this in my book, A Traveler’s Guide through Suffering and Joy, where I quote the great 19th century theologian, Charles Hodge who clarifies to us the original nature of human nature as God designed it. Hodge explains that man and woman, created in God’s image, were so designed that

their “reason was subject to God”;

their “will was subject” to their reason;

their “affections and appetites” agreed with their will;

and their bodies were “the obedient organ” of their souls.

Hodge amplified, saying that “there was neither rebellion of the sensuous part of [their]

nature against the rational, nor was there any disproportion between them needing to be

controlled or balanced” by outside “gifts or influence” (pp. 9, 10, 12, and 186 in my book).

With the Fall of the human race came dissonance in the soul and life of every human being. So sad but so real. By our first born, fallen nature, our powers of reason, will, and affections expressed through our living are not in agreement and harmony with our loving Creator. But God has provided for us a second born nature.

My book shows how God demonstrated His sovereignty by taking on the sin, grief, and sorrow of the race through Christ’s life, death, and resurrection. Accepting Christ’s new nature in us when we confess our sin and need and accept God’s provision of new life does not obliterate our old nature. Now, we experience an inner battle.

This is why outside pressure (“gifts or influence”) becomes essential in order for God to shape us, correct us, and redirect us (2 Tim. 3:16-17), forming us more like His Son (Rom. 8:28-29).

If we were naturally like Jesus, we would need no influence outside of us to form or shape our love and loyalty to our Creator-Lord. From our hearts and through our entire behavioral expressions, we would exude, “I come to do God’s will.” “My food is to do the will of the Father.”

It is not naturally so for us. Only supernaturally and haltingly. Thus, in order for prayer and the Word to accomplish their purposes, we need suffering to knead godliness within us through the work of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit takes the outside pressure or suffering to produce change from within which works its way out (Gal. 5: 19-25).

Affliction. Persecution. Suffering. Loss. Pain. Stress. Irritation. Disappointment. Suffering comes in varieties (I Pet. 1:6; James 1: 2). Much of our holiday suffering will probably not involve outright persecution here in the USA. We can rejoice in that. However, whatever the nature of personal suffering, it is important to face, accept, and process with the Lord. In her book, A Path through Suffering, Elisabeth Elliot (1926-2015), a Bible translator, defines “suffering” in the simplest way. Suffering is “having what you don’t want, or wanting what you don’t have” (pp. 108-111 in my book).  We’ll probably have some of this during this season. Elisabeth offers four steps in dealing with suffering of every kind. I re-read her counsel this week and put it again into practice. God soothed my sorrow. A quiet joy slowly emerged. God’s goodness caused me to smile.

During this holiday (holy-season), let us accept the pressures stemming from our broken past, our dysfunctional relationships, the irritations and the humor that present themselves, and let’s ask Jesus to walk with us through it all. Quietly in our hearts, we will talk to the Lord about everything we are experiencing. We will practice accepting others in their idiosyncrasies, just as we wish them to accept us in ours.

Somehow, we will be better for it, and we can accept meaningful joy from drawing closer to Him and letting Jesus carry our burdens with us (Matt. 11:28-29). Quietly.

In these last few days I’ve completely read through A Traveler’s Guide through Suffering and Joy. Scripture’s anchor along with insight from Christian forbearers such as Martin Luther, Charles Hodge, and Elisabeth Elliot are feeding me. Mixing their lessons has been like eating  mouth-watering, nutritiously dense, savory casseroles. Strengthened, now the inspiration is to follow their lead. As the Apostle Paul said, “Follow me, as I follow Christ” (1 Cor. 11:1). That’s what Pedestrian Theologians do. Especially during the holy-holiday season.