General CBF

Be still and know that I am God

The following post is from Joe LaGuardia, senior pastor at Trinity Baptist Church in Conyers, Ga.

JoeLaGuardiaSeveral weeks ago, when my wife preached a sermon on prayer, I was impressed with her illustration concerning a peach tree that we have growing in our garden.  We transplanted it last year, and before long it died.  It stayed dead throughout the summer, fall, and winter.

We thought, for sure, it was a goner, so we made plans to toss it this summer. Until, one day, my children were playing outside and noticed leaves on it.  Green leaves.  The first signs of life.

All this time, while we were assuming that the thing kicked the bucket, that little resilient peach tree was growing a root system and gaining the nourishment it needed to survive.  All of it happened below the surface, conforming to the seasons and demands of its surroundings one day at a time.

This metaphor is a perfect one for living the spiritual life because when it comes to our growth in Christ–our very faith formation–much of the work is accomplished below the surface, in a mundane routine that carries us from one day to the next.

Ours is a society that thrives on fast food, ever faster technology, and instant gratification.  We live life as if each day determines whether the next one will exist.  We feel that if we miss a meeting, fail to make the grade, oversleep every now and then, and–God forbid it–lay down in the grass, waste time, and watch the clouds, that the apocalypse will come upon us.

That peach tree taught my family and me that God does not need help keeping the cosmos in motion.  Life finds a way: yesterday comes and goes, today is half-way over, and “I wonder what I will eat for dinner tomorrow night.”  In the midst of busy thoughts and anxious hearts, the rotation of the earth still takes a full 24 hours, and New Year’s Eve will eventually fall on the 365th day as scheduled.

“Be still and know that I am God” (Ps. 46:10): That is what spiritual formation is all about.

Spiritual formation seems like a lofty word, but it is not as intimidating as it sounds.  In the words of Robert Mulholland, it is simply the “process of being conformed to the image of Christ for the sake of others.” It’s the process–sometimes intentional, some times accidental–of growing in Christ, learning from our mistakes along the way, and finding that God is working around us all the time despite whether we join that mission or not.  God works even when we fail to see fruit…or leaves for that matter.

God only calls us to do the hard work of living out our salvation on a day-to-day basis where our jobs, families, neighborhoods, and hobbies intersect. We put one foot in front of the other in the midst of messiness and conflict, fragile families, dysfunctional relationships, and failing economies.  We travel through the valleys and hope that the next mountain-top experience is not too far on the horizon.

Spiritual formation is like practicing scales repeatedly on a musical instrument.  It is tedious work, but it allows a student to master both the instrument and the notes.  By the time the student performs, she knows those notes so intimately she makes playing a score look easy.  The regimen of a committed life fully transforms random notes into prayerful music–a work of art made in honor of art’s Master.  Not to mention that she also learns how to play (and play with) the silences.

In a little story told in Luke 7:18-23, John the Baptist sent messengers to ask Jesus whether or not Jesus was the messiah, God’s anointed one, who would usher in a new era of salvation.   Everyone back then, John included, expected the messiah to come on the scene in a blaze of glory, raising an unstoppable army to overthrow the Roman Empire.

John had his doubts about Jesus because Jesus neither recruited an army nor campaigned for funding from the aristocracy.  Rather, Jesus spent time with the poor and powerless.  There weren’t any demonstrations of military power, only an anticlimactic Gospel message that emphasized reconciliation and forgiveness over violence and retaliation.

Poet Emily Dickinson once wrote, “The truth must dazzle gradually, or every man be blind.”  Jesus’ brand of truth unfolded at a sluggish pace.   After all, it took Jesus thirty years to prepare for a three-year ministry.  While the four evangelists only recorded the most exciting moments in this short history, we can’t help notice that the majority of Jesus’ life and ministry consisted of daily grind stuff.  That’s how Jesus chose to do it, though: with baby steps and a simple dedication to God’s will “for the sake of others.”

We often rush from one experience to another, overdosing on entertainment, gigabytes, and sugar-highs.  The Christian life, however, is one lived out in conformity to a God that is not always so exciting.  As 15th-century saint, Thomas A’Kempis, once noted: “Thou art called to endure and to labour, not to a life of ease and trifling talk.”  That’s good advice in an age tall on fads but falls short on long-term commitment and deep discipleship

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