"I know a planet where there is a certain red-faced gentleman. He has never smelled a flower. He has never looked at a star. He has never loved anyone. He has never done anything in his life but add up figures. And all day he says over and over, just like you: 'I am busy with matters of consequence!' And that makes him swell up with pride. But he is not a man--he is a mushroom!" (from The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
Sometimes the most beautiful truths are written in the language of children. How often in my own life I lose sight of what is truly important because I'm so caught up in 'matters of consequence' that seem so urgent in the moment. I lose the importance of loving the person in front of me because I'm so focused on things that demand to be addressed immediately. Another writer has called this the "Tyranny of the Urgent", and has wisely pointed out that
"we live in constant tension between the urgent and the important. The problem is that the important tasks rarely must be done today or even this week [...] But the urgent tasks call for instant action--endless demands pressure every hour and day."
Urgent tasks seem to be "matters of consequence," and like the red-faced gentleman in The Little Prince, we let ourselves swell up with pride in being so busy and having so many urgent tasks to demand our time. Urgent tasks will always clamor to be addressed in the moment, and we will feel a fleeting sense of accomplishment in being able to check them off of a to-do list. We use this sense of achieving and producing to justify to ourselves and others why we are not focusing on what truly matters. Urgent things are quantifiable, important things are not. Important things take time, they rarely yield immediate rewards, and they are hard to explain to people. But it is the important things that have the power to truly impact our lives and the lives of those around us.
When we look at the life of Jesus, we see that he consistently refused to yield to the urgent and instead focused on the important mission his Father had sent him on. Jesus knew the heart of his Father, and he spent a great deal of time and energy in prayer and meditation before his Father to stay focused on the importance of the things his Father was concerned with. How much more do we need to be focused on learning the heart of the Father as well! The urgent will always crowd out the important unless we intentionally focus on Who it is that we serve and what it is that He would have us do.
My pastor recently taught on really taking the time to know Jesus and love Him, because "the degree to which we see Jesus is the degree to which we serve Him." I can probably figure out things that God sees as important because I grew up in the Church, I read my Bible, and I had John 3:16 memorized years before I actually understood the depth of what it means. But if I try to follow through with what I understand as being important to God without really seeing and loving Jesus, these eternally important things become mere "matters of consequence" to be ticked off of a checklist, people are essentially objectified into figures to be added up, and I lose all of the love that would have fueled my actions. And, as Paul has said so eloquently,
"If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing." (1 Corinthians 13:1-3, ESV)
All of the things Paul lists are good things, but the actions alone are not the best thing. The best thing--the important thing--is Love. How easy it is to lose sight of the important! Lord, give me the grace to seek Your face and Your heart each and every day. May I see You and love You more today than I did yesterday so that I may truly focus on the important things You put in front of me today. I don't want to be a mushroom.
I joined a CrossFit-type gym here in Laramie, and I've been going with several of my coworkers during our lunch break every MWF. My boss warned us that for the first 6-8 weeks it feels like you've been hit by a train, but that eventually you get stronger, you recover faster, and then you can add more weight (...and start the pain cycle all over again). I believed him on some level, but I was definitely unprepared for how completely wrecked my body would be by these workouts. There was a part of me that subconsciously thought "These workouts are only a half hour. I can do anything for 30 minutes!"
False. I cannot do anything for 30 minutes. In fact, I can't do most of the workouts for the full 30 minutes. (Yet.)
I used to think I was strong, but these workouts have given me a serious dose of reality. And every time I go in for the 'workout of the day,' I'm humbled yet again. I'm realizing that I can believe I'm as strong as I want to, but the real proof comes when I start testing those muscles. If I don't push those muscles to their capacity, I can let myself think that they are much stronger and more capable than they actually are. Though it's humbling, frustrating, and discouraging to be physically unable to do the full workout, those muscles will never get stronger unless I keep pushing and working.
I think I fall into the same habit of thinking in life outside of "the Box." I can let myself think that I'm doing just fine in other areas in my life, but it's because I may not be stretching and testing myself. How do we train ourselves in those areas? Through community. If I am not entering into true, deep, intentional community with others, I will never grow as a whole person. Sure, I can read and think and journal to try and stretch myself, but what good will that growth do me if I don't act it out in community?
In his letter to the Philippians, Paul challenges the church to live in humble service to one another in community:
"If you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any fellowship with the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others." (Philippians 2:1-4 NIV84)
Paul calls the Philippians to live out their unity with Christ, through serving each other. Do you have any comfort from his love? Great! Share that comfort with your neighbor by serving them. Do you have fellowship with the Spirit? Praise God! That fellowship should drive you to enter into fellowship with your community and bless them. Has the Lord cultivated tenderness and compassion in you? Wonderful! Demonstrate his work by being tender and compassionate to those around you.
I can tell myself that I absolutely am growing in these areas, but unless I test those spiritual muscles and extend myself on behalf of others, how will I really know that I am growing? And how will I keep growing if I don't exercise those lessons in community?
Our salvation is never conditional upon what we do. Our salvation is paid for, completely and totally, by Christ's work on the Cross. But when the Lord starts doing a work in my life, I'm excited about it and I'm called to share that work with those in my life to increase their faith. Yes, it might be painful and humbling in the moment, but the results of His sanctifying work in my are definitely to be celebrated! It is through my actions and interactions within deep community that I get to demonstrate how He has changed and is changing me.
I am eagerly looking forward to going rock climbing this summer because I know that all of the pain, muscle spasms, and soreness right now are making me stronger and more able to do the things I love. Shouldn't I be just as eager to show what the Lord is doing in my heart and spirit?
Those familiar with the Leave No Trace (LNT) principles will know that the phrase 'cumulative impact' is frequently used to describe the effect of outdoor enthusiasts on the environments in which we play. One hiker sidestepping a muddy patch of trail won't do much damage; but a hundred hikers sidestepping the same muddy patch will widen the trail substantially. On the other side, one person choosing to clean up Snickers wrappers and microtrash from a campsite won't have much effect on the entire mountain range; but a hundred hikers consciously picking up after themselves (and others) will leave a much larger area in better condition. One decision might not effect noticeable change, but the cumulative impact of decisions effects significant change.
The same philosophy is true in one's walk with the Lord. I cannot simply pray once and expect a deep relationship with my heavenly Father. That relationship, like all relationships, must be intentionally cultivated. Soren Kierkegaard notes in Fear and Trembling that his generation is losing sight of the richness of a deep faith:
"In our time nobody is content to stop with faith but wants to go further. It would perhaps be rash to ask where these people are going, but is is surely a sign of breeding and culture for me to assume that everybody has faith, for otherwise it would be queer for them to be...going further. In those old days it was different, then faith was a task for a whole lifetime, because it was assumed that dexterity in faith is not acquired in a few days or weeks."
If this was true for Kierkegaard's generation, how much more so for our generation! I will not assume to speak for others, but I know that I have absolutely lost sight of what it means to live in a quiet daily relationship with my God. I often find myself wanting a deeper, more intimate, more fulfilling relationship with God...but I find other pursuits to distract myself and tell myself that I'm just refusing to settle for a quiet, inconsequential faith. I tell myself that when the timing is right, when I read the right theologians, when I can subdue my own heart, that some ambiguous day in the future I will finally "get it" and intimacy with God will happen. I expect immediate gratification, immediate intimacy with One to whom I won't even give 5 minutes each day. My proud heart is not content to seek the Lord in something so antiquated as daily time with Him.
"When the tried oldster drew near to his last hour, having fought the good fight and kept the faith, his heart was still young enough not to have forgotten that fear and trembling which chastened the youth, which the man indeed held in check, but which no man quite outgrows...except as he might succeed at the earliest opportunity in going further. Where these revered figures arrived, that is the point where everybody in our day begins to go further."
I pray that I learn the discipline of a quiet faith. I pray that I learn to live in the hope of intimacy. I pray that I learn to curb my tendencies to want "go further" and instead learn that faith is a task for a whole lifetime. I pray, hope, and know that the cumulative impact of a quiet faith is a powerful intimacy with the Lord.
