Use the proper lingo, and say whatever is “acceptable.” Go to the right places, and promulgate the proper principles. It seems that these are the chief characteristics that we look for in a Christian. You are spiritual and holy, and you deserve respect, if you fit the stereotype.
The other day, I was listening to such an individual, who was demonstrating his spirituality over the radio. He is a rather popular guy, and he is someone that others have recommended to me. As I concentrated on his words and the way he related to his listeners, there was no doubt that he fulfilled the expectations of many within the Christian community. But, as I absorbed his manner, something dawned on me. He sounded like–and I don’t intend to be mean–a jerk. At least when I was listening, he sounded too self-assured, condescending, and arrogant.
Though nearly everyone (in the church) would hold him up as a standard bearer, I honestly wonder what standards govern us. Of course I do not know the man, and I truly hope that he’s a nice guy, and that God blesses him (I’m sure he already has). What’s more, I know that I, too, can be a jerk, so I certainly don’t want to display my own version of arrogance. But, whatever correct principles he promulgated (and I think he did this), whatever truth he embodied (and, again, I don’t doubt this), he came across as a typical, in-your-face believer.
What role, I asked myself, does love play in our evaluation of spirituality? How about looking out for others, denying ourselves, and displaying traits like gentleness and compassion? Though proper principles ought to be shared with others, and while we ought not apologize for our adherence to that which is sometimes unpopular, these should be an outworking of deeper ideals.
It seems, at least to me, that we have messed up priorities, and we often pay the price for it as those outside the church wonder about our silly and hard-to-understand priorities. Yes, those who are faithful will experience persecution, but we mustn’t think that we’re spiritual big shots, great defenders of the faith, simply because we’re criticized for being . . . well, arrogant loudmouths. When we are criticized (and we will be at times), it ought to be for our stance for the truth; that’s a part of it. But I truly hope that this isn’t the only thing we’re known for.
Do people see us giving consistent expression (and not simply exclamation) of the truth? Are we known for our God-enabled willingness to lend a hand? Do we care, and can others tell? Is our reputation one of (what shall we call it?) bold kindness? How often do we display unfeigned concern for others? These are the things that we too often miss in defining and evaluating and living out our spirituality.
It’s relatively easy to stand with a bunch of people and say this or that. Though we mustn’t minimize the relevance of words properly spoken (I would never want to do that!), it is imperative that we exude the truth in real and undeniable ways. This is no easy task, for we are pressured by circumstances, the struggles of life, the pressure of others to conform to less than holy ways, and our own erratic hearts. But this is, I think, the path to genuine spirituality. “Lord, help me (us) to embody the faith and not merely talk about it.”
The other day, I was listening to such an individual, who was demonstrating his spirituality over the radio. He is a rather popular guy, and he is someone that others have recommended to me. As I concentrated on his words and the way he related to his listeners, there was no doubt that he fulfilled the expectations of many within the Christian community. But, as I absorbed his manner, something dawned on me. He sounded like–and I don’t intend to be mean–a jerk. At least when I was listening, he sounded too self-assured, condescending, and arrogant.
Though nearly everyone (in the church) would hold him up as a standard bearer, I honestly wonder what standards govern us. Of course I do not know the man, and I truly hope that he’s a nice guy, and that God blesses him (I’m sure he already has). What’s more, I know that I, too, can be a jerk, so I certainly don’t want to display my own version of arrogance. But, whatever correct principles he promulgated (and I think he did this), whatever truth he embodied (and, again, I don’t doubt this), he came across as a typical, in-your-face believer.
What role, I asked myself, does love play in our evaluation of spirituality? How about looking out for others, denying ourselves, and displaying traits like gentleness and compassion? Though proper principles ought to be shared with others, and while we ought not apologize for our adherence to that which is sometimes unpopular, these should be an outworking of deeper ideals.
It seems, at least to me, that we have messed up priorities, and we often pay the price for it as those outside the church wonder about our silly and hard-to-understand priorities. Yes, those who are faithful will experience persecution, but we mustn’t think that we’re spiritual big shots, great defenders of the faith, simply because we’re criticized for being . . . well, arrogant loudmouths. When we are criticized (and we will be at times), it ought to be for our stance for the truth; that’s a part of it. But I truly hope that this isn’t the only thing we’re known for.
Do people see us giving consistent expression (and not simply exclamation) of the truth? Are we known for our God-enabled willingness to lend a hand? Do we care, and can others tell? Is our reputation one of (what shall we call it?) bold kindness? How often do we display unfeigned concern for others? These are the things that we too often miss in defining and evaluating and living out our spirituality.
It’s relatively easy to stand with a bunch of people and say this or that. Though we mustn’t minimize the relevance of words properly spoken (I would never want to do that!), it is imperative that we exude the truth in real and undeniable ways. This is no easy task, for we are pressured by circumstances, the struggles of life, the pressure of others to conform to less than holy ways, and our own erratic hearts. But this is, I think, the path to genuine spirituality. “Lord, help me (us) to embody the faith and not merely talk about it.”