“True knowledge of God is born out of obedience” – John Calvin.

Peterson does a great job in this chapter of setting out the context of faith. There are so many quotes that I would share with you from this chapter – I hope, instead, that you will take the time to read it, or re-read it, carefully.

Obedience, as most of you know, is about listening – or rather, hearing, the commands of another in such a way that it affects our behavior. In the Webster house we have some rules for our kids, and the first of those rules is “listen and do, obey your mom and dad”. Listen and do – hear and follow – that is the gist of obedience. It is both awareness and responsiveness to the direction of another. Obedience to God, then, is about hearing the direction of God in our lives and letting that sense of direction guide our thoughts and actions. The type of hearing that changes our outlook and behavior is holy obedience.

Peterson compares the disobedient and obedient in this way:

“The only person they consult is themselves, and the only experience they evaluate is the most recent ten minutes. But we need experiences, the community of experience of brothers and sisters in the church, the centuries of experience provided by our biblical ancestors. A Christian who has David in his bones, Jeremiah in the bloodstream, Paul in his fingertips and Christ in his heart will know how much and how little value to put on his momentary feelings and the experience of the past week.”(pgs 166-167).

The quote was part of a larger conversation about the connection between faithful memory and obedience. For Peterson, the disciple can enjoy a deep and broad “memory” of God’s faithfulness and direction. This religious memory is one of the important means by which we gain a sense of direction from God in our lives – about how we should act and react to the opportunities and challenges of life. Here is what Peterson says:

“With a biblical memory we have two thousand years of experience from which to make the off-the-cuff responses that are required each day in the life of faith. If we are going to live adequately and maturely as the people of God, we need more data to work from than our own experience can give us.”(pg. 166).

The idea that there is a deep well-spring of faithful insight that supports the life of a disciple is one of the great things about the Christian Tradition. Tradition, in the Christian context, is the living faith of the dead – passed on to us today. We do not face the questions of life each time for the very first time. That is not true in science, or mathematics, and it is not true for our faith. In reality, our understanding of truth – and this includes matters of faith – is cumulative. None of our experiences are in isolation – so why do we often attempt to address these questions as though they have never been addressed before? Why do our faith communities often ignore the cumulative wisdom of God’s people over the course of the ages?

Sometimes obedience sounds too heavy – that it is a matter of fulfilling a set of rules imposed from without. However, following God’s will for our lives is about becoming a truest selves – growing into the fullness of God’s image in us. Obedience to God is hopeful – for as we follow God’s will in our lives we become all that God is calling us to be in Christ Jesus. Peterson describes obedience as a “race of hope” – that we should follow God with energy and enthusiasm. What a great image – racing after Christ through our life!

My prayer for us is that we may live into this last quote:

“We need roots in the past to give obedience ballast and breadth; we need vision of the future to give obedience direction and goal. And they must be connected. There must be an organic unity between them.” (pg. 170)

Amen!

Peterson spends a lot of time working through humility from the perspective of two extremes: Ambition and Dependency. The chapter takes a while to work through, but in pure Aristotelian fashion, it arrives at a place of quiet and confident spiritual humility.

Ambition, as Peterson understands it, is a vice that is all too common. Our society loves ambition – hard work and getting ahead are values in our society. Personally, I believe that they are good values. Our Christian tradition embraces a theology of work, one in which we give honor a glory to God as we exercise our natural gifts and abilities and are productive. Success is a good thing – the Proverbs and Psalms are full of examples of ways in which success is celebrated spiritually. However, ambition has a dark side – the insatiable drive for “more”. Ambition, if left unchecked, is a hunger for the things of life – money, attention, position – that distracts us from our relationship with God. Ambition, if we are not careful, can become an idol. An idol to things and, sadly, an idol to self. Peterson thinks that a better word would be “Aspiration” – ‘the channeled, creative energy that moves us to growth in Christ, shaping goals in the Spirit’(153). If a change in words helps to make the distinction, I am fine with that. What is important, I think, is that a proper sense of development – of Aspiration or Ambition – must be Christ-centered if we are to be authentic disciples. Whatever we do, or achieve, it must not be just us – but Christ working in us.

Aspiration is not only contrasted with the egotism of ambition, but also with dependency. The dependency that Peterson describes is the “the dishrag saint: the person upon whom everyone walks and wipes their feet, the person who is used by others to clean up the mess of everyday life and then is discarded”(154). This is the person who appears to have lost a sense of healthy boundaries and to have lost a healthy respect for the Imago Dei – the image of God. As a disciple, as a child of God, we have an inherent value and worth. There is a dignity that is ours because we are loved by God. However, if the disciple does not set healthy boundaries for one’s self and for others, then there is a disrespect for God. Part of healthy boundaries is not relying constantly upon the ‘emotional highs’ of faith. For some Christians there is a need to constantly be affirmed by the Holy Spirit, in extraordinary emotional ways, that they are still loved. Peterson notes that just as a child is weaned and deals with separation anxiety – so too, the disciple must be able to recognize that the divine presence is experienced differently as we grow up in faith. This is the difference between dependency and trust – the disciple is now a child that trusts in the love of the Father even when it is not felt.

As I reflect on the chapter I think that Christian humility is the process where we come to a more mature understanding of who God is, who we are, and what we are called to. Humility reminds me that God wants to me to grow, to become the person that I have been created and called to be. Humility reminds me that whatever I accomplish in life, it is not just I, but it is Christ in me that is at work. At the same time, humility reminds me that I have value in God’s eyes – even when I may not feel like it. Christian humility helps me not only to set boundaries with others, but also with my inner-most fears…including the fear that somehow I am just not loveable in God’s eyes.

Over the years I have come to appreciate that there are nearly two sides to every experience – things seem to come in pairs. Risk and reward, effort and achievement, joy and sorrow, death and growth….suffering and hope. Sometimes we fall victim to the myth that things are one-sided. Sometimes we strive for the pleasurable, the enjoyment – but deny the effort or the suffering. At other times things seem so bad in our lives – losses so great – that we cannot see the opportunities that lie ahead. Suffering is real…and so is hope. And it is the Christian Hope that I want to share with you in this blog.

Recently I have seen a lot of suffering. Friends of ours experienced a horrible tragedy – a car accident and the death of a father and husband. This family is suffering. The wife and mother remains in the hospital and the children – mostly grown, now face the prospect of rehabilitation for their only parent. Income concerns must be present. And, since the father was a pastor and the family lived in parish housing, most likely a move to a new residence. Our congregation has been praying for them, and they have received the love and support of many people…but their suffering is real. Their grief is real and any attempt to move past it, too quickly, dishonors their experience. It also short-circuits God’s grace and salvation.

Hope, according to Peterson is: “…a confident, alert expectation that God will do what he said he will do. It is imagination put in the harness of faith. It is a willingness to let God do it his way and in his time. It is the opposite of making plans that we demand that God put into effect, telling him both how and when to do it. That is not hoping in God but bullying God.”(144)

Hope is a great gift from God. Hope is faithful belief that God’s grace, and not the suffering we experience, is the final answer. Hope is the most Christian response to life – it is honest, real and faithful. Hope recognizes our current condition for what it is, suffering and all, and places our hearts and lives before God in expectation that the God of life and light and love is not through with us. Sometimes the tears of our hearts seem to flow without ceasing. However, as our sorrow flows, so too, God pours love and mercy into our lives to give us hope.

In Romans chapter 5, Paul tells us that “And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance character; and character hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, who he has given us”.

Our life in Christ began in the waters of Baptism. God’s life was poured into our hearts and we were marked as God’s own, forever. It is this identity, as very members of Christ’s Body, that our hope is secure. And it is through the ministry of the Spirit that this hope is poured into our hearts – even as we walk through the valley of tears. Amen.

Recently I have been playing “Star Wars” with my oldest son. He is in that stage where light sabers are cool and he wants to be “Luke”…guess who gets to be “Vader”? Well, it is a ton of fun and a great bit of exercise too, I might add. What I have noticed, however, is that my son will get frustrated at the first moment when things do not go his way. If “Luke” does not get “Vader” at just the right time, or if the choreography of our light saber duels do not mirror his imagination, well, then, that just will not do. In fact, he gets really impatient with me sometimes – more more often with himself – and then the tears of a young boy begin to flow. It is frustrating for him and, as his father, I want to console him. Welcome to the world of impatience in the imagination of a child.

Sometimes I look at him and I see myself. My impatience is not normally with light saber duels, but sometimes the issues may not be much more important. Patience is tough to learn (be careful before you ask God to teach you patience) because it is a skill acquired in the context of frustration. I think we all get impatient and frustrated from time to time in most aspects of our lives. So what about frustration in your faith life? Do you ever find yourself frustrated with God, or yourself, or both?

In this chapter Peterson reminds us that faith is not a fad – “it is a way that works. It has been tested thoroughly” (128). He goes on to describe the way in which, according to Psalm 129, the Israelites had tested faith in God – the test came through the frustrations and trials of life. The Israelites were a people who had become familiar with struggle and loss – the story of their nation was not a glowing success story. In fact, by most outside standards, it was a failure. So, why was faith in God, for them, not a fad?

Peterson reminds us that the Israelites were passionate about their faith – even when it seemed futile – and this passion lead to perseverance. Passion about God and about their identity as God’s chosen people provided them with the energy to continue to care even in the darkest, most painful times of their history. Sometimes their passion came out in tears, and sometimes in shouts for joy, but what is clear is that passion cannot be hidden. Passion is the engine that keeps one going in the tough times. The passion of the Jewish people is alive and well today – thousands of years later.

As a pastor, passion is one of the things I look for in dealing with pastoral care – particularly marriage preparation. When I meet a couple, I want to know if they are passionate about each other and if they are passionate about God. My experience has been that the couples who remain passionate about each other, and who are passionate in their faith life, have the necessary energy to see most challenges in their relationship through. The great warning sign in relationships – including our relationship with God – is whether or not the passion is there. Do we really, really care? Do we care enough to overcome the challenges in our lives, both spiritual and personal? I often ask myself “are you really passionate about God?”. Sometimes it is a tough question to ask – but it is a necessary one if my faith is to be more than just another fad.

And I think this issue of passion helps me to appreciate the perseverance of my son, the “young Jedi”, even more. Although he gets frustrated from time to time, he always comes back. As we examine our walk with Christ, I think it would serve us well to focus on our passion – and not simply our frustrations – in following Jesus. Is the desire to love God in our hearts? How can we build up the passion? For you see, the mark of perseverance in our faith is not our frustration level, but instead, our desire to keep coming back for more.

Here is a question – and I don’t have the answer: What is the difference between “happiness” and “joy”? I invite your responses.

In Chapter 8 of “A Long Obedience in the Same Direction” Peterson writes of joy in discipleship. Through our conversation we saw that Joy is intimately connected with suffering and sacrifice – that a truly joyful person cannot lead a life that simply escapes sacrifice, but rather, the sacrifice is transformed and the person’s joy is made complete in God’s blessing through and in spite of the suffering.

Here in Chapter 10 Peterson write about Happiness. Instead of providing a clear definition of Happiness, I find that Peterson talks around the subject. He begins the chapter with a discussion of “the good life”. That happiness and a good life are the product of one leading a life in accordance with God’s commands. At first it sounded a little like retributive justice (google this term if unfamiliar) – but I don’t think he means to go there. Here is what Peterson does say about the good life:

“He makes it clear that the way of discipleship is not a reduction of what we already are, not an attenuation of our lives, not a subtraction from what we are used to. Rather, he will expand our capacities and fill us up with life so that we overflow with joy.”(116-117).

As I read this I was reminded of what Jesus said in John 10:10 “I have come that you may have life, and have it more abundantly”. The gift of Jesus the Christ was not about sending in a new batch of “do not” rules. Instead, the ministry of Jesus is about showing us the way to the Father. In Jesus, we see what it means to be truly human and humane – we see the image of God that was supposed to be ours and, in Jesus, that image is being restored. Jesus makes humanity complete.

So I return to this idea of happiness and a full life. It seems to me that the blessing of discipleship is that as I walk with Christ, I am conformed to the image of Jesus. And as I become more like Jesus, the pattern of discipleship helps me to become the true “Phil Webster” that God intends me to be. To be one’s most authentic self – that really is happiness. The philosopher Aristotle understood happiness as action in accordance with nature. That may sound a little academic, but think about it. When we act according to our truest selves – when there is not gimmics or pretense in our thoughts or actions – that is when we are most authentic. Our society craves authenticity becuase we as individuals long to be authentic. This is the blessing of discipleship – following Jesus makes us “real” and we are then free to be the person God created us to be.

This concept of being authentic is not the same as the wanton individualism that music and movies portray. Contrary to Lady Gaga, “born this way” is not the path to happiness. The image of God in us is not something we impose on God or ourselves – it is only discovered when we conform ourselves to the image of God in Christ. Happiness is about being “reborn, God’s way”. Again, Peterson writes:

“Keeping the rules and obeying the commands is only common sense. People who are forever breaking the rules, trying other roads, attempting to create their own system of values and truth from scratch, spend most of their time calling up someone to get them out of trouble and help repair the damage, and then ask the silly question “what went wrong?”. As H. H. Farmer said, ‘if you go against the grain of the universe you get splinters’.”

I love that last line about the grain of the universe. This past summer my youngest son slide down a ramp – against my counsel – becuase it is what he wanted to do. It was a wooden ramp and, sure enough, he got splinters in his bottom…ouch. My heart went out to him as I tended his wounds. However, I wondered then and now, how often we, in pursuit of moments of “happiness”, slide down something against the wishes of our Father and end up with splinters in our bottom? My son, on that day, was not too happy about his choice. Most of us, when we “go against the grain of the universe” find ourselves in the same place – with metaphorical splinters in our body and soul and not too happy. My prayer for us is that we will follow Jesus, and in so doing follow the “grain of the universe” that leads us to the discovery of our truest selves.

“I have come that you might have life, and have it more abundantly” Amen.

As we approach the Christmas vacation, I doubt that there are many who care to read about work. And yet, the concept of work is critical to Christian spirituality and discipleship. The monastic tradition bears this out, particularly the Benedictines, and the dual focus on prayer and work “ora et labora”. Not everyone has looked so kindly on work. St. Paul had to have words with some of the members of the church at Thessalonica – some quite working, quite being engaged in productive labor, in anticipation of God’s imminent return. However, a constant theme in both the OT and NT is that work is good. “The foundational truth is that work is good. If God does it, it must be all right. Work has dignity: there can be nothing degrading about work if God works. Work has purpose: there can be nothing futile about work if God works” (Peterson, 109).

Seeing work as in a spiritual light is important for Christian disciples. The fact is that most of us spend the majority of our waking time at work – more than any other pursuit. Our work often shapes our identities, it affects our rituals and our health, and it is part of our plans for the future. The question for the disciple is whether and how one can find spiritual meaning in our work? How can your work and the job you do be connected, intentionally, with your identity as a child of God?

I think going back to creation is an important part of answering that question. The story of salvation begins with God’s work – the work of creation. And the first humans – God’s special creation – are invited to participate in God’s work. God entrusts creation of Adam and Eve’s care. In a special way, God includes the man and woman as partners in God’s creative work through the command to procreate and educate children. The gifts of memory, reason and skill are part of the call to work – through our gifts we may create and bring glory to God. Whether the work is that of an artist or a sandwhich artist, human effort has within it a dignity that can reflect the creative work of God in the world. This is a “theology of work”.

At the same time, there is a temptation to engage in senseless work – work simply for the sake of work – that ignores the most important context of our work; how our action fits into God’s action. The reality is that not all work is good or moral. Sometimes work may be contrary to the divine will for humanity – it may be destructive to persons or creation, and as such it has lost its reference to God’s work in the world. For the disciple of Jesus, our work must never ignore our participation in God’s work. Our work provides meaning and even refreshment to the degree that what we do is a follow-up to God’s work. In this sense, work is a vocation – a calling – to continue God’s creative work in the world.

The ultimate meaning of work is found in our worship…the “opus dei”. Just as most human work exists in community, the faith community finds its best expression in the work of worship. Certainly this worship takes place most clearly on Sunday morning. Yet, we can take the effects of worship with us into our daily lives. Similarly, we can bring to worship our whole selves – including our work – and offer it to God for blessing and purpose. And so, my prayer is that in those moments when our tasks may seem anything but holy, God’s Spirit may make us aware of the ways in which we are participating in God’s creative work and that our hearts, minds and hands may be refreshed with new purpose and dignity. Amen.