Discovering Our Spiritual Identity E-Book

Trevor Hudson

• Herausgeber: IVP Formatio
• Kategorie: Religion und Spiritualität
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2011

Seitenzahl: 389

Beschreibung

Each chapter in this workbook by Trevor Hudson is peppered with "holy experiments," simple practices that bring us into God's presence and help us experience life as his beloved. At the end of each chapter is a set of questions which are ideal for discussion with one or two spiritual friends or a small group.This practical and winsome book covers topics such as - hearing and speaking with God - growing in spiritual friendship - practicing stewardship of our work and play - learning discernment - approaching our death and the world beyond - living now in the kingdom of GodWherever you may find yourself along the Way, a real and vital spirituality awaits you in these pages.

Leseprobe

Trevor Hudson

Foreword by Dallas Willard

Discovering Our Spiritual Identity

Practices for God's Beloved

www.IVPress.com/books

InterVarsity Press P.O. Box 1400 Downers Grove, IL 60515-1426 World Wide Web: www.ivpress.com E-mail: [email protected]

Combined and revised edition © 2011 by Trevor Hudson

Previous editions were published as Signposts to Spirituality and Invitations to Abundant Life, both ©2007 by Struik Christian Books, a division of New Holland Publishing (South Africa). Signposts to Spirituality was also published as Christ-Following: Ten Signposts to Spirituality by Revell Books, Grand Rapids, Mich., 1995.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from InterVarsity Press.

InterVarsity Press® is the book-publishing division of InterVarsity Christian Fellowship/USA®, a movement of students and faculty active on campus at hundreds of universities, colleges and schools of nursing in the United States of America, and a member movement of the International Fellowship of Evangelical Students. For information about local and regional activities, write Public Relations Dept. InterVarsity Christian Fellowship/USA, 6400 Schroeder Rd., P.O. Box 7895, Madison, WI 53707-7895, or visit the IVCF website at www.intervarsity.org.

Scripture quotations, unless otherwise noted, are from the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible, copyright 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the USA. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Design: Cindy Kiple Images: © Andrew Cribb/iStockphoto

ISBN 978-0-8308-6856-8 (digital) ISBN 978-0-8308-1092-5 (print)

Contents

Foreword by Dallas Willard

Introduction

1: Drawing a Picture of God

2: Discovering Who We Are

3: Developing a Christian Memory

4: Receiving the Kingdom

5: Belonging to the Family of God

6: Becoming Holy, Becoming Ourselves

7: Loving Those Closest to Us

8: Discovering God’s Call for Our Lives

9: Practicing the Presence of God

10: Opening Our Hearts to God

11: Overcoming Evil Within and Around Us

12: Witnessing to the Good News

13: Stewarding Faithfully What We Possess

14: Speaking Words of Life and Power

15: Looking to the Life Beyond

16: Growing into Christlikeness

Conclusion

Acknowledgments

Further Reading

Notes

Praise for Discovering Our Spiritual Identity

About the Author

Other Books in This Series

Formatio

What Is Renovaré?

More Titles from InterVarsity Press

Foreword

In this book, Trevor Hudson states with utter simplicity and clarity the profound truths of Jesus Christ, about how we can live well and beautifully, no matter what our circumstances. Chapter by chapter, he takes the fundamental aspects of the life of faith in Jesus, the Master of Life, and spells them out in vivid language and practical procedures: finding our identity, hearing and speaking with God, speaking for God, the stewardship of our daily work and play, approaching our death and the world beyond, and living now as an apprentice of Jesus in the kingdom of God.

He draws constantly on his rich and fruitful experience as a pastor, retreat leader and counselor, but also on a broad and deep knowledge of the history and writings of Christ’s people through the ages. But this is done in a way that makes every treasure of his knowledge completely accessible. He gives us a gentle but honest book by revealing his own struggles, personally and in the wounded context of contemporary South Africa, where Christ still leads his followers in radiant triumph.

Trevor Hudson provides a profound and intensely practical guidebook to life as God intends it to be. It will be of great benefit both to individuals and to study groups.

Dallas Willard

Department of Philosophy

University of Southern California

Introduction

One day, during my sixteenth year, I became a Christ-follower. That gracious word of invitation, “ Follow me,” rooted in a great love that had sought me from my very beginnings, burned its way into my heart and evoked both desire and response. Since that moment of new beginnings I have been exploring how to live out within the context of my daily life my spiritual identity as God’s beloved. This search has connected me with the lives of many other seeking pilgrims along the Way. In recent years I have come to recognize this common seeking as a widespread yearning in the hearts of men and women for a vital and real spirituality.

Spirituality is a slippery word. Some are suspicious in its presence. For those whose daily lives revolve around frantic timetables of preparing breakfast, getting children to school on time, holding down a stressful eight-to-five job, paying monthly accounts and cleaning the house, the word sounds somewhat strange and impractical. It suggests another world of inactivity, passivity and uninterrupted silences. For those whose lives have been scarred by the wounds of suffering and oppression, the term often suggests escapism, indifference and non-involvement. Indeed the word needs definition. Therefore let me clarify the specifically Christian sense in which I shall be using the word: Spirituality is being intentional about the development of those Christ-shaped convictions, attitudes and actions through which our identity as God’s beloved is formed and given personal expression within our everyday lives.

Amidst this widespread yearning for a vital and real spirituality there is need for careful discernment. Many expressions of spirituality making the rounds within contemporary Christian congregations can only be described as foreign to the biblical tradition and unrelated to the spirit of the crucified and risen Lord. Often they are obsessively concerned with personal needs and reflect minimal concern for those who suffer. Alternatively, a spirituality of social struggle and involvement is frequently endorsed which avoids the biblical imperative for personal conversion and transformation. Such endorsement falls victim to the dangerous illusion that we can build a more just, equitable and compassionate society while we remain the same and continue life as usual.

Signposts

In this workbook I offer sixteen signposts toward the development of a renewed spirituality that is centered in the life of Jesus, our ever-present Savior and Lord, faithful to the treasures of the diverse streams within the Christian tradition, accessible to the people living next door, interwoven with those practical concerns that constitute daily living, and also deeply related to those human struggles taking place on the streets. I write neither as an academic theologian nor as an expert in the study of spirituality. The words that follow found their birth amidst the daily tasks of washing dishes and raising children, the vocational commitments of breaking bread, supporting and encouraging people along the Way, and the continual crises of a turbulent nation struggling to reconstruct itself. Within these tasks, commitments and crises, I have struggled, often unsuccessfully, to live out my identity as God’s beloved. This workbook is shaped by these struggles.

This workbook is for ordinary people who seek to follow Christ within the pressures, problems and pain of everyday life. Some may be hesitantly embarking on the first steps of the pilgrimage of faith. Some may be well-seasoned travelers requiring fresh resources for the journey. Some may be discouraged and weary pilgrims almost about to pull off the road. Some may be disillusioned by the crass spirituality that passes for much Christian practice today and wanting to explore an alternative route. Wherever you may find yourself along the Way, a real and vital spirituality always stretches toward the transforming of our personal lives and of the societies in which we live, work and play.

Discovering Our Spiritual Identity: Practices for God’s Beloved aims to help you experience this spirituality of personal and social transformation. Thankfully, as we seek to become more intentional in our Christ-following, we receive a gracious gift. Jesus himself, in the power of his Spirit, emerges from the pages of the Gospel, steps into our lives, and becomes an empowering and transforming presence. We discover how Christ can be our living teacher today as he was for those who discarded their nets and followed him by the Sea of Galilee. As we fall into step with him, within the beloved community, he shows us his way to live and provides us with strength to follow. Most wonderful of all, we discover that we are not alone.

Using This Book

Let me describe the elements of each chapter and how you can use them.

Signpost

This is a summary description of the chapter content. You may like to take some time to think about the signpost and wonder about its connections with your life and faith before you proceed any further.

Reading

Each chapter consists of several pages reflecting on the chapter theme. I hope that you will read each chapter as an open invitation to imagine yourself living your life as Jesus lived his. This does not mean trying to copy his Palestinian life with its sandals and robes. Nor does it mean always asking yourself, What would Jesus do now? The WWJD question keeps the relevance of Jesus’ teaching and guidance at an external level of our lives. Rather, may I suggest, ask how Jesus would do it if he was in your situation. The HWJDI question takes us on a much deeper journey of inner and outer transformation—the transforming of our seeing and listening, of our hearts and minds, of our attention and awareness, of our willing and our doing. How to go on this journey forms the substance of what follows next.

Holy Experiments

These are practices to try on your own interspersed within the reading. I hope that you will take time to engage practically with these exercises. Discovering our spiritual identity as God’s beloved demands more than using our imagination—it requires a relentless participation in actions designed to bring our minds and bodies into a vigorous interaction with the life-transforming Christ. Without this intentional partnership, the New Testament ideals surrounding our spiritual identity remain empty words on paper. Only those who take practical, down-to-earth measures to act with Christ know what it means to truly live as God’s beloved. As you enter into the suggested holy experiments spread throughout this book, your everyday life will come alive with God’s immediacy and power. There is space provided to write in these pages where it is needed. You may also want to use a journal to record your journey through these exercises.

Some of the chapters have several experiments. Take your time working through them. You may need more than a week to go through each chapter.

Following the Signpost Together

There are discussion questions designed to be used in a small group or with a spiritual friend or mentor. The questions assume that you have begun to engage with some of the issues and holy experiments discussed in the chapter you have just read. It is in sharing our experiences of the holy experiments that we will discover a more vital and real spirituality.

Reflection Questions

Here and there you will also find boxed questions, with space to write as needed. These questions give you an opportunity to pause and reflect on the material as you read.

In Closing

Over eighteen centuries ago, St Ireneaus penned this rather provocative sentence: “The glory of God is a human being fully alive.” Whatever else these words mean, this insight underlines what discovering our spiritual identity is all about. It is about aliveness—coming alive to the wonder of our belovedness in God’s eyes, discerning the depth and sacredness of ordinary life, alerting ourselves to the hidden tentacles of evil within and around us, becoming more aware of those closest to us, responding to the suffering of our neighbor. Above all, it is about waking up to the always available presence of the crucified and risen Christ, alive and at large throughout the world, who invites us to be his followers wherever we are. Should the Spirit of God breathe this aliveness into your everyday life, I will be deeply grateful.

1 Drawing a Picture of God

The Signpost

There is a picture of God drawn inside each of our hearts and minds. This picture, formed over the years through various influences, significantly shapes the way we live our daily lives. As we reflect on our ideas about God, we are invited to enter a redrawing process in which we gain a clearer view of who God truly is.

Holy Experiment

Knowing God through knowing Jesus

Reading

“What is your picture of God?”

The question surprised me. I was sitting in the plainly furnished study of a close friend and mentor. Over the years his listening presence, at critical moments in my own pilgrimage, had been a gracious gift. In the previous thirty minutes I had sought to describe those patterns of behavior that were leaving me bedraggled in spirit, weary in body and withdrawn in relationship. When I had finished speaking, he remained silent for a while, almost as if he were listening to his own heart. Then came the surprising question.

At first the question seemed unrelated and irrelevant to the concerns I had expressed. What did my view of God have to do with crowded days, an over-scheduled appointment book and strenuous efforts to achieve and accomplish? Surely, I thought to myself, all that was needed was some practical counsel regarding time management and realistic goal setting. However, the question communicated my companion’s clear conviction that the way we live is profoundly shaped by our picture of God.

William Temple, that great Anglican minister and spiritual leader, once rather provocatively observed that if people live with a wrong view of God, the more religious they become, the worse the consequences will be, and eventually it would be better for them to be atheists.

In each of our hearts and minds there is drawn our picture of God. Formed over the years through our interaction with parent figures, church representatives and our surrounding culture, it significantly influences the way we live our daily lives. Listening perceptively to the description of my drained condition, my friend had offered a spiritual diagnosis. My picture of God needed to be critically examined. There was a connection between my schedule, driven lifestyle and view of God.

For the first time in my life, I stopped to think about my image of God. Yes, I did feel that I needed to earn God’s grace. Yes, I did believe I had to achieve his affirmation. Yes, I did sense that God would withdraw his blessings if I did not measure up. Gradually it dawned on me that I had come to view God as a somewhat passive spectator, sitting in the balcony of my life, whose applause would only come in response to satisfactory performance. A dysfunctional picture of God, I was discovering, had expressed itself in a dysfunctional way of living.

When distortions creep into our picture of God, their negative effects reverberate throughout our lives. Consider some commonly held views of God, together with their usual consequences. Those who view God as an impersonal force tend toward a cold and vague relationship with him. Those who see God as a heavenly tyrant, intent on hammering anyone who wanders outside his laws, seldom abandon themselves with joy to the purposes of his kingdom. Those who imagine God to be a scrupulous bookkeeper, determined to maintain up-to-date accounts of every personal sin and shortcoming, rarely acknowledge their inner contradictions and struggles in his presence. Those who regard God as a divine candy machine (just say a prayer and you can get what you want) inevitably end up in disillusionment. Since, as author-philosopher Dallas Willard has pointed out, we live at the mercy of our ideas, we would be wise to reflect carefully on those that we have about God.

Our picture of God can be redrawn. It happened for Cardinal Basil Hume, archbishop of Westminster and well-known spiritual guide, and is illustrated in an amusing story he tells about himself. On a speaking tour of the United States, he shared how he had been raised by a good but severe mother. Constantly she would say to him, “If I see you, my son, stealing an apple from my pantry, I’ll punish you.” Then she would add quickly, “If you take an apple and I don’t see you, Almighty God will see you, and he will punish you.” It doesn’t take much imagination to catch a glimpse of the harsh picture of God these words sketched in young Basil’s mind! As his Christian experience matured however, his picture of God gradually changed. Eventually he had come to realize, the cardinal testified, that God might have said to him, “My son, why don’t you take two?”

God Is a Boundless Mystery

James Houston writes:

Awe encourages us to think of God as a transcendent presence: someone outside and beyond our own small concerns and our own vulnerable lives. Awe opens us up to the possibility of living always on the brink of mystery. Awe helps us to be truly alive, fully open to new possibilities we had not envisaged before.[1]

I invite you to begin immediately. For a few brief moments lay this book aside and ponder your current image of God. Try to be as honest as you can. Do you believe that God wants to relate with you personally and individually? Do you feel that God is for or against you? When life goes wrong, do you assume that God is punishing you? As you reflect on these questions, note any negative components in your God picture. Can you remember where these came from? How do these negative components affect your relationship with God and your life in his service?

This redrawing process begins in the scriptural affirmation that God is a boundless Mystery. This does not mean that he is a giant puzzle to be fathomed out. It simply means that there is no one else like him. When the word holy (meaning to be separate, to be different) is used to describe God, it indicates this sense of wholly otherness. Indeed, if ever we think that we have finally got God all worked out, then we can be sure that we are wrong. As a professor-friend would keep reminding me in my know-it-all student days: “Trevor, when you are in the presence of the real God you either shut up or fall on your face.”

We are often uncomfortable and uneasy in the presence of mystery. We struggle to be involved with an ungraspable God. We feel safer when faith is confined within dogmatic formulations and tidy theories. Then we can tame God, bring him under control and manage his workings in our world. But these attempts to control and manage cost us dearly. Our sense of wonder is exiled, our faith begins suffocating from thick layers of dull familiarity and easy answers, and our lives are emptied of surprise.

In any true picture of God there will always be room for mystery. Acknowledging God in this way gets us to take off our shoes in his presence. We begin living on tiptoe. Our lives are touched with a renewed sense of awe.

God Is Christlike

The bottom line of the Christian faith is the amazing claim that God has stepped into human history in the person of Jesus. In Jesus, God comes close and shows us his face. The boundless Mystery is not something vague and woolly, but Someone personal. Listen to Paul’s confident exclamation about Jesus in the midst of his carefully worded theological letter to the Colossians: “he is the image of the invisible God. . . . For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell” (Colossians 1:15, 19).

If we want to get our picture of God clearer, we must look in the direction of Jesus. Through word and deed, dying and rising, Jesus introduces us to what God is really like. In a famous remark, Archbishop Michael Ramsey teases out the staggering implications of this claim: “God is Christlike and in Him is no un-Christlikeness at all.”[2] Dare we take this seriously? Every idea and assumption that we have about God must be measured against the person of Jesus. If they are contradicted by what we have come to know about God through Jesus, they need to be relinquished. If not, then they can safely be included in our God picture.

This is what letter-writer John does when he puts forward his picture of God for our consideration. In the opening sentences of his first letter he reminds his readers that he writes from the perspective of one who had known the company of Jesus firsthand. On this basis he concludes a few chapters later that “God is love” (1 John 4:16). Notice that he does not say that God has love, but rather that God is love. This is the very essence of who the Holy One is: extravagantly, sacrificially, passionately loving. And since this is his essential nature, this is what God is always doing—loving you and me.

Popular Catholic writer John Powell illustrates from nature the meaning of this truth for our lives. He suggests that we compare God’s love to the sun. It is the nature of the sun always to give off warmth and light. The sun always shines, always radiates its warmth and light. There is no way in which the sun can act against its essential nature. Nor is there any way in which we can stop it from shining. We can allow its light to fill our senses and make us warm; alternatively, we can separate ourselves from its rays by putting up an umbrella or going indoors. But whatever we may do, we know that the sun itself does not change.[3]

In the same way, the God whom we see in Jesus always loves. Like the shining sun, his love never ceases. We have the freedom to open ourselves to this love and be transformed by it, or we can separate ourselves from it. But we cannot stop him from sending out continuously the warm rays of his love. At the heart of the boundless Mystery there is a blazing love that has created us, searches for us every moment and desires to bring us, along with all creation, into wholeness.

Jesus in Word and Deed

The words of Jesus direct us constantly toward this faithful divine Lover. Consider the parable of the prodigal son: here is God who is recklessly in love with you and me, forgiving us freely before we have properly repented and clothing us with gracious acceptance even before we have had our baths.

The deeds of Jesus wrap flesh around his words. Throughout his life he consistently reached out in friendship to those around him. In his company, people from all walks of life felt accepted and welcomed. Whether it was a well-to-do public official like Zacchaeus, lepers living in forced isolation or children simply wanting a lap to sit on, everyone seemed at home in his presence. These people contacts often took place around mealtimes, which, in the Middle East, was a particularly intimate form of association. South African theologian Albert Nolan, reflecting on the impact these mealtimes would have had on those who sat at table with Jesus, writes: “Because Jesus was looked upon as a man of God and a prophet, they would have interpreted his gesture of friendship as God’s approval of them. They were now acceptable to God.”[4]

While in these friendships and meal-sharing moments, Jesus lives out the Holy One’s all-inclusive love that enfolds each one of us, there is in his heart a distinctive sensitivity toward the most broken and vulnerable. Scan the Gospels and it becomes clear that Jesus invests a large percentage of his time in those who are suffering. Frequently he is to be found in the company of the sick, the mentally tormented, the poor and the marginalized. His example reminds me of the caring mother who, when asked by a friend which of her three children she loved most, replied that she loved them all equally. Her friend refused to accept this answer and pressed for an answer to her question. For a few seconds the mother became quiet and then firmly responded: “Okay, I love them all the same, but when one of them struggles and is in trouble, then my heart goes out to that child the most.”

Jesus Crucified

The dying Jesus takes us deeply into the sacred mystery of God’s passionate heart. Take some time to fix your eyes on this broken man nailed to the tree. Remember that he is the image of the invisible God, the One in whom God was pleased to dwell. The tortured, ravaged figure strips our talk about God’s love of its empty clichés and familiar sentimentality. As we stand at the foot of the cross we catch a glimpse of how God in Christ absorbs the very worst we can do, bears it sacrificially in his own body and then responds with life-giving forgiveness. The welcome-home scene of the wayward son is not too good to be true. It is as real as broken flesh and a pierced side.

Visitors to the Notre Dame chapel in Paris tell me that the front altar is flanked by two impressive statues. One is the statue of the “prodigal father” embracing his returning son. This is the story that Jesus told. The other statue is Mother Mary holding the figure of her crucified Son. This is the story that Jesus lived. The story that he lived convinces us that the story he told is true. We are the beloved sons and daughters of the Father. All is forgiven. We can come home.

Contemplate once more the crucified Christ figure hanging on the cross. Trying to comprehend the meaning of what we see stretches our capacity for understanding to its limits. God, we gradually realize, not only understands our pain, but shares it. The suffering God, nailed to the tree, participates in our suffering. It is this truth that keeps the light of faith flickering in the darkened hearts of the grieving, that renews hope in the oppressed, that empowers loving in hearts that have been betrayed and broken.

I have just learned this again from the spontaneous testimony of a courageous and grieving mother. As I write these paragraphs I’m leading a forty-eight-hour silent retreat for first-time retreatants. Moments ago I spent time listening to the prayer experience of this mother whose nineteen-year-old son died in a car accident. Her suffering is immeasurable and goes far beyond the comfort of the human word. She has been kneeling in a darkened chapel before a stark crucifix. She tells me simply, “I can face tomorrow. I know God knows and suffers with me.”

Jesus Risen and Alive

But the story of Jesus’ life is not yet over. On the third day his disciples and women friends find the tomb empty. Then follow the resurrection appearances through which Jesus demonstrates the death-defeating power of God’s love. The lives of the disciples are completely turned around. They realize that the love that Jesus proclaimed, the love that he lived, the love that he was, can never be defeated by the powers of evil and darkness. This is the key to understanding the message of the resurrection. Easter Sunday morning is a joyful celebration of the power of God’s love and its unquenchable capacity to bring life out of death.

Much testimony today is given to the “power of God.” Constantly the impression is created that whenever God’s power is at work, life works out successfully and prosperously. Reflecting on these testimonies, I sometimes wonder what these words mean for those who suffer—for the teenager dying of cancer, for the parents receiving the news that their newborn child is severely brain-damaged, for the families of the thousands of people murdered in our country every year. What do these words about God’s power communicate about the kind of God we worship, especially when those speaking often appear well dressed, well fed and well off? Clearly our understanding of God’s power requires biblical revision.

Look closely at the resurrection figure of Jesus in the Gospels. Notice that he continues to bear in his resurrected body the wounds of crucifixion. I am reminded of an ancient legend that describes how the devil tried to enter heaven by pretending to be the risen Christ. Accompanied by his throng of demons disguised as angels of light, he stood at the gates of heaven shouting aloud: “Lift up ye heads, O ye gates; and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in.” The angels of heaven responded with the refrain of the psalms: “Who is the King of glory?” Then the devil gave himself away. Opening his arms he answered: “I am.” In this act of arrogance he showed the angels his outstretched hands. There were no nail imprints. The angels of heaven refused to let him in.

Through those wounds written into his resurrection body, Jesus gives us an immeasurably rich symbol for glimpsing the ever-present power of God’s love. Plumbing its depths we see that suffering and evil are real, love often gets crucified, and people do get hurt. That is the non-negotiable reality of the world that we share. Nevertheless (and that is a good resurrection word), the strong love of God always has the final word. Nothing can hold it back from working out its purposes. Not only does the Holy One experience our suffering as though it were his own, he is also relentlessly seeking to bring light and life where there seems to be only darkness and death. When this happens for us, even in a small way, we experience a “little Easter.”

Holy Experiment

Knowing God Through Knowing Jesus

Write the word God below. Brainstorm your immediate responses to this word. Record all these under the word God. Now write the word Jesus on a sheet of paper. What immediate responses to this word do you have? Record them. Compare your lists and pray over them. What do you note about your image of God?

I recall a sudden reversal of all that I had hoped for in a vocational sense. For almost ten years I had cherished a dream of beginning a small missionary congregation within the inner city. However, after years of exploration it seemed best to those in my church’s hierarchy that permission not be granted for this endeavor. When I received the news, it was a painful moment. I felt that I had reached a kind of vocational cul-de-sac. Slowly I realized that I needed to relinquish an image of myself as a radical pioneer in congregational renewal. Simultaneously with this letting-go occurring there came a surprise opportunity for me to join a pastoral team that would give space in which I could foster people’s spirituality in individual and small group settings. For three years this is what I did, with a real sense of fulfillment. Looking back now I see this new vocational beginning as a little Easter.

When courage is given for the despairing heart to keep living through the pain, that is a little Easter. When listening friendship enables the timid and withdrawn soul to slowly open up, that is a little Easter. When inner pain causes the self-reliant and self-sufficient to ask for help from beyond themselves, that is a little Easter. When a forgiving spirit empowers an oppressed people to reconcile with their oppressors for the sake of building a new nation, such as we witnessed during our time of national transition in South Africa, that is a little Easter. Just about any time we are surprised with new possibilities for life and healing in the midst of brokenness and decay, there is a little Easter that gives us a glimpse of the resurrection power of God’s love made manifest in the crucified and risen Jesus.

I have come to learn that the God whose face I see in Jesus speaks to each one of us by name, and whispers, “You are loved just as you are. I am Abba, your heavenly parent, who welcomes you with open arms when you come home to me. Your presence is deeply desired at the family table of my friendship. When you hurt my other children through your actions and words I get angry, though my anger will never stop me from loving you. On the cross I died so that you would know the full extent of my offer of forgiveness. Your suffering is my suffering. Your grief is my grief. In your darkness and pain I want you to know that I’m constantly seeking to bring about for you another little Easter. This is how much I love you.” When our hearts and minds are touched by this great love we are ready to explore the adventure of the spiritual life.

Following the Signpost Together

Share the major negative components of your present God picture. Where were these learned in the past?

Michael Ramsey makes the statement that “God is Christ-like and in Him is no un-Christlikeness at all.” How do you respond to this comment?

What would it mean for you to begin redrawing your picture of God? How would this affect your everyday way of life?

When did you first become aware of God’s personal love for you?

When have you experienced “a little Easter”?

2 Discovering Who We Are

The Signpost

The search for identity threads its way throughout our lives. In this quest the incarnate Christ meets us right where we are. Throughout his earthly ministry, Jesus received his identity from the Father. The Beloved Son reveals to us our own belovedness, so that from this place of inner security we may invest ourselves in seeking God’s will and helping others discover how beloved they are.

Holy Experiment

The Beloved Charter

Relating to Others As Beloved

Reading

When the moment arrives to step down from active pastoring, I will be immensely grateful if, among the many whom I have pastored, there are a handful of men and women who say, “My pastor helped me to discover who I really am. He opened my eyes to my own infinite worth and immense potential as a dearly beloved child of God.”

This ministry focus finds its roots in my own testimony. For some reason, in my early adulthood days, I found it extremely difficult to accept that God delighted in me. I knew about God’s love in theoretical terms, but there seemed to be a yawning chasm between the knowledge in my head and the experience of my heart. However, a little miracle has been taking place within me. Knowing myself to be beloved of God is slowly becoming more than intellectual conviction; it is gently developing into the core truth of my everyday existence. This is the message I most want to communicate—the marvelous news that, at the heart of the universe, there is a divine Lover who longs for every one of us to wake up to the amazing truth of our belovedness.

I know well, from personal experience, the deadening effects of not knowing who and whose we are. When we are uncertain about our true identity, the inferiority disease spreads throughout our lives. We think thoughts and mouth phrases like: “I am no good.” “I can’t do anything right.” “I’m no use to anyone.” “I’ll never be able to do it.” “I can’t accept myself.” And the list goes on. We struggle to believe that God has unique purposes for our earthly sojourn and instead become paralyzed by a haunting sense of insignificance that leaves us feeling isolated. Little wonder that, when we see ourselves wrongly, we often end up in the muddy pit of worthlessness with its attendant despair.

In his searching autobiography, Frederick Buechner, the widely read American writer and respected Presbyterian pastor, illustrates movingly the life-destroying consequences that often occur when we feel worthless. One Saturday morning, as the sun was rising, Frederick and his brother, Jamie, woke up excited. Their parents had promised to take them to watch football. Since the rest of the family was still sleeping, the brothers decided to stay in their room and amuse themselves with an old roulette wheel. While they played together, they noticed their father quietly open the bedroom door and look in. After a while, he disappeared and closed the door behind him. Some time later, there was a piercing scream from downstairs. Looking out of their window, the boys saw their father lying outstretched on the gravel driveway. Blue smoke drifted from the open garage door into the crisp autumn day. Their father had gassed himself. Frederick Buechner writes:

It was not for several days that a note was found. It was written in pencil on the last page of Gone with the Wind, which had been published that year, 1936, and it was addressed to my mother. “I adore and love you,” it said, “and am no good. . . . Give Freddy my watch. Give Jamie my pearl pin. I give you all my love.”[1]

As a pastor, discovering what it means to be unconditionally loved, I want to help others expose the phrase “I am no good” as a cruel and vicious lie.

Alternatively, in our uncertainty about our identity, we go to the opposite extreme. We climb lofty pedestals and manufacture glittering façades of ourselves as successful, competent and adequate. Behind these masks we hide our feelings of vulnerability and inadequacy. Nothing scares us more than public failure or weakness. We over-identify with our strengths, struggle to accept any limitation and believe that we can do all things. People around us, especially those with whom we have close contact, complain that they do not feel close to us. They tell us we are aloof, distant and cold. The pedestal, we find out, becomes a very lonely place.

Men, especially, are prone to climb pedestals. When asked to address a men’s breakfast gathering on a subject of my own choice. I decided on the title “The Subject Men Don’t Talk About,” and took as my text the words of Paul, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). For just under forty-five minutes I explored the various ways in which we try to cover up our weaknesses and wounds. I was struck by the quiet attentiveness of the men. Afterward, an outwardly confident and well-dressed young man strode up to the speaker’s podium and said with a smile, “You’ve been reading my mail. Can we get together sometime to talk?”

The two extremes seem worlds apart, yet both are expressions of self-rejection and bring tragic consequences to our relationship with the Holy One. Invited to be the beloved sons and daughters of Abba Father, we fall prey to deceiving voices that tell lies and half-truths about who we are. Believing these untruths, we adopt patterns of living that impoverish the soul, cripple relationships and block the glory of God from shining through us. Lost among the many who wander along this well-traveled road, we fail to stand apart from the crowd and become our own person—the person God intends us to be. Tragically, we miss the mark that God sets for our lives.

Our Search for Identity

Given the crucial importance of knowing who we are, it is not surprising that the identity quest threads its way throughout our lives. Usually we search for answers in any one of three possible directions: looking inward, looking toward others and looking toward achievement.

Looking inward. Some people embark on a lengthy inward journey, often with the skilled help of a trained counselor or therapist. Along this therapeutic route we seek the truth of our identity within, and often end up defining ourselves solely in categories of temperament and personality, or perhaps more negatively in terms of personal addictions and conflicts. While the psychological labels we use to describe ourselves may give certain comfort, they do not reveal the full story about who we are.

In saying this, I do not wish to negate the critical importance of looking within. Without getting to know ourselves and where we have come from, it is doubtful whether we will grow toward fuller personal maturity. Nor do I wish to downplay the valuable insights that modern psychology can provide in helping our progression in the godly challenge of self-knowledge. I have received immense benefit from speaking with those who are professionally trained to accompany people on their inner journeys. I simply believe that a purely inward, psychological approach diminishes the unfathomable mystery of who we truly are.

Looking toward others. Our sense of who we are can become determined by whatever family or friends or colleagues say about us. Whenever this happens, our lives can degenerate into a series of desperate attempts to please, to perform and to be popular. While others certainly play a significant part in what makes you you and me me the cost of conforming to their expectations and scripts can be great. We fail to find our own voice, live a secondhand existence and in the end forfeit our true identity. Moreover, we end up living on an emotional seesaw: when others speak well of us we are up, and when they don’t we are down.

I am not offering cold clinical observations; I am also confessing. Too often in my work as a pastor I have looked toward others to validate my own personal worth. This tendency renders me vulnerable to that hazardous temptation of trying to be all things to all people. Succumbing, as I frequently do, suffocates the spirit, thins the soul and wearies the body. I find myself disconnected from my depths, living from the outside in and breathlessly running around trying to meet impossible expectations. In these moments of estrangement and tiredness, my own spiritual abyss looms dangerously close.

Where do you look for your sense of identity? Thinking about the way we live usually yields crucial clues about our answers. Reflect for a few moments on your everyday conversations and activities: 

Do you sometimes reduce the profound mystery of who you are to a psychological label? Is the way you think and act controlled by the approval and disapproval of those around you? Are you constantly preoccupied with the pursuit of success, with the desire to achieve greater status and position?

The time used to uncover answers to these questions would be well spent. Your reflections may help to clarify the basis of your present identity.

Looking toward achievement. It is often said of someone clearly intent on climbing the success ladder, “That person is really trying to make a name for himself!” Readily we assume automatic relationship between accomplishment and an inner assurance of significance. However, this connection cannot be accepted uncritically. For what happens when you fail, or find yourself in a position where you are no longer able to achieve? And what do you say to a person who experiences only inward emptiness upon an occasion of outstanding success?

Certainly, peak moments of attainment must be celebrated—receiving a long-awaited promotion, completing a university degree, winning an important match, securing a carefully planned business deal. These special times need to be savored. Still, there is a critical difference between striving to achieve “to make a name for oneself” and the kind of carefree achievement characteristic of someone already secure in who they are. Accomplishments and achievements are an integral part of the fulfilled life, but they need to flow from a personal center already assured of its identity; otherwise experiences such as unemployment, retrenchment, retirement and forced rest, when they come, will devastate us.

Jesus’ Identity

In our quest for identity, the crucified and risen Christ meets us right where we are. Like us, he also needed to know who he was. He was not immune to the human quest for identity. Reflecting on the insistence of the four Gospels in this regard, Anglican theologian Thomas Smail observes: “Jesus needed, not once, but again and again at each stage of his mission and each crisis in his living and dying, a freshly confirmed knowledge of his own identity.”[2] However, in stark contrast to ourselves, when Jesus needed to know who he was, he listened to his Father’s voice, trusted that voice and claimed its truth for his own life.

Recall that decisive moment when Jesus is baptized in the River Jordan by his cousin John. Thirty formative years of hidden preparation have come to an end; his public ministry is about to begin. As Jesus emerges from the water, he hears a voice from heaven. Gospel writers Matthew, Mark and Luke all draw our attention to what he hears:

This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased. (Matthew 3:17)

You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased. (Mark 1:11)

You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased. (Luke 3:22)

The point is clear: Jesus receives his identity from beyond himself; he is the Beloved of God upon whom the delight and the Spirit of the Father rest.

Aware of his belovedness, Jesus sets forth to accomplish the will of his Father. However, his sense of identity requires both subsequent confirmation from beyond and ongoing affirmation from himself. Confirmation comes in the mountaintop transfiguration encounter; speaking from the cloud, in familiar words that echo those spoken at his baptism, the Father assures Jesus of his belovedness (see Matthew 17:5). Days later, in the darkness of Calvary, Jesus receives strength in personally affirming his relationship with Abba. “Father,” he cries out loudly, “into your hands I commend my spirit” (Luke 23:46).

Throughout his earthly ministry, Jesus finds his identity and confidence in his relationship with Abba Father. Little wonder that when the evil one attempts to thwart Jesus’ ministry, the starting point of attack is the casting of doubt upon his identity as the beloved: “The devil said to him, ‘If you are the Son of God . . .’” (Luke 4:3).

Jesus underlines how important it is for us to know who we are. Because of his inward assurance that he is the Beloved of God, he is consistently his own person, able to pour himself out in extravagant self-giving, and is finally free to lay his life down in complete self-surrender upon the cross. Secure in his interactive relationship with Abba Father, he resists the wilderness temptations to forge an identity based on the illusions of success, popularity or power. Not once throughout his life does he need to prove himself, win the approval of contemporaries or be involved in any manipulative power games. Knowing who he is, Jesus invests himself single-mindedly in the realization of his Father’s kingdom vision for our broken world.

Beloved of God

But, do I hear you wondering, how do these past events connect with my own struggle for identity?