How do you relate
to God?
written by Philip Yancey
Figuring out how you're wired can help you grow spiritually.
NOT LONG AGO, I broke my wrist. It was a serious break, requiring surgery. Because I
needed so much help, my wife, Lisa, and I had to do almost everything together. We shopped
together. We answered e-mail together (initially, I couldn't type). For a while, Lisa even
helped me get dressed.
(Okay, you try tying your shoe with one hand!) As a result of all this togetherness, Lisa
and I discovered a deeper love that had been buried under our typical routine.
I've found we often face the same dilemma in our walk with God: We fall into a
rut. Our devotions seem like nothing more than a shadow what we've done for years. We've
been in the same ministry for so long, we could practically do it in our sleep. And nobody
in our church small group or Bible study has had an original thought for years! Finally,
one day we wake up and wonder, is this all there is to knowing God?
If you're in a spiritual malaise, you may need a change in your spiritual diet. The goal
isn't "self-actualization," but to learn how to connect with God in a way that's
best suited for you. Most of us naturally have a certain predisposition for the way we
relate to God--a "spiritual temperament." Check
out the following five to see which ones apply to you.
1. The Nature-Lover. One wintery Christmas Eve, I escaped for a walk through some woods.
The woods broke into a clearing, and as I pulled my coat tighter, cold gusts of wind blew
around me, then suddenly burst forth into snow. My heart nearly stopped as I was overcome
by the snow's sheer beauty. While it only lasted a couple minutes, those priceless moments
did
more to draw me into a remembrance and worship of the Christ Child than did weeks in
shopping malls, post offices, and gaudily decorated rooms.
I'll give up the artificial glare of an overhead projector in a church's sanctuary for the
sun's light peeking over a rise any day. I'd prefer to leave any building, however
beautiful or austere, to pray to God beside a river. That's where I connect best with God
(see Psalm 23). If you feel as though
your time reading devotional books or listening to sermons has become stagnant, grab a
coat, pick up a walking stick, and step outside into a school
that
Jesus often taught in the countryside, and he very well may have been pointing
to images as he taught. Romans 1:20 tells us that God speaks to us through creation if
we'll only listen. Beware, however, of the heresy of pantheism--the belief that creation
is the same as the Creator. Let the Holy Spirit's guidance and the Bible be your only sure
guide to test any spiritual "insights" drawn from nature.
2. The Activist. Some years ago, a local Christian activist circulated a list of all the
ungodly language used in the movie Back to the Future. As one of the leaders in a national
network, I received his information packet.
That guy should really get a life, I thought. Of all the movies to attack!
I had lunch with him after that. He told me, "I went to several pastors and asked
them if they'd seen Back to the Future. `Sure,' they said. `I took my kids to see it.'
"`Okay, could I have one minute during your worship service this week to read this
list of words out loud? It shouldn't take more than a minute.'
"`There's absolutely no way I'd let you do that,' the pastors said."
This man's face grew grave as he looked me in the eyes and said, "I told them, `How
could you take your kids to hear filth you wouldn't let your adult congregation
hear!'"
I hadn't taken my children to see that movie, but I left that lunch convicted.
This activist was responsible for ridding a good part of northern Virginia
from certain types of pornography, and he's had a major role in encouraging
the church to take a more active part opposing abortion. I needed to hear what
he had to say.
An activist feels the most strongly connected to God when she serves a God of
justice, and her favorite Scripture is often the account of Jesus cleansing
the Temple (Mark 11:12-17). She defines worship as taking a stand against
evil, and often views the church as a place to recharge her batteries so she can go back
into the world to wage war against injustice. If you're an activist, you'll find your
relationship to God energized more by interaction with others, even in conflict, than by
being alone or in small groups. But
remember, a self-righteous, critical attitude isn't a reflection of Christ's compassion
and teaching on passing judgment (Matthew 7:1-5).
3. The Caregiver. A campus ministry intern lived in an apartment building I managed when I
was in seminary. Two deeply troubled men moved in next door to him, and several nights a
week, the intern would find one of his neighbors mumbling unintelligibly or passed out in
the hallway. He'd pick them up, pack them into his car, and take them to the
detoxification center.
When the intern finally received a call to work out-of-state, he told the good
news to his neighbors. "Hey," they said, "who's gonna take us to detox when
we
mess up?"
A caregiver relates to God by serving others. Whereas caring for others might
wear many of us down, it recharges a caregiver's batteries! Perhaps the supreme example of
this temperament is Mother Teresa of Calcutta. But you needn't limit your definition of
caregiving to nursing sick people. The caregiver temperament incorporates many different
avenues of loving God through serving others--sitting by an elderly person's bed,
counseling at a
crisis pregnancy center, helping somebody reconfigure her computer system, or
watching the children of some tired parents. A caregiver's comforted by Jesus' words:
"Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for
me" (Matthew 25:40).
Some people with low self-worth feel a need to serve others to validate
their existence. Caregiving as a temperament means we express our love to God by reaching
out to others; caregiving as a disease is actually an act of loving others so they'll need
us in return.
4. The Ascetic. It was a clear night; I held my recently fussy daughter in my arms,
rocking her gently, looking out at the still neighborhood. In the deep of the night,
there's a stillness, an expectancy, a sense of waiting for the dawn to break open and
overtake the darkness. Long after my daughter had drifted off to sleep, I wanted to stay
awake and pray.
An ascetic--someone who finds discipline, austerity, simplicity, and solitude awaken her
soul to God's presence--typically revels in the practice of quiet worship. Yet most of us
don't experience solitude except when a sick child forces us to be up late (or early).
However, some Christians have found the
middle of the night to be one of their best times for quiet prayer and worship.
message
boards
;)
;)
;)
;)
;)
;)
;)