The Fencepost

With about a month remaining in my Spiritual Formation and Development class through Temple Baptist Seminary, I must say I’ve learned a lot. I’m embarrassed that an early knee-jerk reaction to this subject almost led me to drop the class. But the professor was kind enough to call me personally to explain why he thought that would be a mistake. Thankfully, the man was correct. I’m better off in many respects for having familiarized myself with Spiritual Formation and its impact on the Evangelical church today. These are my thoughts, which will comprise much of my upcoming book reviews for the class and assessment paper on the subject as a whole. I’ll get to the reason for my near-abandonment of the class shortly.

Our two texts are Celebration of Discipline: The Path to Spiritual Growth, by Richard Foster, and Spiritual Disciplines for the Christian Life, by Donald Whitney. I admit my ignorance of this subject prior to the course, but now I’m having what I sometimes refer to as “stroller syndrome.” A married couple who have their first baby suddenly notice strollers everywhere, when really they were there all along. But having a baby in their once-babyless world opens their eyes to baby reality. So, that’s how it is with me and Spiritual Formation. I now encounter the subject almost everywhere I look, when it was probably in front of my face the whole time.

You see, Foster in particular is a pretty big deal, it turns out. He wrote “Celebration” in the 1970s and has issued two updates in subsequent decades. The book’s endorsements are many and feature well-known names in Evangelicalism. He’s the founder of the Renovaré Spiritual Formation organization and continues to lecture and write prolifically. Whitney’s book was a 1991 product and is lesser known outside of Baptist circles. The edition I have shows no update references. He is a Southern Baptist pastor and seminary professor who has established a Spiritual Formation curriculum that many seminaries use today.

While I waited for these books to arrive at my home last January I decided to check Foster out at the LifeWay library. I skimmed the 1980s edition of the book they have on the shelf. What I found there sent my discernment bells going off in full-alert mode. I immediately wrote to Temple’s registrar to ask that they remove me from the class roll and refund my tuition. Not 30 minutes later the professor called me to explain that Temple does not teach this class because they affirm the tenets of Spiritual Formation. Rather they offer it as a means of Bible-based analysis and awareness. Relieved, I remained in the class. It’s been an excellent exercise in measuring both Foster and Whitney in light of the Bible. I have yet to finish Whitney’s book, but Foster’s is done. It’s been difficult reading it with an objective eye after my initial reaction, but I think I’ve managed to form a solid opinion based on a careful critique. I’ve also read extensively from both critics and proponents of Foster and Spiritual Formation. Therefore, what I have to say comes from my own thoughts as well as the measured valuation of those I trust.

Essentially, I cannot recommend the practices of Spiritual Formation as they are understood and implemented in the church at large to any professing Evangelical or Reform believer in Christ. This is not an easy thing to say, because one might erroneously assume I am against the more orthodox practices Foster promotes – Bible study, prayer, service, fasting, and worship, to name a few. These are fundamental and biblically expected behaviors in the life of both believer and church body, and so the tendency might be to think Foster’s use of the terms must be biblically sound. In a few cases in his book, they are indeed. Yet Foster’s approach to basic Christian practice is intertwined with so much error I cannot see how anyone could successfully extricate them redemptively aside from a wholesale rejection in favor of biblical models. There are plenty of good theological books on Bible study, prayer, service, fasting, and worship. Read them. Learn from them. But do not assume Foster is a reliable source on them. Allow me to explain why I say that.

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Sometimes God allows a confluence of experiences to form a whole realization. Wow, that really sounded New Age, didn’t it? What I mean is God causes two events or occasions in life to come together in a way that helps highlight a greater truth. If you were Carl Jung or Sting, you might call that “synchronicity.” If you were me you’d simply call it, “Cool.”

A day working from home meant a chance for a rare run in the gorgeous spring weather of late. Because Bev and I will attend the 2010 Together for the Gospel Conference next week in Louisville (Can I tell you how excited I am? No? All righty.) I’ve been listening up on the past two T4G event lectures from Piper, Sproul, MacArthur, Mahaney, Anyabwile, and other preacher/rock stars from whom I will be soaking up as much wisdom as my brain and heart can hold. Today’s run called for Ligon Duncan and a little chat on the problems with adding to the gospel. Some people like music when they work out. Me, I jam on a little theology.

As I ran in the sunshine and a stiff south wind. Duncan expositing in my ears, I marveled at the beauty of the trees in our neighborhood. Right now the pears, cherries, and redbuds are at their peak, exploding with color in their annual praise to God for His renewal of all things. As I rounded a corner after the first lap on a four-street circuit, Duncan began speaking about the good that many Christians do in the name of the gospel, but at the expense of the gospel itself. The tendency in the church is to assume that the implications of the gospel, he claimed, are themselves the gospel. This is a dangerous logical fallacy, for it elevates the works we do to advance the good news to the level of – perhaps even above – the saving power of Christ through the Word.

The impact of these words thudded into my brain as the spring breeze whistled through my earphones. Hundreds of tiny flower petals swirled on the pavement at my feet. So many trees! In our town Bradford pears are as common as minivans. There’s one in almost every yard. Ornamental and weeping cherries are common too, as are southern redbuds – my personal favorite. I read in a gardening book that Bradfords are the most widely planted tree in the south. Not a few enthusiasts dislike these trees. In fact, unless my recollection is wrong, there is a gardening group somewhere that calls itself the Bradford Pear Eradication Society.

Why the vehemence? Well, anything done too much is a target for criticism. Why does every yard have to look the same? Also, Bradfords have this bad habit of splitting in two once they get to a certain size. They only have a 40-year lifespan on average. Compare that to the stately oaks that have lived alongside some neighborhoods for a century or more. In my neighborhood there are two rows of these pear trees that line either side of the main entrance. Our homeowner’s association recently announced that part of our annual fees will be going to replace them. They’re only nine years old.

It’s sad. Those beautiful trees, laden with white blossoms, will soon be gone. I finished the final lap of my run and headed for home, thinking of the necessity we in the church must feel toward preserving the purity of the gospel message. There are so many competing voices and efforts in Evangelicalism that promote themselves as an avenue to the truth. But what impact do they really have? If so many people are hearing a watered-down or even false gospel, how many of them are truly coming into God’s kingdom? How much fruit is really being born?

Fruit. Pear trees produce fruit. So do cherry trees. Delicious, ripe fruit that nourishes the body and satisfies the taste. The outward sign of life in the tree, the result of energy and transformation combining the chemical and the seemingly miraculous. Except… not when the trees are merely ornamental. The Bradfords and cherries around here produce something – some useless offal of their annual floral pollination. It does little more than litter our lawns and clog our mowers. It’s fruit, but it’s not something to celebrate. These trees are just for show, you see. We don’t expect them to nourish us. They’re pretty shells of their agricultural cousins, all style and no substance.

I returned home, the sweat of a good workout dripping down my face and a passion for the pure gospel pulsating in my heart. Hunger gripped me as my cardiovascular system slowed. I needed something cold, refreshing, immediate. Opening the refrigerator I saw a drawer full of organic Cameo apples that I picked up at Kroger this week. They were the cheapest ones in the store, can you believe that? The first bite of an apple is the best – sharp, cold, bursting with flavor and life. I sure am thankful for good fruit – and the good trees that grow it.

Spend enough time as a Christian – one committed to proclaiming the true gospel of Jesus Christ – and eventually you’ll make someone angry. Many times that someone will be an unbeliever. More often than not it ends up being a family member or close friend who is shocked or saddened by your sudden religious fervor. Unfortunately, because the Bible is so cherished and revered in the Church, we sometimes hold onto a particular interpretation at the expense of friendship between ourselves and other believers.

When I began devoting myself to serious Bible and theological study about two years ago I quickly noticed that the teachers and theologians most committed to proper interpretation were the ones most often criticized by and within the church. It occurred to me that should I take a similar stance there would come a day that I’d be the target of anger or misunderstanding from a fellow believer. That day came yesterday.

A friend from a former church home, who is also a Grammy-winning recording artist, is active in the social-media sphere. For several years I was inspired weekly by his worship leading and exhortation from the pulpit. My conversations with him were always uplifting and spiritually nourishing. He never failed to encourage the use of my gifts and talents for the church body. He always led and served with godliness and humility. So please understand what I’m about to share does not reflect on my personal opinion about this man. It’s simply an analysis of an exchange from a biblical perspective. I’ve chosen to keep his identity as invisible as possible so that we can concentrate on the nature of our exchange rather than on the person.

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A Twitter friend last week linked to a job opening with Compassion in Colorado Springs. It had something to do with internal web communications, and may be the same position one of their employees held before he was trapped – and then rescued – in the Haiti earthquake wreckage. The job sounded interesting enough. Maybe something I’d be interested myself if I was out of a job and living in Colorado. But it wasn’t the job per se that caught my eye.

In the usual list of job functions, the following entry was first in the bullet-pointed list: “Maintain a personal relationship with Jesus Christ.” At first glance that sounds like a reasonable function expected from an employee in one of the largest and best-known Christian charities. Why would they hire someone who didn’t have “a relationship” with Jesus when the slogan of their company is “Releasing children from poverty in Jesus’ name”?

Scanning down to the job qualification list, “Has a personal relationship with Jesus Christ” made the top entry. Well, again, that makes perfect sense. Compassion wants people to personally know the Savior as a prerequisite for hiring, and then to maintain that relationship as a function of their employment. We get it.

Except there’s this: The company makes no effort in the job listing to define exactly how one “maintains” a relationship with the second person of the Trinity. It simply lists it as their first – and by inference most important – expectation of whomever lands the job. Most Christians will look at this statement and automatically think something like, “Oh, I know what they mean. Pray every day, have your ‘quiet time,’ read your Bible, do good works, serve in your church. That kind of stuff.” If as a Christian I were asked to compile my own such “maintenance” list it would probably look a lot like that.

That does nothing to assuage the nagging feeling in my stomach when I read the requirement in the job posting. My question, thus, is: Can we know for certain that any of those actions – any combination of them, or all of them together – do anything to maintain our relationship with Jesus? Where the Bible speaks about what are commonly known as “spiritual disciplines” in modern Christianity, does it confirm that they keep our relationship with Christ going in a positive direction. I am in no way disparaging the value of these practices. We should regularly engage in them. But what value do they have in living up to the posted requirement?

When I think about things like this my mind immediately goes to the following Scriptures

• “For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 1:6)
• “So then, my beloved, just as you have always obeyed, not as in my presence only, but now much more in my absence, work out your salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure.” (Philippians 2:12–13)
• “For those whom He foreknew, He also predestined to become conformed to the image of His Son, so that He would be the firstborn among many brethren; and these whom He predestined, He also called; and these whom He called, He also justified; and these whom He justified, He also glorified.”
  (Romans 8:29–30 NAS95)

What I see here are confirmations that it’s God, through the Holy Spirit, who maintains our relationship with Jesus Christ. If I thought for one moment that my inconsistency in spiritual discipline would forfeit that relationship I would have no further reason to place my faith in God’s Word. Certainly my occasional apathy and lack of focus slows my spiritual growth. My sin can even bring it to a screeching halt. Is that what Compassion would define as a failure to maintain the relationship?

Not only should this organization define how one maintains such a relationship, but it should also explain to every incoming new employee how they will monitor the progress of such maintenance. That’s the only way to fairly implement this job requirement.

What do you think? How are you doing at maintaining your relationship with Jesus Christ? Or do you think you’re even capable of doing that? Can you support your argument from Scripture?