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There is something alluring about an oxymoron. That opposing interests could be accommodated in a single notion seems to catch us off guard in a pleasing sort of way. It may even make us laugh. ‘Good grief,’ ‘act natural,’ ‘Dodge Ram’- we chuckle at the incongruity of such disperance. Yet it may be that in such contrary combinations we find the most helpful wisdom as we seek to fulfill the longing within us.
Prominent among the oxymorons prevalent in contemporary Christianity is the intriguing concept of ‘spiritual discipline.’ What does one make of this connection between that which is spiritual, which is to say immaterial, and that which is disciplined, which is to say physical. Unlike some oxymorons which struggle only in the semantics, this curious mixture of spirituality and discipline perplexes everyday believers who struggle to know how to apply discipline to something so frustratingly intangible as the state of their soul. Is spiritual formation a material or immaterial process? Does it have to do with the body or does it have to do with the soul? Will it lead to legalism or will it lead to irrelevance? Is it something that we do, or something that God does?
It is difficult for Christians to keep these things straight. To ‘be spiritual’ suggests some sort of disembodied flight into transcendence. ‘Spiritual people’ somehow drive on different highways, speaking in exalted codes that other more earthly minded believers cannot understand and seldom experience.
To ‘be disciplined,’ on the other hand, describes the earth-bound struggle to master one’s physical appetites. Disciplined people are serious about duty. They are determined to wrestle their body to the ground and make it say ‘uncle.’
Christian history has room for both stereotypes. On the one hand we picture white robed elitists, ‘so heavenly minded they are no earthly good.’ On the other hand we imagine darkly clad fundamentalists, soberly fighting the flesh with legalistic fervor. Less pejoratively, we see closed eyed worshippers swaying unconsciously as they listen to the Spirit, and we see serious minded prayer warriors, wearing out their knees before the sun begins to shine.
‘Spiritual discipline’ describes the oxymoronic attempt to integrate these two concerns. The concept engages the hoary battle with Platonic dualism, daring to suggest that the pursuit of the Spirit ought to have physical dimensions.
What does it mean to be Spiritual?
Spirituality is hot. Disappointed by scientific promise, and distrustful of traditional perspectives, people are investing in all things spiritual. An internet search of the word ‘spirituality’ presents a plethora of possibilities from Shamanism to Shintoism, kabbalah to Kama Sutra, Torah to tarot. There seems no limit to the contemporary desire to connect with the Other by means of eclectic combinations of ancient mystery and contemporary marketing. Clearly, people are ‘getting in touch with their spiritual side.’
Christians also are rediscovering obscure sources in medieval monasticism and mainline mysticism, searching for the wisdom that could energize their sagging souls. Theresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, and Thomas Merton are receiving a posthumous renaissance that would have made them rich if they had stayed alive long enough to enjoy the royalties. Christians are exploring meditation and fasting, seeking ways to deepen their experience of God and turbo charge their prayer lives.
Yet, in all of this activity, it is possible that we have missed the point. To ‘be spiritual’ is, in fact, to acknowledge that we are more than material. It is to affirm that we have been created with a soul that requires nurture and sustenance. Ultimately, however, the deep need of the human spirit is to connect with God’s Spirit. Our soul finds satisfaction in relationship with God.
This spiritual satisfaction is what God does. We are not capable of meeting our own need. The standard is beyond the limits of our discipline. We commonly believe that ‘if we can be good, God will be gracious.’ In fact, the truth is just the opposite. ‘God will be gracious, therefore we will be good.’ To be spiritual is not to uncover a secret or to learn a new ritual. To be spiritual is to submit to God’s mercy and to find salvation by his grace.
Ultimately, the spiritual side of ‘spiritual discipline’ speaks to our identity. We who have been redeemed by God’s grace belong to Christ. We are a new creation, indwelt by God’s Spirit and stamped with his imprint. We do not belong to the world. We belong to Jesus Christ because of his sacrifice for us. We are not simply intrigued by the notion that there might be more to us than our physical, temporal body. We are profoundly renewed at the most fundamental core of who we are. To be in the Spirit is to be in Christ.
What does it mean to be disciplined?
Discipline is a frightening prospect to believers familiar with stories of desert fathers perching on pole tops with flies for friends. Christian history is riddled with examples of flagellating fanatics and moldy monastics. Discipline sounds like radicalism. It appears as an abridgment of freedom and a reprise of the law.
Such a perspective appeals to those who have grown weary of the free-wheeling spirit of the age. Discipline sounds good to those who fear the antinomian anarchy of the present time. Yet while legal restraint might seem welcome to some, it seems worrisome to others. Legalism strikes fear in the heart of those who have welcomed and been welcomed by the grand offer of God’s grace.
It must be said, then, that biblical discipline is not a return to the strictures of the law. Discipline does not affect identity. Discipline is not a ‘spiritual’ issue in that sense. It does not affect the necessary transition from death to life – from condemnation to redemption. One cannot act oneself into relationship with Christ. Discipline is not the attempt to be good so that God will be gracious. It is the appreciation that because God has been gracious we can be good. Discipline does not determine one’s destiny. It is the resulting exhibition of one’s core identity in the domains of life.
Discipline describes the activity of a disciple. It is the intentional pursuit of a lifestyle that is congruent with that of the Master model. It is thinking, feeling, and acting consistently with what is true of us at the core. While connection with God’s Spirit is what God does by his grace. Discipline is what the believer does because of God’s grace. One does not pursue discipline in order to receive grace. One develops discipline as a response to God’s grace.
Discipline is an issue of likeness. A disciple of the world will live like the world, pursuing the interests of the world. A disciple of Christ will be like Christ. He will make intentional choices that are consistent with his identity as one who belongs to the Savior. Discipline, then, is choosing to be proactive about developing patterns of thought, feelings, and deeds that will be consistent with the individual’s primary commitment to Jesus Christ. The classic disciplines of the Christian faith such as prayer, meditation, service, and abstinence, serve as the instruments by which Christian character is developed and deployed. The disciplines provide the tool by which belongers can display the family likeness.
What does it mean to preach spiritual discipline?
The task of the preacher is to encourage the oxymoronic integration of these dual concerns. Preaching that integrates will respect the integrity of both aspects of the equation, but will be sure to place them in the correct order. Identity must be established before likeness. Spirit before discipline.
The preacher first encourages an identity transformation that breaks the listener’s belonging to the world and leads them to a new identity as one belonging to Christ. Second, the preacher must encourage a transformation of likeness in order to create congruency with what is newly established. Any alternative is seriously disatisfying.
There are four variations possible within this rubric, three of which fall short of the Divine intention.
First is the disciple of the world. This person is unregenerate. This person belongs to the world and not to Christ. As such he or she iscontent to live like the world. The world is this person’s oyster, which is to say it is his or her master. This is an ugly path leading to a desperate and certain outcome. The most charitable thing one could say about this person is that at least he or she is consistent.
Second is the worldly hypocrite. This person does not belong to Christ but wants to live like Christ. He or she might not be able to self diagnose the problem. Such a person would probably style him or herself simply as a good person. This person has a strong moral sense without any real spiritual connection to the God of all righteousness.
The third possibility is the Christian hypocrite. A favorite target, this person has an authentic connection to God through Christ, but is trying to live like the world. Their future is settled as one who is in Christ yet their lifestyle betrays their core identity. This person, while spiritually secure, forfeits the joy and passion inherent in a life devoted to Christ.
The final possibility is the disciple of Christ. This person belongs to Christ and lives like Christ. She has settled her future as one redeemed by grace and she wants to live in ways that are congruent with her fundamental identity. God has been gracious to her so she will be good. She will live ‘the good life’ not as defined by the world, but as defined by the ‘Good Teacher.’ This person appreciates the truth articulated by Paul in his masterwork to the Romans, ‘We died to sin. Why should we live in it any longer?’(Romans 6:2).
The task of the preacher is, in fact, defined within the book of Romans. The first eleven chapters describe the spiritual need of all humanity. Lost in sin and estranged from God, humanity requires a solution bigger than its own resources. Wonderfully, God provides that solution by the grace made available in Jesus Christ. It is a grand, glorious provision leaving its recipients weak kneed in wonder and knee deep in glory. Clearly it requires response.
Romans 12:1,2 suggests that response. ‘In view of God’s mercy,’ Paul says, and because God has been gracious to you, ‘offer your bodies as living sacrifices.’ This physical discipline ‘is your spiritual act of worship.’ ‘Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.’ Discipline, in Paul’s presentation is the believer’s worship. It is the critical response of the regenerate. It is congruence with Christ rather than conformity to the world. It is activity that leads to life as opposed to the zombified motions of the living dead. It is truly, the fruit of the Spirit.
This perspective is valuable to Christians accustomed to fear of spiritual failure and plagued with discipline guilt. The hackneyed sermon illustration about the two dogs who are at war with one another is damaging to such believers. “Who will win the war between the two dogs?” asks the preacher. “Whichever one we feed the most,” is the ill-advised answer. In fact, this battle is literally ‘no contest.’ Feeding our soul (discipline) has no impact on our spiritual identity. Who we are is settled forever in Christ. Even undisciplined believers are still redeemed.
Still, as Dallas Willard points out, discipleship is the only true option for one who belongs to Christ. Anything else is a perversion of God’s intention. Starving the Spirit is barely conceivable if we are truly acquainted with grace. As Willard puts it,
The disciple of Jesus is not the deluxe or heavy-duty model of the Christian – especially padded, textured, streamlined, and empowered for the fast lane on the straight and narrow way. He stands on the pages of the New Testament as the first level of basic transportation in the Kingdom of God (Willard, The Spirit of the Disciplines, 1988, p.258).
Essentially, those who belong to Christ are obligated to live like Christ.
C.S. Lewis described the attitude of many Christians who see disciplined obedience as akin to paying taxes. In this model, God is like the government which requires a certain level of taxation for the smooth operation of the kingdom. Having paid their spiritual taxes, these believers feel themselves free to pursue their own self interests. The inadequacy of this perspective ought to be evident to those who belong to Christ. Discipline is not drudgery for such a disciple. No one finds pleasure in paying taxes. Discipline, on the other hand, can be a joy.
Spiritual discipline involves close communion with our creator. It involves the provision of blessing to others in need. It provokes insight, lessens dependence, and encourages a right perspective on the challenges of life. Sustained discipline encourages progress toward holiness to the point where Christlikeness – the fruit of the Spirit – can become the default setting for one’s life.
If ‘spiritual discipline’ is an oxymoron, it is in the best sense of the word. Preaching encourages both spiritual conversion and disciplined congruence. Perhaps this is the kind of spirituality Jesus had in mind when he sent his followers into all the world to ‘make disciples’ (Matthew 28:19). Perhaps this is the kind of discipline that preachers ought to practice.