Why You Don’t Have to Believe Your Intuitions Are the Holy Spirit (Or How the Spirit Shapes Our Hearts)

One of the most difficult questions we face is "How do I hear God speak? How do I allow my life to be guided by God's purpose?" So often in our culture we are told to listen for the voice of God within our hearts. But as Philip Cary points out in his book Good News for Anxious Christians, our hearts are filled with so many different voices that we just can't figure out which voice belongs to God. But there is good news for us: God does indeed speak to us, through the words of Scripture. It is through this external word that God speaks to us. And there is even more good news. In Cary's words, "The voices in your heart don't have to be God's voice to be worth listening to. They're not infallible, but they are often perceptive, telling you a lot of things you need to know" (p.7).

When it comes to the work of the Holy Spirit, we are often encouraged to see our intuitions as the Spirit moving within us. Some see intuition – those flashes of insight or gut feelings where we "just know," even though we can't explain how, to be the work of the Holy Spirit. But the problem is our intuitions can be wrong. A college classmate of mine told me this story about how his parents met. His parents went to college together and when his mother caught his father's eye he just knew this was the woman he was supposed to spend his life with, and indeed they did marry. The problem arose when several years into their marriage he had this same intuition about another woman. He couldn't be right both times, and I understand his wife set him straight about how much to trust his intuition.

But just because intuitions are not the Holy Spirit speaking to us does not mean they are not valuable. As with listening to the voices within our hearts, it is good to listen to our intuitions, even if they are not always right. Cary describes intuition as skilled insight. A trained musician can "get" a piece of music in a way an untrained musician can't. On the basketball court Michael Jordan could make a decision to pass or shoot based on intuition, without having to spend valuable time analyzing what was going on. A skilled musician or ballplayer has spent so much time at their craft that they perceive music or the actions on the ball field in a different way; all their training has helped hone their perceptions so they can act accurately without having to analyze the situation first. Intuitions may not be the voice of the Holy Spirit, but they are still worth listening to.

If intuitions are not the same as the work of the Holy Spirit, then how does the Holy Spirit work in our hearts? Cary writes:

Intuitions are like all the other voices in our hearts: they're our own voices, not God's, but that doesn't mean we should ignore them. Nor does it mean they have nothing to do with the Holy Spirit. For the Holy Spirit does work in our hearts, even though our hearts and all the voices in them are our own. They remain our own hearts, our own thoughts and feelings, even while God is at work in them. That is the deep and joyful mystery here, and the good news.

Think of another kind of habit in the heart, which the Bible and the Christian theological tradition call "virtue." Like a skill in sports and in the arts, virtue is an intelligent habit that shapes our hearts – not only how we act and do things, but how we feel and perceive and think. Hence one of the old words for discipleship is Christian formation, meaning the way that Christian virtues give form and shape to the heart. . .

Take kindness, for example. A kind person looks at the world differently than a cruel or indifferent person. A kind person sees people differently – she will notice when you are hurting, for instance, even when others don't. So kindness is a form of perception in addition to everything else: a form of feeling, a readiness to be moved to compassion, and a willingness to do what needs to be done (p. 25-26).

For Cary intuitions of kindness or generosity or self control are not the direct work of the Holy Spirit, but signs of the Spirit's work in our hearts. The Holy Spirit works through the creation of virtues because the goal of such virtues is not merely to make us more skilled, but to make us better persons who conform more closely to the character of Christ. Commenting on the Holy Spirit working through the formation of virtue, Cary writs:

When the Spirit is at work in this way, our hearts are different. It's not that the Spirit does it all for us, but rather we are different inside because of the Spirit's work – our hearts get into better shape than they could have by their own efforts alone. But our efforts are always part of it, because the Spirit works on our hearts by working with us, strengthening and helping our efforts, not replacing them. For the point of the Spirit's work is not to eliminate our hearts, but to change them, to reshape them in the image of Christ (p. 28).

One of the things I appreciate most about Cary is the way he reminds me that my humanity is not a barrier to knowing and being in relationship with God. Sin certainly is, but sin and humanity are not the same thing. God does not want us to parrot the party line, nor does God wish to engage in some kind of thought control along the lines of George Orwell's 1984. God wants to be in true relationship with us, and wants us to be fully and joyfully engaged with us. Our human thoughts, feelings, desires and intuitions are as much a part of our relationship with God as they are a part of our relationship with other people. Just as we cannot be in a full relationship with others if we always hide or mask our own unique voice, so we cannot be in a relationship with God if we do not speak to God in our own unique and human voice.

What virtues do you wish to develop? How have you addressed God in your own human voice? Feel free to respond to this post by clicking the "comments" link below.

Why You Don’t Have to Hear God’s Voice in Your Heart (Or, How God Really Speaks Today)

The first practical thing Philip Cary encourages us not to do in his book Good News for Anxious Christians is to stop trying to listen to God's voice in our hearts. This may sound like a shocking thing to say. Cary desperately wants us to hear God's voice. But we need to know where we can hear it, and it is not in our hearts. Part of Cary's motivation for writing this book comes from his work as a professor of philosophy at a Christian college. He has seen firsthand how his students struggle to hear God speak, how many have been taught to enter into a time of quiet to listen to God speak to them in their hearts.

Often times when in solitude I listen to my heart, the experience is more like a raucous session of congress with the Speaker of the House banging the gavel and shouting "Order! Order!" than it is a time of peace beside a still mountain lake. Here's how Cary describes the experience of listening to our hearts:

[W]e have many different voices in our hearts, and some are better than others. Some in fact are pretty dumb – thoughtless and conventional, easily manipulated and willing to join whatever party is going on. Those are usually the loudest voices, trying to drown out the others . . . It's usually the quiet voices that are the most perceptive, because they come from a part of ourselves that's afraid to speak up at the party, but that knows what we really have to live with inside – knows how we really feel and how it hurts. This is where we often find the voice of our own integrity – a voice that's unsure of itself because it tells us about feelings we're not quite ready to admit we have, or thoughts that on some level we don't want to think about even though we need to. But the voice is there because it comes from the part of ourselves that the party can't drown out – the part that notices how our heart isn't quite in it (p.7)

For Cary listening to our hearts is incredibly important, but not because that is where we hear the voice of God. Listening to our hearts is important because it leads to self-knowledge. In Cary's words, "The voices in your heart don't have to be God's voice to be worth listening to. They're not infallible, but they are often perceptive, telling you a lot of things you need to know" (p.7).

But the voices that we hear in our heart are to a large degree formed outside of our hearts. They may be the voices of parents, teachers, mentors and friends. They may be the voices of people who have caused us great harm and pain. They are the voices of the mass media which seeks to shape our tastes and desires. But for Cary the truth that the voices of our hearts are shaped by voices outside of ourselves is good news, because God speaks to us through the external words of Scripture. Cary writes:

A very different kind of spirituality comes to us from the revelation of God in holy Scripture. It frees us to develop our own thoughts and feelings, since we don't have to look for God within our hearts – which is where we are most vulnerable to self-deception and technologies of manipulation. Instead, we can find him in his faithful word. So once again we have doubly good news about self-knowledge and the knowledge of God. The Good news about self-knowledge is that it's okay for your feelings and thoughts to be your own, not the voice of God. For the good news about God is that he makes himself known the way a real person does, by speaking to us from outside our hearts. And precisely that external speaking, when we take it in by faith, gives a new shape to our hearts, conforming us to the image of his Son. That's how our thoughts and feelings and inner voices become a new thing, not merely a product of consumer culture . . . [T]he place to look for God's word is not in your heart, but in the gathering of God's people for worship, prayer, preaching and teaching" (p.14-15)

How does this perspective on hearing God's voice change sit with how you seek God's voice? Do you find Cary comforting or challenging? Click on the "comments" link below to share your thoughts as to how we seek God's voice.

What Not to Resolve for 2011

As we are in the final days of 2010 many of us may be thinking about what resolution we want to make for 2011. Often these resolutions have to do with our health. Sometimes it is our physical well- being: losing weight, exercising more, eating healthier. Sometimes these resolutions are about our spiritual health: reading the Bible more often, spending more time in prayer, finding ways to serve others. We hope these resolutions will help train us to be healthier, better people.

But for those of you who have done any kind of sports training, you know that not all training is good training. As I've become involved in triathlon training I've found out how much I need to work on my swimming form. If I focus on swimming as hard or fast as I can without learning how to change my stroke, I will just reinforce poor form that will rob me of energy for the bike and the run. This kind of training will not be helpful to me. In fact it will hurt me by leaving me exhausted when I've only finished the first of three legs of the race. But if I focus on breaking down my swims into shorter distances where I focus on body position in the water while swimming more slowly I will train my body in proper form, allowing me to swim more quickly and efficiently. I need to unlearn bad habits so I can learn good ones.

The same holds true for our spiritual lives. Not all training is good training, even when our intentions are the best. Over the weeks to come I will be blogging through the book Good News for Anxious Christians by Phillip Cary. Concerned that Christians are becoming burdened with anxiety about techniques that allow us to give God control, find God's will, or hear God speak, Cary helps us see that these catchwords are not biblical, and that a truly biblical approach to the Christian life actually decreases our anxiety about being Christ's disciples. To give a taste of what is to come, here is Cary in his own words:

This book is about what we're getting wrong, why it's worrying us, and why we don't have to think and do what makes us so anxious. It's about seeing the invitations in God's word for what they are, so that our Christian life may be lived in cheerful obedience rather than in anxious efforts to get it right. On the negative side, it's about bad theology, the kind of theology that, when it is preached and taught and made a part of our lives, makes us worried and miserable. On the positive side, it's about why the things God has to tell us, even in his commandments, are good for us, how they free us from anxiety and strengthen our hearts to do is work with joy (p.xvi).

To whet your appetite some more, here are some of the chapter titles in Cary's book: Why You Don't Have to Hear God's Voice in Your Heart (Or, How God Really Speaks Today); Why You Don't Have to "Let God Take Control" (Or, How Obedience Is for Responsible Adults); Why You Don't have o "Find God's Will for Your Life" (Or, How Faith Seeks Wisdom). As we train in our lives of discipleship, may we train well. What resolutions regarding your Christian life would you like fulfill in 2011? What parts of your spiritual life make you anxious? Feel free to carry on the conversation by clicking the "comments" link below.

Around the Interwebs. . .

The internet's biggest blessing is that it opens to us an incredible diversity of knowledge, opinion and insight. The internet's biggest curse is that it opens to us such an incredible diversity of knowledge, opinion and insight that we can't sort through it all. Below are some postings online I've found worthwhile and/or provokative:
The Devil's Sermon

God Does Not Play Games with Us

Is the Church Like a Family?

The Church's Real Competition

The Problem with Leadership Today

Into Your Hand I Commit My Spirit

It was now about the sixth hour, and darkness came over the whole land until the ninth hour, for the sun stopped shining. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Jesus called out with a loud voice, "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit." When he had said this, he breathed his last.

Luke 23:44-46

The Heidelberg Catechism, part of the Presbyterian Church (USA)'s Book of Confessions, begins this way:

Q. 1. What is your only comfort, in life and in death?

A. That I belong—body and soul, in life and in death—not to myself but to my faithful Savior, Jesus Christ, who at the cost of his own blood has fully paid for all my sins and has completely freed me from the dominion of the devil; that he protects me so well that without the will of my Father in heaven not a hair can fall from my head; indeed, that everything must fit his purpose for my salvation. Therefore, by his Holy Spirit, he also assures me of eternal life, and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for him.

At his death, Jesus commends himself to God's care. He commends not just the moment of his death but the fullness of his life: the joy of raising his friend Lazarus from the dead, the sorrow of feeling abandoned at his own death; the joy of being surrounded by his disciples, the frustration he felt when they didn't understand him; the comfort and strength of being surrounded by God's presence and the grief and loneliness of feeling forsaken by God on the cross.

In our prayers we are tempted to bargain with God, especially in times of need and distress. "If I survive this illness, I promise I'll be a better person," "If this plane lands safely I'll go to church on Sunday," "If I get this promotion I'll be more charitable with my money." We think if we give God something he wants – a moral life, church attendance, money to church or charity – we can be assured of a safe and prosperous life. This is what we tend to think of when we commend our lives to God.

But the promise of the Gospel is not that if we give God something God values then God will give us what we value – often safety, health or prosperity, whether for us or for others. The promise is that we belong to God – body and soul, in life and in death – and that nothing in heaven or on earth can separate us from the love of God in Jesus Christ. This is not a promise that we will never know suffering, hardship or grief. It is the promise that by the grace of God in Jesus Christ that none of these things, no matter how difficult, will be our undoing. The promise of the Gospel is not a successful life where tomorrow will be better than today. The promise is resurrection, that as we bear the cross and its sufferings we will be granted eternal life. The Gospel does not promise us freedom from suffering, but the strength to enter into suffering, both our own and that of others, because we are confident that suffering will not rob us of the life we have in Christ Jesus.

When we commend our life, our Spirit into God's hands we are not bargaining with God, but making ourselves available for God to work through us, even in the midst of hardship, fear and suffering, trusting that God does make everything fit God's purpose for our salvation and the salvation of the world.

What does it mean for us to commend our lives to God? You are invited to listen to these passages of Scripture as we commend our lives to God's hands:

Psalm 31

Psalm 139

Luke 14:25-33

Romans 8:26-39

It is Finished

Later, knowing that all was now completed, and so that the Scripture would be fulfilled, Jesus said, "I am thirsty." A jar of wine vinegar was there, so they soaked a sponge in it, put the sponge on a stalk of the hyssop plant, and lifted it to Jesus' lips. When he had received the drink, Jesus said, "It is finished." With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

John 19:28-30

It seems that every generation imagines itself at the turning point of history. World War I was the war to end all wars, until we fought World War II, which then led straight to the Cold War. When the Soviet Union collapsed some proclaimed "the end of history" because democracy and capitalism had triumphed over totalitarianism, believing this brought an end to the conflicts that fueled human history. In our times we are told the decisive struggle is with terrorism, but before the war on terror we waged war on poverty, drugs and cancer. Within the Church there are some who proclaim that the end is near, that many who are alive today will witness the return of Christ and be eyewitnesses to the most decisive event in all of time and eternity.

But part of the scandal of the cross is that the most decisive event in the history of the universe happened almost 2,000 years ago when Jesus Christ was "lifted up for all to see and glorified," which is John the gospel writer's way of speaking of Jesus' death on a cross. When Jesus said, "It is finished" he was not talking about his life nor about his earthly ministry. He was talking about the redemption and salvation of the world being completed in his death. By submitting to death Jesus shattered death's hold on us. By dying at the hands of sinners – both Jew and Gentile – Jesus broke the power of sin. In Jesus' death the old order of sin and death has come to an end, and the new creation has begun.

For those of us who live in the most powerful nation in history this can be hard for us to wrap our minds around. We enjoy being the leaders of the free world, of setting the tune that the rest of the world has to follow. We believe that when history turns the corner we will be in the driver's seat. But, in the words of Paul, what we experience now are not decisive turning points in history, but birth pangs and labor pains that remind us that the work accomplished in Jesus Christ will soon be fulfilled, and until this consummation we live in the tension of the now, when sin and death still have a foothold in the world, and the not-yet arrived kingdom of God, where sin and death will be no more.

In the words of Stanley Hauerwas, "It is finished, but its not over." While we believe that Jesus accomplished the salvation of the world in his death, this does not mean we wait quietly until God's kingdom comes in full. What we are called to do is live out the fullness of Christ's salvation in the present so the world can see that sin and death have been dethroned, that the emperor has no clothes. We demonstrate the forgiveness of sins by the way we forgive one another. We demonstrate the abundance of God by our generosity. We demonstrate the reality of Christ's reconciliation by including people of all nations, languages, races and social classes in the fellowship of the church. We, the church, are proof of Christ's salvation as we live lives shaped not by sin, but by God.

How do we live in this way? You are invited to listen to these passages from Scripture as we seek God's salvation in Jesus Christ:

Luke 12:22-34

Romans 6:1-14

Romans 8:12-25

II Corinthians 5:11-21

Colossians 3:5-17

My God, My God, Why Have You Forsaken Me?

From the sixth hour until the ninth hour darkness came over all the land. About the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice, "Eloi, Eloi lama sabachthani?"—which means, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" When some of those standing there heard this, they said, "He's calling Elijah." Immediately one of them ran and got a sponge. He filled it with wine vinegar, put it on a stick, and offered it to Jesus to drink. The rest said, "Now leave him alone. Let's see if Elijah comes to save him." And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit. At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook and the rocks split. The tombs broke open and the bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs, and after Jesus' resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many people.

Matthew 27:45-53

We live in a culture where hope, or at least optimism, springs eternal. We believe in progress – given enough time, technology, good public policy and elbow grease will solve our problems and cure our ills. We don't like stories where the hero dies at the end – the thrill of James Bond and other action icons is not the suspense of whether the hero lives or dies, but how the hero manages to triumph when the deck is stacked against them.

But as those who believe that God's victory over sin, suffering, evil and death was won in the cross of Jesus Christ we are to reject such optimism. Matthew provides us with details that point to the dreadful reality of Jesus' death: darkness had come over the land, for the light of the world is about to be extinguished. The earth shook in grief and shock as the one through whom the earth was made breathed his last. The curtain in the Holy of Holies in the temple, where the very presence and glory of God was believed to dwell, was torn, a sign that this place had been abandoned by God. And there is Jesus' own cry of Godforsakeness: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Jesus Christ, Son of Man and Son of God, suffered and died. There was no last minute reprieve, no last minute plan that saved his life. In the words of the Apostles' Creed, Jesus was "crucified, dead and buried," all at the hands of the most technologically savvy and most efficiently governed empire of the time.

We know that Jesus' death is not the end of the story, for we know the resurrection will come. But the resurrection does not make Jesus' death any less real; the resurrection does not remove the scandal of the cross. We are tempted to make the resurrection the happy ending, the hero's narrow escape from and victory over the villain. While the Scriptures teach that Jesus' resurrection from the dead is proof of God's faithfulness and provides us with the reason to hope in our own resurrection and in the new heavens and the new earth, the Scriptures also teach that it is through the seeming foolishness and weakness of the cross that God's wisdom and power are revealed. It is the cross that is the ultimate display of God's power, not the resurrection.

This contradicts everything we believe about power. Many in the wider church are spending massive amounts of time, energy and resources to help the church regain its influence in society through electing Christians to high public office and by encouraging Christian young people to find careers in law, medicine, business and politics so we can shape the culture from the top down. We equate power with control. Listen to these words from Stanley Hauerwas:

These words from the cross, and the cross itself, mean that the Father is to be found when all traces of power, at least as we understand power, are absent; that the Spirit's authoritative witness is most clearly revealed when all forms of human authority are lost; and that our God's power and authority is to be found exemplified in this captive under the sentence of death. The silence of Jesus before Pilate can now be understood for what it was – namely, that Jesus refuses to accept the terms of how the world understands power and authority.

We believe true power will prevent us from suffering, from ever feeling forsaken. The Presbyterian theologian William Placher, in his book "Narratives of a Vulnerable God," writes,

Human beings seek power because they are afraid of weakness, afraid of what might happen should they be vulnerable, and so the drive for power that looks like the purest expression of freedom proves in significant degree inspired by an enslaving fear that dares not risk vulnerability. . . Christian faith teaches that God is not powerful like that. The God who loves in freedom is not afraid and therefore can risk vulnerability, absorb the full horror of another's pain without self-destruction. God has the power to be compassionate without fear; human beings now as in the time of Jesus tend to think of power as refusal to risk compassion. But God's power looks not like imperious Caesar but like Jesus on the cross.

How do we understand the cross as a sign not of human weakness, but of God's power? How does the cross shape the way we understand the right use of power? These are questions for us to ask as we listen to these Scripture passages.You are invited to listen to these passages of Scripture as we pray for Jesus to make us part of his community that understands the true nature of power, power shaped by the cross:

Psalm 22

Isaiah 53

I Corinthians 1:18-2:5

II Corinthians 4:7-15

Revelation 5