Saturday, February 20, 2010

Fire in the Belly

Lent is a time for us to focus on following Christ to the cross, often by either ceasing habits that do not nurture our souls or by beginning new habits that do. We often associate spiritual growth with learning or ideas: learning more about what the Bible says, learning more about prayer, often assuming that having the right information at our disposal will lead to more faithful living. But is this the case? Are having the right ideas or beliefs the best or only way to grow in discipleship? In his book Desiring the Kingdom James K.A Smith calls this way of spiritual formation into question. He writes,

And so distinctively Christian education is understood to be about Christian ideas . . . [T]he goal of Christian education is the development of a Christian perspective, or more commonly now, a Christian worldview, which is taken to be a system of Christian beliefs, ideas, and doctrines.

But what if this line of thinking gets off on the wrong foot? What if education, including higher education, is not primarily about the absorption of ideas and information, but about the formation of hearts and desires? What if we began by appreciating how education not only gets into our head but also (and more fundamentally) grabs us by the gut – what the New Testament refers to as kardia, "the heart"? What if education was primarily concerned with shaping our hopes and passions – our visions of "the good life" – and not merely about the dissemination of data and information as inputs to our thinking? What if the primary work of education was the transforming of our imagination rather than the saturation of our intellect? And what if this had as much to do with our bodies as with our minds?

What if education wasn't first and foremost about what we know, but about what we love?

Especially in the almost five centuries since the Reformation, Christian formation has focused on the ideas and beliefs that set us apart from the Roman Church and the variety of Protestant denominations. Our beliefs - about the Lord's Supper, human free will, predestination and election, the atonement, how "our" understanding of justification by faith differs from "theirs" – became the focus of Christian education. But the book of James says, "You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe—and shudder" (James 2:19). The demons have good theology-they know exactly who God is (in Mark's Gospel only the demons and the Romans proclaim Jesus as the Son of God; the disciples do not yet understand Jesus as God's son), but they do not desire what God desires.

During Lent how can we seek not only to gain clarity in our beliefs, but also in our desires? Most of us believe/agree with the idea that we should (at least sometimes) put the needs of others above our own. But how often do we have the drive, desire and passion to do so? We believe prayer is a good thing, but do we desire to pray more than we desire to do other things? We all know that eating healthier is the best way to lose weight and stay healthy, but somehow our desire for chocolate is far more powerful than our desire to slim down!

I think Smith is on to something: training our mind is indeed important, but the best theology is for nothing if we do not have the desire to live by what the Scriptures teach. What are some things we can do to train our desires so that we truly do hunger for righteousness and desire God's kingdom above all else?


2 comments:

Michael Compton said...

We *are* sometimes too interested in drawing boundary lines between "us" and "them" instead of remembering that Christ broke that which divides us. On the other hand, there is also the danger of being paasionate for the wrong thing. There is a desperate need for spiritual formation, but also for formation in the right direction. From a denomination that insists that there are "essential tenets" of our faith, but also refuses to say what those essential tenets are, I sometimes despair that we're interested in *any* kind of formation.

Ed Kross said...

Michael, I agree. I remember the uncomfortable laughter when I joked with the presbytery commission that ordained me that when they asked the "essential tents" question I was going to ask them what those tenets are. Smith is also very much aware that we can be formed into people who are passionate about the wrong things -I found his description of the "liturgy of the mall" to be both humorous and spot on. I do think Smith helps us see that discipleship is not just from the neck up, shaping only our thoughts, but also our loves.