Growing Pains

 God who is everywhere, never leaves us. Yet He seems sometimes to be present, sometimes absent. If we do not know Him well, we do not realize that He may be more present to us when He is absent than when He is present.

-          Thomas Merton, No Man is an Island

The last two weeks I’ve come to a painful realization of my lack of spiritual maturity.

I don’t love God for being God.

This is a tough thing to acknowledge for someone who has a lot of identity wrapped up in being a good Christian. I’ve done a lot of the right things to conform to the Christian culture; I’m even in Seminary, having dedicated my career to serving the Lord. People hope I’ll be successful as a Christian, including myself (whatever that means). But I’ve got a lot of growing to do.

Coming to Costa Rica was my attempt to jump back from the cliff of doubt, despair and burnout in my faith, and to further prepare myself for ministry. Now that I’m here, I’ve found myself to not love spiritual disciplines. I find it hard to pray. Sometimes I have an aversion to God’s Word.

The Dark Night of the Soul

Many Christians are at least familiar with the term which comes from St. John of the Cross’s work, The Dark Night of the Soul, but we don’t really know how to recognize it or respond.

For me, a night of the soul is a time that removes the guards I place between me and full devotion to God. I’ve got cushions—identities, securities, distractions—that keep me just safe enough from fully giving myself to God. Removing the padding is very uncomfortable.

I’ve had my share of experiences which painfully kick out those crutches: being fired, leaving California, getting sick in India. These are times of great hardship, in part because I’m coming to the unappealing reality that I valued my job, my friends, or even my very life above the God who gave me life.

Now I feel certain despair at my inability to create spiritual richness… to feel spiritual.

Dr. John Coe, director of Biola’s Institute for Spiritual Formation, wrote an article that has resonated deeply with my experience. In it he writes, “Believers in a dark night… become aware of how little they really love God, how little joy they take in the spiritual disciplines. Yet they also perceive, with a kind of sadness, that the world and its pleasures cannot satisfy.”

Yes, that’s it. I can try to read the Bible; I can try to pray. I can go on a hike with breathtaking views in places people call paradise. But none of it is satisfying if I’m not enjoying God.

Coe goes on, “Though they certainly love God in the deep where the Spirit abides, they discover how little there is in their character that enjoys prayer and the Bible, how little they really love God characterlogically.”

Exactly.

The diagnosis is accurate, but what do I do?

“Resist the temptation to spiritually fix oneself,” Coe advises, getting to a root problem of our spiritual pride. Instead of striving harder, I need to rest in God’s grace. This phrase is becoming a theme for my trip. Rest is a state of being, not doing. Humbly I must acknowledge my need for God and my absolute dependence on His grace.

I’m learning to love God for who He is, even if it’s tough and shows me more of myself than I care to see.

Growth is gradual; growth is tough. My Spanish is not suddenly fluent because I’m living in Costa Rica. I’m not suddenly more spiritual because I came here to study the Bible and pray. Out of my love for God I have to build a deep love for the Bible over a period of time, to build a habit of turning to God.

“Be faithful to the spiritual disciplines,” Coe counsels those in the dark night, “despite the fact that practicing them may feel painful and lonely.” Because spiritual growth is a lifelong process, our faith requires diligent habits so that we can daily move forward while keeping Jesus Christ as our goal.

If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it. 

- Jesus