In my first installment of this article I said that I came across the phrase “A Long Obedience in the Same Direction” in the title to a book by Eugene Peterson. I also said that for most of my life I had a wrongheaded idea of what this obedience was. And it was this wrongheaded idea that in large part led me to a life of misery, drudgery, and (ultimately) to alcoholism and death.
I said this:
But here’s the thing: to what or to whom are we to be obedient? If life is “a long obedience in the same direction,” it seems that having a good idea what this means is sort of essential.
I ended with this:
The ‘long obedience’ isn’t suffering and drudgery. It’s something else entirely, something terrifying in aspect, but delightful in truth.
Today I want to take a first stab at what I expect will be a theme of this blog, which will be to explain and then flesh out what I have learned through great suffering is the answer.
So here’s the answer in a nutshell: If we are to experience Jesus’ promise of the “abundant life” and find the life of joy and peace and contentment we are promised in the Gospel, what is required is simply that we believe what Jesus said. That’s all. It’s that simple.
Of course, this is sort of like that comment one hears in the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous where some old timer tells the newbies that “The only thing you need to change is everything.” I remember when I first heard that comment. i was pretty new in recovery and, like so many alcoholics and addicts, I was looking for some key, some simple answer, that would, like a magic wand, make things better. When I heard this comment I was like, “What the heck?! Jerk… I want someone to help me out here and all you’re doing is throwing out meaningless clichés.”
But as with so many things that are unutterably profound, there is more to this simple cliché than at first meets the eye. After all, it isn’t any one thing that ensnares men and women into addiction, depression, and hopelessness. It’s a whole lot of stuff. Indeed, as the old timers’ slogan puts it, it’s everything. It’s our worldview, our heart’s direction, our fundamental idea of what life is about and where to get an abundant life that lands us in the hellish nightmare of “pitiful and incomprehensible demoralization” in which we find ourselves.
So what do I mean when I say that we need to simply “believe what Jesus said”?
What I mean is that we need to get our perspective adjusted. Not just adjusted, we need to get it replaced. Cash in the old perspective and buy a new one.
For me, my perspective change began when my house of cards fell down. My whole life I had tried desperately to do. Do what was expected. Do what was necessary. Do good. Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t let them know you have no clue what to do. Don’t embarrass yourself. It was a life of staying one step ahead of humiliation and shame.
But when I woke up one morning in the ICU with a tube down my throat, cables attached to my chest, and IVs running into my veins and shortly thereafter discovered that I had arrived in the ER dead with a .512 BAC (blood alcohol content), the jig was up. There was no hiding this one. There was no spinning or obfuscating. The truth was out: the good Reverend was a sorry alcoholic. The man many had respected, admired, and looked to for answers was a shameful, lying, piece of… well, you know what.
When the sun rises in the morning there’s no saying it’s still night. And when an alcoholic drinks himself to death there’s no saying a problem doesn’t exist. Everything comes out in the light of day.
This isn’t the time for a full relating of my story, so let me cut to the chase.
As I rotted in the hospital (mostly alone) for days as I endured the medical detox, as I did my stay in rehab, and as I pondered these things, my mind was drawn to one shining gem. And here it is:
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of God” (Matthew 5:3).
As I had noted in sermons (!) before, one way that this could be (very woodenly) rendered in English from the Greek is “Supremely happy are the spiritually destitute, for theirs is the Kingdom of God.”
Let me jot that down again, dear reader.
Supremely happy are the spiritually destitute…
These are the opening words to Jesus’ longest recorded and most important sermon, the Sermon on the Mount. If we want to know the key to a life of abundance, joy, and contentment, this is the best place to start: spiritual destitution. Or more accurately, it’s the realization that we are, one and all, spiritually destitute.
In one of those wonderful Gospel paradoxes Jesus tells us that the first step on a life of supreme happiness is to make the terrifying and humiliating discovery that all of our worst fears and nightmares about ourselves are true. Indeed, if we want to be happy — truly happy, supremely happy — we have to start by not only recognizing but embracing our spiritual poverty.
Here are a few of the paradoxical ideas that I have embraced as a result:
If I am to be happy, I must first be miserable.
If I am to be rich, I must first know grinding poverty.
If I am to find peace, I must first know conflict.
If I am to know honor, I must first be shamed.
If I am to be humble, I must first be humiliated.
If I am to live, I must first die.
Contrary to my modus operandi heretofore, I realized that what I need isn’t to do, but to be. What I need is to stop trying so hard, to stop running from my shame and humiliation, and to embrace my utter humiliation as the greatest blessing God has ever given to a man.
Instead of trying so hard to prove that I’m not still a sinner, I just need to acknowledge that what Jesus says about me is true (namely, that I am a sinner and broken in every aspect), and then to accept His free gift (“grace”) of righteousness. Instead of trying to be good enough, I just need to accept what Jesus says (namely that there is no good in me) and then to accept His free gift of goodness. Instead of hiding my past & present foolishness, I just need to accept what Jesus says (namely that I am a fool – a great fool) and then accept His free gift of wisdom.
And so on.
As the old children’s song has it, my great need is to admit that I am unlovable and then to embrace the truth that “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.”
What do others think? Who cares? Jesus loves me. Am I an embarrassment? Yes. But my Father in Heaven is proud of me. Am I a fool? Boy howdy, am I ever! But Jesus came for the fools, and through them He proves the wisdom of God.
Can I ever be good enough, smart enough, or accomplished enough on my own to overcome my fears and anxieties and to guarantee that others accept me? No. But it doesn’t matter. The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is my righteousness, my peace, my sufficiency, and my hope. And in Him I have a strong tower, a firm foundation, a rock that none can move.
And today? Am I happy all the time? No way. Am I still a neurotic depressive? You bet. Do I have financial stability? Kind of. Mostly. Sort of. In the past, I've been destitute with no working vehicle, an eviction notice on my front door, and no certainty of being able to buy the food & medications that I need. Today things are okay. But there are no guarantees about tomorrow.
But…
But, what I do have is a joy in my spirit that reminds me that, as John Newton’s hymn puts it, “T’was Grace that brought us safe thus far, and Grace will lead us home.” I have the confidence that “The Lord has promised good to me, His word my hope secures.” And though I be homeless, hungry, and helpless, nevertheless, “He will my shield and portion be as long as life endures.”
The whole key is something that I ran from my whole life: humiliation. Total, utter, crushing humiliation. The key to the “abundant life” is to realize, to accept, and then to embrace that I am “spiritually destitute.”
Peace, y’all. It’s ours for the taking.
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