Train Yourself for Godliness (Part Four)

Train Yourself for Godliness (Part Four).  Only a handful of verses speak even vaguely about leading a group through its spiritual development stages. The author of Hebrews nearly scolds the Jerusalem church for its prolonged immaturity: “For though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you again the basic principles of the oracles of God. You need milk, not solid food, for everyone who lives on milk is unskilled in the word of righteousness, since he is a child” (Heb. 5:12-13).

The Apostle John seems to indicate that there are several stages concurrent within each congregation: little children, children, young men, and fathers. “I am writing to you, little children, because your sins are forgiven for his name's sake. I am writing to you, fathers, because you know him who is from the beginning. I am writing to you, young men, because you have overcome the evil one. I write to you, children, because you know the Father. I write to you, fathers, because you know him who is from the beginning. I write to you, young men, because you are strong, and the word of God abides in you, and you have overcome the evil one” (1 John 2:12-14).

If the seven churches in Revelation are allowed to be somewhat allegorical, in addition to being actual and historical congregations, then each church situation could conceivably represent a different developmental stage: Christ can technically be in a church but no longer that church’s “first love” (Rev. 2:4). A church might be weakened due to its doctrinal confusion (Rev. 2:14-16) or corrupted due to its moral degradation (Rev. 2:20-21). A church may nurse a reputation for life while it is dead (Rev. 3:1). A church could be victorious despite being viciously opposed (Rev. 3:8). Christ is nauseated by the type of church that is so accommodating to the world that it has become non-distinct, neither hot nor cold (Rev. 3:16). Especially ironic, Christ could be functionally outside the church that he established with his blood, knocking at the door for re-entry (Rev. 3:20). Taken together, a loose spectrum somewhat emerges for a congregational lifespan, ascending from young and passionate, to growing though tested, to established yet cool, then descending from codified yet corrupt, to orderly yet compromised, to reputational yet dead, to institutional and unchristian. Congregations come and go, but of the church Christ said, “I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it” (Matt. 16:18).

Train Yourself for Godliness (Part Three)

Train Yourself for Godliness (Part Three).  Of all the sociological models of human development, none are sufficient at depicting the spiritual growth of a Christian. Whether the indigenous Wheel of Life model (Maiden, Mother, Mage, Crone), Aristotle’s Three Stages of Man (Youth, Prime of Life, Old Age), Hippocrates’ Seven Stages of Life which Shakespeare put into As You Like It (Infant, Schoolboy, Lover, Soldier, Judge, Pantaloon, Second Childhood), or Erik Erikson’s standardized Stages of Psychosocial Development (Childhood, Adolescence, Adulthood), all these theories of development are linear, flattened, and intentionally non-religious. However, a Christian’s individual spiritual growth and a congregation’s collective spiritual growth are progressive and participatory, though not precisely formulaic.

Nevertheless, a faint sketch emerges in the Bible of the spiritual growth of individual Christians and local congregations. With some effort, landmarks and causeways on the spiritual map to maturity appear. “A disciple is not above his teacher, but everyone when he is fully trained will be like his teacher” (Luke 6:40). “When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways” (1 Cor. 13:11). “And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another” (2 Cor. 3:18). “So then, the law was our guardian until Christ came, in order that we might be justified by faith. But now that faith has come, we are no longer under a guardian, for in Christ Jesus you are all sons of God, through faith” (Gal. 3:24-26). “[Build] up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, so that we may no longer be children” (Eph. 4:12-14). “Have nothing to do with irreverent, silly myths. Rather train yourself for godliness” (1 Tim. 4:7).

The training vocabulary that Paul lifts from the culture and repurposes for discipleship (Greek, gymnazo, like English, gymnasium) is a fixture in the Greco-Roman world. The ancients valued highly physical training. However, Paul speaks of a different kind of training at a different kind of gymnasium. “For while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come” (1 Tim. 4:8).

Train Yourself for Godliness (Part Two)

Train Yourself for Godliness (Part Two).  Jack Nicklaus, affectionately nicknamed “The Golden Bear” by his fans, was the consummate golfer in his generation, perhaps his century. Inducted into golf’s Hall of Fame in 1974, he toured professionally for over 30 years, winning 117 PGA tournaments, including 18 Major tournaments, several times winning at the Masters, PGA Championship, US Open, and Open Championship. 

I’ve never played a single hole in my life, yet I still know about Jack Nicklaus and his humility. In 1950, at 10 years old in Columbus, Ohio, Nicklaus began his mentorship with golf instructor Jack Grout. In 1962 when Nicklaus turned professional, and every year after throughout his legendary career, he would return to his mentor, Jack Grout, before the PGA season started and say, “Teach me how to play golf.” The swing, the grip, the aim, the ball—Nicklaus already knew and practiced these foundational elements—yet he approached the game afresh annually as if he were a newbie. Nicklaus was always training.

Nicklaus’ story looms large in my mind as we stand at the new church year, focusing not on his game but on his mindset. “Teach me how to follow Jesus,” could be our prayer of convocation, similar to David’s mindset when he prays: “Lead me to the rock that is higher than I” (Psa. 61:2); “Make me to know your ways, O Lord; teach me your paths” (Psa. 25:4).

I am convinced that we do not need something new, sophisticated, or sensational. Everything tried in the last three decades that has been marketed as new, sophisticated, and sensational has ended up on the thrift store shelf, once mass-produced only to be discarded and discounted to twenty-five cents for paperback and fifty cents for hardback. (Just think: The Prayer of Jabez or Left Behind). Instead of that, and though we have never left, we need to return to the timeless, changeless cross of Christ, praying, “Teach me how to follow Jesus.”

Following Jesus impacts at least these few categories: we need to know Christ deeply, love God and others authentically, and serve the world purposefully. Christians in every location and throughout all generations have walked this humble pathway to the cross of Christ; a metaphorical pilgrimage to our spiritual origin and a lens to envision our spiritual destination.

Train Yourself for Godliness (Part One)

Train Yourself for Godliness (Part One).  Baseball is calm, swimming is smooth, tennis is polite, soccer is theater, but in the South, football is king. Every year from September to December (and if you’re fortunate, then January, too), all Friday nights are high school football game nights. Saturdays are college football tailgate events. Sundays are professional-level grid-iron contests. Although football is arguably a silly game—since pads are required because the human body was not designed to collide at full speed into another human body, since oxygen is available after every play, and since there are far more timeouts than touchdowns—it requires intense physical training.

Football did not exist in Bible times, but other sports did. If ancient citizens were blessed with enough time between fighting actual wars and were rich enough to buy from other people’s farm labor, they frequently competed in running, wrestling, boxing, and other athletics that we would probably classify as Track and Field. Sports were very popular in the first century, so physical training was very common. The ancients even built dedicated arenas for training called gymnasiums, which we obviously carried forward into our modern setting.

The Bible, especially Paul’s letters, uses athletic imagery with largely positive overtones. One such passage where athletic imagery is heavy is 1 Timothy 4:6-8, but Paul mixes his wide appreciation for sport with a sharp parody for the gospel opponents who have strangely mixed rigorous training (though not exclusively athletic training) with religion. They were called the Ascetics. Ascetical beliefs (wrongly) reasoned that severe physical treatment of the body, which was assumed to be evil, could impart real benefit for the soul, which was assumed to be good. Elements of asceticism—strict fasting, certain abstinences, dietary restrictions, extreme frugality, and even self-harm—could be found inside major philosophical camps such as the Stoics, Epicureans, Pythagoreans, Neo-Platonists, as well as Jewish mystics and early Christian monastics. Yet, Paul fought to keep the gospel distinct from all asceticism.

“Being trained in the words of the faith and of the good doctrine that you have followed, have nothing to do with irreverent, silly myths. Rather train yourself for godliness; for while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come” (1 Tim. 4:6-8). Preaching the gospel and teaching sound doctrine contrasts with promoting irreverent “speculations” (1 Tim. 1:10) and promulgating silly myths (any tradition or narrative that is outside and contrary to the Bible). Paul uses sarcasm to cut down ascetic practices, which massively overemphasize “bodily training,” by calling their main doctrine little, slight, with only marginal benefit. Instead of overestimating the body, “Train yourself for godliness [which] is of value in every way” (1 Tim. 4:8).