GRACE AND THE SINGLE MEMBER

Jesus’ teachings about the Holy Spirit are among the most beautiful as well as the most revealing and the most hope-inspiring in the Bible. He told his followers that he had to return to the Father so that the Spirit could come. It is better this way, he taught, because—whereas he (Jesus) could be in one place at a time, ministering to all who came to him—the Spirit can be everywhere, ministering to all whom he fills, at once...forever.

Indeed, he is with me. When I get out of his way—and mine—and I pray, it is he who answers me. When I quiet my mind and listen, it is his quiet voice that I hear. There is emotion in his voice but no disquiet. Sometimes there is urgency or reproach but he doesn’t shout. When I am walking in obedience, feeling full of the confidence that only he can give, I am pulsating with the life that flows through me—as my blood does during physical exertion. When my own will swells my head and my chest, however, his flow is decreased as I increase.

The picture that comes to my mind as I describe what it is to quench the Holy Spirit with a resurgence of my own will is one of atherosclerosis. A blood vessel, one moment bulging with its load of corpuscles, begins to slim. As its sides cease their bulging and it regains its previous slender appearance, its color grows less ruddy and its curves less pronounced. In time, it is narrow, colorless and rigid.

Cutting the vessel at some point along its length and viewing it in section will reveal what is going on. Deposits of plaque, clots and lipoprotein have accumulated on its inner walls. The once-translucent vessel walls are now opaque; its precious cargo of life-giving blood no longer shines its ruddy blush through them. The once elastic vessel fabric, stiffened by the crud caked on its inner surface, no longer bulges and pulsates with the passage of blood along its length. Its interior volume diminished by the growth of the plaque, it now delivers a mere fraction of its former shipment.

This is what happens when the Spirit, who always fills my mind and heart with his wisdom and joy, is joined by my will. My will is fallen and broken; the love that the Spirit brings to my relationships becomes tainted with my own selfishness. To the extent that I am thinking my own thoughts, experiencing my own feelings, speaking my own words and working my own deeds, the wisdom he reveals and the love and joy he expresses become diminished.

My desire to amputate my past and crucify my will, so that only the Spirit remains to animate my physical body, is what this ‘blog is all about. I want to decrease that he may increase. Yet, it seems, I never seem to go away completely. In fact, I seem to come back stronger each time I seem to have finally left the scene! Were it not for the fact that even my holy brother, Paul the Apostle, has written that he struggled with this very obstacle to faith, I should have long ago thrown up my hands in frustration, declaring, “I’m just not good enough to be a Christian!” In fact, I’m not good enough. However, God takes my “not enough” and transforms it into his “enough” simply by adding a single ingredient.

Grace is that ingredient. Even though my selfishness keeps my flow of truth down to a trickle, preventing its flooding the world, that trickle still gets through. Even though my self-doubt keeps my prayers to a minimum, hardly battling without ceasing, they are still heard and honored. Even though my fear of failure prevents God’s works from flowing through me, I still manage to do some good. That’s because God augments whatever I manage to produce with whatever is needed to make it “enough”. His adding that “whatever is needed” is called Grace.

The key to maintaining the flow of grace through my life is Faith. I think it unfortunate that this word—which is not a verb in English—has been largely replaced by the word “believe” in English Bibles. I think this because, in English, the word “believe” conveys the meaning of something done with the mind. Faith, on the other hand, refers to something done with the totality of one’s being. I suppose that, for the intents and purposes of Christianity, Faith could be defined as “trying with all of your substance to move God’s love into the world”. Obviously, if someone as holy as Saint Paul couldn’t defeat his will entirely, there is some likelihood that I will never succeed in giving the whole of my being over to God’s service either. In fact, there is considerable likelihood. So what am I to do?

Fortunately, all I need do is everything I can. Whatever I prove unable to do, God is faithful to do for me. If my potential capacity is eighteen units of truth per day, and I only manage to deliver eight, God will make up the remaining ten units—and never chastise me for having fallen short on my quota. That’s because he knows that focusing my attention on what I failed to accomplish will give me a mindset of failure. On the other hand, he also knows that focusing my attention on what I managed to accomplish will give me a mindset of success. So, my success will grow; my failure will eventually shrink to zero.

Knowing that God will not chastise me for failing to succeed completely helps to keep my mind focused on pleasing him. If he, being righteous, does not chastise me, shall I pretend to be even more righteous than he is by chastising myself? May it never be! It is time for me to stop beating myself up merely for being human! As virtuous as they may sometimes seem, other Christians are no holier than am I. The truth is that I already have the victory; the lie is that I will remain unworthy of being his disciple until I am completely crucified and he has arisen in my place. The truth is that God’s grace is sufficient for me; power matures in weakness.