Faith Works 4-30-22

Faith Works 4-30-22
Jeff Gill

Again and again (and again)
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There are things you just have to keep doing.

Saying good morning, washing your hands, taking out the trash.

There are acts which are never ending, in a way: cooking dinner, doing the dishes, putting everything away . . . waking up to more dirty bowls in the sink. If you have babies, diapers; if you have older children, conversations & suggestions once made and twice and now to be again (and again).

If you are married, saying "I love you" isn't out of fashion because you've said it before; asking "what's wrong" or saying "you look happy" are the sort of rituals that circle past again and again.

And if you happen to be the possessor of a body for the time being, you know that exercise isn't something you can save up, let alone put off for too long. Your need to stretch and loosen up and then get your limbs in motion is something that will continue; God willing, for a very long time. But again and again for all that.

As any preacher will tell you, and probably has, many are the parallels between the physical and the spiritual. They are not exactly the same at all, but the comparisons are often instructive. Your spiritual muscles need to be used, stretched a bit and put to useful exercise. If you get out of the habit of testing your assumptions, of forgiving those you find in opposition to you, or perish forbid you lose the knack of thankfulness, you'll find it hard to get those impulses in motion again later when you really need them.

Driving cross-country and listening to some podcasts, I heard a minister of a multi-ethnic congregation talk about how so many churches fear conflict, and avoid disputes, because they're out of shape. Not quite his words, but they landed on my ear that way. If a faith community gets slack and repetitive in assuming that all right thinking people believe as they do, and avoid anyone in disagreement as obviously wrong thinking folk, you get flabby and loose thinking.

Then an unavoidable conflict comes out into the open, and people go "Ow!" That hurt, to stretch my thoughts and assumptions and yes, my beliefs a bit. One response is to snuggle down into the easy chair and vow not to end up working those muscles again. Limit the sphere of debate, reduce your contacts with those who aren't already clearly with you, and stay sedentary, recumbent, slothful.

Or, you realize "hey, that discomfort reminds me I'm out of practice putting my beliefs and commitments to the test" and that's a reminder to work those fibers of the spirit more frequently.

Many church discussions can run the risk of only being "questioned" by someone asking if we are all agreeing in exactly the correct way. The idea that direct opposition could even be considered by the light of day, in a classroom or chapel, even a sermon . . . that pushes us. We can push back, with love indeed, with forbearance and gentleness and care, but learn how to push back, or we can retreat into a safely padded zone.

Resistance training is something I know, physically, much more secondhand than perhaps I ought. But it seems a common physical therapy practice, and it doesn't mean someone hits you upside the head, just that you learn how to press on against a weight or force or obstacle set against you. I'd have to say as a preacher and a theologian, I've been blessed to put my beliefs into dialogue with people who do not share my assumptions, and while it's not always comfortable, I find I learn as much about my own faith as I do the other. Talking about spiritual practices and essential worldviews with followers of Islam, Buddhists, agnostics and yes atheists (absolutely atheists!) has been a blessing to me.

If you've not had the experience, I commend it; if you dive in headlong, it's like going into a weight room and just starting to try to pick up dumbbells at random. You can stub your toe or pull a muscle. Find a guide, but test yourself. I dislike the term "step out of your comfort zone" as a bit of a cliche, but I think our call is to expand our comfort zones, and be willing to again and again explore how our faith is at work in our life.

Word is, you'll never end in so doing.

Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's had both fruitful and pointless arguments over the years, and the trick is knowing when to let it go. Tell him how you know at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.