“He leaves the creature to stand on its own two legs – to carry from the will alone duties which have lost all relish.” ¹
It doesn’t exactly paint a picture of fun, this quote from C.S. Lewis, “to carry from the will alone duties which have lost all relish,” though standing on our own two legs is quite fulfilling.
Any lofty goal requires discipline to set your mind to it and stay the course, and this includes faith.
But should we always power through, whatever it takes?
If we woke up each day deciding whether we felt like going to work at our jobs – our feelings would rarely lead us there. To survive we must do the needful, ignoring our yawning mornings and beach-hooky visions.
But we do, from time to time, change jobs.
Likewise there is no athlete in the Premier League who grew up playing soccer only when he felt like it, when the teammates were fun or the weather cool. Working out is an age-old and proven metaphor for the rewards of the disciplined life.
But we do vary the workout in seasons, change up the route of the run, keeping the end goal in mind.
And here is what I can miss about the life of faith: distinguishing the goal from the course we take to get there. We want to simply say:
Know the goal + choose the course + stay the course = finish well
This equation works for stretches of time, but we must be willing to review our workout regimen, lest we overuse some muscles and atrophy others.
The trouble comes when we confuse the course with the goal:
Know the goal + stay the course + don’t question the course = trouble
We first come into a faith community agreeing that we want to understand our creator more than we do, tacking snapshots of Him onto the communal wall, then pulled onward by the joy of discovery. Posting more pictures each week, the collage fills in as we see God in more settings, in each other’s lives, through service and praise.
The goal is seeing God more², but eventually we stop adding photos, content merely to visit the wall, mimicking the settings and poses in the pictures already on the wall. We’ve found a course toward the goal, and it seems to work, so why change it?
The goal is reduced to protecting the course. We’ve changed from being primarily explorers, innovators, and learners, instead becoming protectors, watchmen, fearful of the outside. (Fearful even of the insiders who might begin to rearrange the photos). And so has our image of God.
Throughout, we’ve been learning to make up our mind to follow God “no matter what” (more on that next week), so when we see a few people here and there drop out, we might pity them, concluding they’ve lost the end goal when in fact they may have only changed course.
Into this mystery I suspect that God may be changing up the ways He reaches us
I am challenging myself to keep adding photos to the wall. Thinking beyond, pictures themselves may not be enough to hold the eternal mystery. The collage I am beginning to see has paintings, sculpture, tear art, even wild stuff like Cristo’s umbrellas
strewn about the countryside. All contributed by so many people (who might not even own a camera)
At times, we can see how extraordinarily good God is, how extravagant with us, how stable and unchanging a rock to hide away in. He is also a living God who created millions of different organisms with varied ways of living into their “Imago Dei” – the image of God.
Into this mystery I suspect that God may be changing up the ways He reaches us, maybe always has been.
Varying the course has not changed the goal, but does give glimpses of “the relish” to Lewis’ creature learning to stand on its own two legs.
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1Lewis, C. S. The Screwtape Letters. Ireland: CrossReach Publications, 2016 (but it is much older than this)
2Is this an oversimplified faith goal? Enjoying and glorifying God, for instance, captures the goal defined by the Shorter Heidelberg Catechism.
Photo of Harry Kane / Tottenham Hotspur from Getty Images
Photo of Christo’s umbrellas from http://christojeanneclaude.net/projects/the-umbrellas