The Goal and The Race

Seneca Rocks

Since I finished Lighten the Darkness as a devotional resource during Advent, I'm looking for new resource.  I picked up Nouwen's Here and Now this morning.  I picked up where I left off the last time I read it, and started reading.

The chapter is about Disciplined Living (Not a bad chapter to start with when one is looking for a new resource for a discipline!).  Read this passage:

Do you not know that in a race the runners all complete, but only one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may win it.

He used an analogy of an Olympics table tennis match, and how determined each competitor was to win the game.  As I write this, the temperature outside is 0 degrees, and the Winter Olympics are fast approaching; it was an image that stuck in my mind.

What is the race?  What are we running toward? My first response is to think Paul meant life with God - that the goal is life with God.  Does that sound right?  I think so, and I think it is a goal that we don't always keep in mind; at least, my focus on it is not always clear.  My first take away message from the devotional I read this morning is that - to keep my focus clear on the goal.

Secondly, Nouwen is amazed by the determination of those who were playing table tennis, and by the joy on the face of the winner.  Do we invest that kind of energy in meeting the goal that we have set?  So often I sit down to do a devotional reading, and I just rush through it, because my goal isn't to grow as I read it, but instead to finish it as quickly as I can. I wonder what would happen if I consistently redirected my energy to reach the goal I'm trying to reach.

Stained Glass

At the School of Christian Mission, we were talking about the Genesis story of Jacob and Esau.  One of the questions concerned Jacob’s wrestling with – well, with God?  with an angel?  with a man?  Whoever it was…. 

The book asked a question about Jacob’s dislocated hip – the wound he received along with a new name.  What was the significance of this?

I think that when we are wounded, emotionally, or spiritually, that we have the hope of moving through the wound a changed person – a person with a new name.  I hope that on the recovery side of a hurt, I may be stronger or more mature or improved in some way.  I think that is one of the benefits of moving through something like that with the presence of God.  Transformation.

The leader of the class read a story by Heather Murray Elkins about stained glass.  She was designing worship for a conference, and asked them to give her an image of where they were.  The answers came back as broken glass. 

Think about broken glass.  It’s sharp, piercing.  It can be blood-stained from the hurt it might inflict.  Stained glass.

Think about stained glass in a church.  It’s beauty comes from the stain – from the colors and the story they symbolize.  Its greatest beauty – its only beauty – comes when light shines through it.

I wonder if sometimes our wounds are like this image of stained glass.  The beauty can develop from the stain, and it is most obvious when the light of Christ shines through us.

Growth

Growth. We think of growth in the spring as beautiful and a welcome change from winter. We look at our kids in amazement -- how fast they grow and how surprising it is to turn around and see your baby as a 15 year old.

When we think about it, though, I think we would all agree that growth is not effortless. Growth involves struggle. It involves pushing against barriers. My youngest son is pushing for more freedom (he'll have to clean his room first. I'm determined!). There are barriers to change.

As we think about spiritual growth, what are the barriers? What do we struggle against? What is holding you back from growth? What is standing in my way of "growing toward perfection?"