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Friends of Devotion
By Gary Thomas "Who is he who will devote himself to be close to me?' declares the Lord" (Jer. 30:21). I couldn't imagine a better aim in life-that each day, my heart would give itself over to knowing God a little bit more. Such pursuits are more easily begun than completed, of course, so I began looking for books in Christian bookstores that might aid me in my search to be devoted to God. While many had good things to say-particularly about family life, financial management, social action, and the rest-I found few books that addressed the root issues of being in an intimate relationship with God. These writers seemed to be asking and answering different questions. Then I stumbled across a little volume written 300 years ago-Practicing the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence. Here was a humble man who often embarrassed himself in front of others-and I could relate to that-but who learned to find a deep and abiding joy in his relationship with God. It touched me so deeply that I must have read it three or four times. This is what I was looking for, I thought. Finally, here was a man who understood my quest! Next a seminary professor pointed me toward The Interior Castle by Teresa of Avila, and a new world of prayer opened up for me. Before, I had sought to "wrestle" in prayer, and I usually entered my daily devotions with a long list of intercessions. I thought to grow in prayer, I had to increase the amount of time I prayed-my 30-minute prayer times needed to stretch to 45 minutes, then 60 minutes, and then I'd have to throw in a few all-night vigils. Obviously, this could go on for only so long. Thankfully, Teresa of Avila showed me a new way-a deepening intimacy in prayer, something not measured by the clock. Putting this together with Brother Lawrence's words about living in the awareness of God's presence, I soon found the key to a prayer life that could adapt to my calling as a married man with a full-time job. Soon I couldn't get enough. Over the next 10 years, I met Thomas à Kempis, whose classic, The Imitation of Christ, has challenged and motivated Christians for almost 500 years. I met a spiritually passionate medieval writer, John of the Cross, and the Frenchmen François Fenelon and Francis De Sales. I was greatly challenged by Blaise Pascal and the Calvinist writer John Owen. Anglican William Law, with his A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life, called me to pursue my passion for God with disciplined living. In short, I found in the Christian classics a storehouse of wisdom and insight that I couldn't find anywhere else. Almost unwittingly, I discovered that I had stumbled across an area of the Christian life commonly referred to as "spirituality." That's a fancy term for describing the Christian's relationship to God, but there is much confusion regarding modern spirituality. Vampires, Angels, and Life After Death True Christian spirituality is concerned with how we relate to the true God, who is Spirit (John 4:24). It is not a search for more power, for more fulfillment, or for new types of experience. It's always relational. The Classics' Invitation William Law, an 18th-cnetury Puritan whose love for Scripture was renowned, nevertheless wrote: "Why then must the Bible lie alone in your study? Is not the spirit of the saints, the piety of the holy followers of Jesus Christ, as good and necessary a means of entering into the spirit and taste of the gospel as the reading of the ancients is of entering into the spirit of antiquity? "Is not the spirit of devotion to be got … by frequent reading the holy thoughts and pious strains of devout men? … Is it not … reasonable for him who desires to improve in the divine life, that is, in the heavenly things, to search after every strain of devotion that may move, kindle, and inflame the holy ardor of his soul?" Ralph Venning, a seventeenth century Puritan, talked about how he benefited from reading a book by the noted Arminian John Goodwin, even though Venning was a devout Calvinist: "Though I confess myself not to be of the same mind and opinion with the learned author in some other controverted points, yet I cannot but give my testimony concerning this piece, that I find an excellent spirit moving on the face, and acting in the heart of it, to promote the glory of God, the power of godliness, and consequently the good of men, especially Christian men." Venning points to an issue that arises as soon as we pick up books outside our normal denominational boundaries. When we approach the classics, we do have to be careful. There are many helps to be found, but the classics aren't Scripture. In fact, there are some things we need to watch out for. Reading the Classics We've seen this before. Somebody says she believes, but you know it hasn't become real to her because nothing about her life has changed. In the same way, after salvation, we may know some areas in our lives need improvement, but are our hearts set on realizing that improvement? Has it moved from a concern to a passion? How do we read with our hearts? We read with our hearts by allowing God to challenge our attitudes, our reactions, and our emotions. Devotional reading is meant to challenge the inner soul. So often I have found that God wants to root out the critical attitudes that lie buried deep within me. I may be concerned about why I am undisciplined in the outward practice of prayer or Bible study, but God may want me to focus on what has captured my heart's attention. I look at the symptoms, while God searches out the source. Second, I find it helpful to underline passages that impress me. This burns them deeper into my understanding. I'll then stop reading and pause to consider similar passages in Scripture or other classics that I've read. This may mean I won't have time to complete an entire chapter before stopping for the day, but that's okay. The third thing I needed to learn is that it's usually more profitable to read a good book two or three times than to read five mediocre books once. All of us have different learning styles, but few people can "own" a book-in the sense that its truth becomes a part of us-after one quick reading. Devotional books need to be read and reread slowly, perhaps taking as long as a year to finish one book, so that we can consider and ponder ideas and thoughts before moving on. The fourth thing I had to learn is that, unlike scriptural reading, when reading the classics I need to be wary of the writer's own limited perspective. These people are wise, but they're not "inspired" in the way Moses and Paul were inspired as they wrote Scripture. William Law's later book, The Spirit of Love, has a considerably different emphasis than his Serious Call. The pattern seems to be that a writer will sound somewhat legalistic in the early years and then mature into a more grace-filled approach emphasizing intimacy with God in the later years. It helps to know where a writer was on his journey so you can provide a biblical balance. I don't "critique" Scripture, but I do critique the classics.
Armed with this knowledge, I can then ask myself, "Am I growing too complacent over sin in my life?" To what lengths am I willing to go to see sin die in my life? I might never enter a torture chamber in an attempt to get rid of sin, but am I, on the other hand, failing to address areas of defeat? I may disagree entirely with the method mentioned in this classic, but I can learn a great deal from the motivation. As always, we should be active members of a church and perhaps even a small group where we can ask questions and receive counsel as we venture into the classics in search of those precious kernels of truth that will help us understand God in a deeper and better way. Making Friends I find the same camaraderie when I read the classics. It's deeply gratifying to devote myself to becoming closer to God, but sometimes I feel alone in this pursuit. At other times, I feel alone in my temptations. It's during these times that the classics help so much. Francois Fenelon has become a close friend, even though he lived several hundred years ago. Before he died, Fenelon left a collection of letters in which he discussed both his temptations and his victory over them. He also left an incredibly practical book, Christian Perfection, that has guided my spiritual journey. If you pushed me, I'd confess that, theologically, I have a few problems with Fenelon's tendency toward quietism; but there is so much rich stuff in his book that I don't mind having to spit out a few bones. For instance, Fenelon warned me against feeling sorry for myself, reminding me that self-pity is a spiritual cancer. Armed with his time-tested wisdom, I find I'm no longer alone in my pursuit of God, but rather am walking alongside a trusted and proven friend. In the classics, I've found many such friends. They may have lived hundreds of years ago, but I've benefited from their insights, learned from their struggles, and been encouraged by their confessions. There is a treasure house of wisdom just waiting to be mined for our spiritual benefit. Like any prospector, we may find a bit of "fool's gold" that has to be thrown away, but when we find the real thing-an insight or understanding into our relationship with God that ushers us into a deeper intimacy-perhaps you'll realize, as I have, that all the work was worth it.
Practicing the Presence of God, Brother Lawrence (1692) Experiencing the Depths of Jesus Christ, Jeanne Guyon (1685) A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life, William Law (1728) The Imitation of Christ, Thomas a Kempis (c. 1418) Confessions, Augustine (c. 400) Guidebooks Close this window © 2006 Gary L. Thomas - The Center for Evangelical Spirituality
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