Growing Young: What Maturing in the Faith Looks Like

I listen to a lot of talk about what it means to grow up in the faith. A lot of it sounds like variations of “buckle down, grit your teeth, and try harder” or “have better morals” or “follow this 10-step plan to guaranteed maturity in six months or less.”

My idea of Christian maturity is becoming a child all over again. It’s about growing young.

I don’t mean acting childish. There is a world of difference between being childish and being childlike. You’ve all been around kids enough to tell one from the other.

Children aren’t shy about admitting their dependence. They know they need help– and lots of it. They aren’t embarrassed to seek out that help.

Too often, believers buy into the lie that you have to figure it all out on your own. That your own spiritual growth is up to you. Jesus saved you, but from now on it’s all up to you.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for the disciplines of the faith and training your body, mind, and spirit to follow hard after Christ.

The best way to grow is to grow in community with those who will encourage and support you (as well as occasionally challenging you and holding you accountable). The most mature believers are the ones least ashamed to ask for help when they know they need it. They are the most aware of their own flaws and weaknesses and the grace that covers all their sin.

Christianity is all about “we” not “I”. That’s why God instituted the Church. He never intended for Lone Ranger Christians to strike out on their own and try to mature in solitude.

I still love the idea of a declaration of dependence. That’s what the Christian faith is all about. It’s not a DIY religion but an every day surrender and dependence on God and His grace. Your greatest strength still lies in surrendering and submission.

 

 

The Art of Wonder and Awe

“Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, “Do it again”; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun; and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we. The repetition in Nature may not be a mere recurrence; it may be a theatrical ENCORE” (G K Chesterton).

I love watching my niece play. She can get endless delight out of the simplest things and when she finds something she likes, she wants to see it over and over and never tires of it.

I wish I were like that. Sometimes, my sin is that I am too sophisticated and expect to much. I take for granted the sun coming up every morning and going down every night. I expect new flowers to grow and bud each new spring. So little amazed me any more because I take it all for granted and expect it to happen.

But maybe I need the eternal appetite of infancy. To be astounded and amazed at little things like flowers budding or rain falling or the sun breaking through the clouds. To see my life not as a right but as a gift that I receive every single day.

The Bible says that God’s steadfast love and mercies are new every morning. Not because of necessity or duty, but because he never gets tired of showing them. For God, loving me and being merciful to me never gets old. His delight over me is renewed every single day.

I hope that in turn being loved by God and receiving those mercies doesn’t get old. I hope I am always amazed that God should love me and take care of me and give me the chance to know him and make him known. Or as a pastor put it, to be a thimble trying to hold the ocean of God’s love, which can’t help but overflow onto everyone and everything around me.

Maybe what you and I need is a little less grown-up sophistication and self-importance and a little more  childish wonder and awe. Maybe it’s time to be growing young again.