We can live in continual growth. Or we can live in contented stagnation. That which we live will depend on our hunger for life and truth – and the degree of our obsession with Jesus. Should the latter be diluted we might vary from being beastly careless about living in the fullness of our inherited life. Or we may simply be religiously dilatory having accommodated ourselves to our position on our present treadmill of Christianity.
Losing our capacity to be and to see.
Should we have a hunger for life and an appetite for truth, we will eat Jesus and live because of Him. We will not content ourselves with defective doctrine just because it is ours. Neither will we indulge in semi-conscious rationalisations that confirm us as dead trees. We can either be a bonsai or a spreading oak, alive in the Spirit or kidding ourselves that we are because we are still tied to some element of the law.
Richard Rohr writes, “God is patient, however. We don’t have to move out of our comfort zone every day. God gives us little plateaus — breathing spaces wherein we unfortunately get ensconced again. Everything is now wrapped around us, to affirm our present status and security and identity. It gives us a momentary sense of superiority. We hold on to this false security. We need failure and quiet time to recognize this pattern. We don’t want our cobweb of identity taken away. Without grace we will not enter into the void, and without grace the void will not be filled. All we can do is try to keep our hands cupped and open and ask God to teach us how to keep our hands cupped and open.” (1)
A passive accomodation to a lesser identity than a son.
Are our hands cupped and open or are we contentedly walking in circles on a plateau we found fifteen years ago. A void awaits that is simultaneously the casting - off, of our body of death and a new instalment of spirit and life that has always been ours.
(1) Rohr, Richard. Everything Belongs: The Gift of Contemplative Prayer (p. 53). The Crossroad Publishing Company. Kindle Edition.