Moving right along...

I have to be careful. I began my last blog with a physics formula, so I had to do a heart check for self-seriousitis. I knew it first because I'm a language guy not a physicist... and I had to go digging to find the momentum formula. I just wanted to make sure I wasn't posturing.

More than anything I'm wrestling with the "so what" of my monologues on inertia and momentum. Always wrestling with the tendency to live in my own little brain-dom, I occasionally have to come down to earth and figure out what the freak I'm talking about and how it relates to the real world.

I think I'm getting a grip on this one. We have to keep moving. I know that sounds simplistic or boring or whatever... in fact I can hardly believe that's the best I came up with... but I think it's the secret to life. Keep going. But don't just keep moving, keep moving well. Whatever little thing that you feel was a God-honoring thing today, do more of that tomorrow. But don't do it like it's some formulaic "rubbing of the bottle so the geenie shows up," do it because what made you recognize that you had a God moment was God. That means that He found a way to communicate something, and you found a way to pick it up and actually take a step in the right direction.

The implications of that are bigger than I've ever really wrestled with I think. Because if I had wrestled with it, I think I would have much more momentum. I'm still pretty caught up in seeing the grand ME, and attributing most of what happens in the universe in some way to me or mine. George Harrison said, "All I can hear I, Me, Mine..."

But tucked away in a phone call or an encouraging e-mail or a wave to someone in the store is something that's outside of myself beacause it's not about myself. Those moments are the stuff of momentum. Instead I rush off to do my next thing my way and forget to savor the scent of God in the chance meeting or the hand lent to a stranger.

Unfortunately, too many times the idea of momentum in my life comes down to sin management. To be a better Christian I must stop being a sinner. Man. That's a tall order. But what if the mouth speaks out of the overflow of the heart, and what if my heart will be where my treasure is so what if I start giving of what's most important (ME) to someone or something else and watch my heart and my mouth follow? If I start putting some of my valuable time and energy into others, we'll soon see if my life won't follow suit, won't we? What if rather than simply focusing on tearing down the flesh that keeps me from the Spirit, I spend more time trying to build up all those spiritual moments where God rages in me and I sense for a moment the reality of eternity and the opportunity I have to run for it... and the mandate to run well.

The good southern baptist legalist in me want to clarify and say that I'm not being soft on sin (I guess I just did) but right now I don't think I want to say that. My every struggle with sin lets me know that no matter how hard I want to be, I'm soft. Sin beats me too often. So maybe I'm not the guy who needs to fight sin because too often I don't do a very good job of it. Maybe instead I need to spend time and buy lunch for the Guy in me thats bigger than my sin and let Him fight for me.

Momentum is motion. If you can't gain freedom by trying to stop something, then gain freedom through momentum. Go do something. Keep moving. Walk on. Go make a disciple, and try to show them how it's done by doing it yourself. What an expriement that would be, eh?

Momentum in Spiritual Formation: The prospect of someday

P = mv

Momentum equals mass times velocity.

Spiritual formation begins with halting my trajectory toward destruction. If following Christ is motion based on my new identity in Christ, we must first stop moving in the direction defined by my old identity in myself. Basically, stop doing the things I have always done. The problem is that at the moment I start following Christ, I've been moving in a direction, and the law of inertia tells me that I'll continue moving in that direction until something stops me. I think recognition of my direction is a major part. When I begin to recognize the thoughts and attitudes that keep me moving in a direction away from Christ, I can begin to halt the spiritual inertia that keeps me from being the raging Christ follower that I so desperately long to be.

So let's assume for a second that I've stopped my spiritual inertia that was leading me toward trouble (big assumption). Simply stopping is no good, because (as I said before) I'm still left among the rubble and ruin that my old life created. Not to mention that I'm still in a state of bad inertia, because I'm simply not moving. Following Christ implies motion, or a new sort of inertia.

So let's further assume that I've begun the journey of following Christ well. I've recognized the faulty thought patterns that have led to faulty behaviors and I'm sputtering down the road toward "the healthy Christian life." (I don't like that phrase, it sounds too trite and canned, but go with me). This is the kind of spiritual inertia frequently referred to as "the camp high." Back from a mission trip or a retreat, and I'm ready to lay down my life for the movement. My life, marriage, family, home, work, and thought life is going to be different. Or is it?

Where the camp high (or any emotional response) leaves us wanting is that it fails to sustain itself. The friction of life and responsibility slows progress until it's first stopped, and then picks up the road where it left off.

This is where momentum comes in. Momentum is what you get when mass is moving in a direction. It's momentum that makes our initial spiritual inertia so difficult to break. The silver lining is that spiritual momentum in a God-ward direction can be equally as difficult to break.

Mass. Size, substance, weight, density... All the components of the substance of what we are. I think of people with spiritual mass as "deep" people. They always have an interesting take on what God is doing. They're unshaken by the circumstances and situations in life. There's a calm about their demeanor, because the weight (rock) they are tethered too isn't easily moved. It's big. It's got mass.

Velocity. Speed in a given direction. Speed is important. Like Ricky Bobby, "I wanna go fast!" Have you ever known someone who always seems to have a fresh insight from God? Speedy spiritualists seem to be hyper-tuned to God around them. They're receptive to God whispers, so they can move fast and seem to be ahead of the curve. Direction may be the key term here. I've known frantic people who are always chasing something, and never chasing the same thing two days in a row. People with spiritual direction know where they're going and they're able to walk toward it most days in an intentional and direct path.

Momentum. It's not enough to simply get started. It's important to get the whole thing moving somewhere worth going. The camp high becomes a spiritual thing to marvel at when it continues beyond the ecstasy of the experience and into the reality of every day. As they move, the substance of what they are picks up speed toward their destination. Spiritual momentum is a beautiful thing, because it looks like a life in order.

The parable of the sower speaks to momentum, and frankly it drives me crazy sometimes. I hate to see the seeds in my life fall on rocky soil or among the thorns. I'm tangled up in life and not able to break free to run forward with all that I am toward a God ready and waiting to receive me. I build momentum when I begin the tedious work of digging out my reservoir. The spiritual disciplines that I love to hate help me find the stillness and silence that I need to recognize God's voice. I gain spiritual girth when I replace the flab of self with the muscle of my identification with Christ. I pick up speed as the decisions and habits become ingrained and instinctive. My direction remains firm as the weight of who I am becoming moves faster and faster.

When it's so difficult to build momentum in ourselves, how do we call those around us to do what we've not done well? I think about my small group. Most of them are relatively fresh in their journey, and they frequenly find great fits of energy squelched by an energy bill that's larger than they expected or a particularly bad day with their kids. We talk of faithfulness and continuing the path toward where they are going, reassuring them that the stuff of life is building a depth and a faith that can sustain them. But what do we put in their hands? What girth can we impart to them to help them carry forward, even if it's simply rumblin' bumblin' stumblin' forward. How do communities of like minded people become transformed by new momentum?

Orginizationally speaking, that's really hard to do. Relationally speaking, there is hope. I have to be willing to lean in and lend whatever measley girth to the process. I'll get dirty when I do that, because many times the problems aren't mine and the journey is one that I specifically and decidedly wouldn't have chosen. The Church is never more alive than at these times. The paradigm that crashes the whole thing to the ground is the framework of individualism. The fact that I see the problems of others as the problems of "others" means that I'll always be limited to whatever weight or velocity I can muster. But the context of lives lived together on purpose pours a heavenly light into the shadows of difficulty that I always wrestle with. Maybe the first inertia I have to set out to break is the movement of individualism. Two is greater than one. In a friendship, the mass is automatically doubled. Momentum builds. And you can't program it. You have to choose it. We as the Church have to go there first, and grab as many others as we can possibly get our mits on. Those are the important decisions, and they are every decision. Spiritual momentum is made up of the mundane and commonplace choices that I make. To bring or not to bring... that is the question

Inertia and Spiritual formation: What I am is not what I will be

I've been thinking a lot about inertia lately. Inertia says that an object in motion will continue in motion until acted upon by an outside force. Objects at rest will do the same. As a spiritual principle... I'll continue to do what I've always done unless something stops me. I don't have to look very far to see this reality. My habits, thoughts, and reactions are the same as they used to be, and will remain so until something changes them. My defeats come from inertia. Forward motion is only stopped by a greater force in an opposite direction. Faith says that the outside force is God through the Holy Spirit. There is a new motion in Christ. There is not simply new motion - some sort of pauper in prince's clothing thing - I am a new thing all together. But this new thing is bearing old fruit because I forgot to get started in the right direction. There's the same old inertia moving this brand new thing.

Side note: I think that's why mission is such a vital part of spiritual formation. Paul writes that you who have used your hands to steal should use your hands to build. That's redemption. That's opposite inertia.

Side note 2: That's why disciplines work. They are inertia breakers. Silence stops the noise and lets you hear the voices that compel you. Solitude removes the external pressures so that God's internal pressure can move you forward. On and on through the disciplines. They help stop what is steaming ahead and create the surface area in my life for God to stop the motion.

We aren't simply physical beings. We are animated by our souls. Our souls are known as they manifest themselves through our thoughts, which manifest themselves in action (see Dallas Willards Renovation of the Heart for a more thorough discussion of the soul). As our thoughts are altered, so will our lives be altered. The first place inertia must be addressed is in the mind. Be transformed by the renewing of the mind. Let your new life be manifested by a new way of thinking.

As a human, I'm prone to addictions and compulsions of all kinds. I am always looking for new ways to tether myself to something. These are the substances of my intertia... the things that keep me moving in a direction. Consider inertia in such areas as my cynicism. The reason I continue in a cynical frame of mind is because when I see an opportunity to scoff, my mind dwells on it until it becomes as "real" as my hands or feet. What started in my brain finds its fulfillment only after I've given permission to it in my thoughts. I've lingered with the thought because that's what I've always done. Inertia. It's also why the scripture tells us to think on things that are right, pure, noble, and true. Those things are intertia breakers. They're also outside of the scope of my powers. They are totally God. The power in me that is able to break my destructive inertia is the presence of God. God not only stops my forward motion, He erases the tracks in the sand. Where I am is a product of where I've been, but it no longer has to be the trajectory that defines where I am going.

How, then, do I become less cynical (for instance)? Well, first off I have to stop moving in the direction of cynicism. Practically, that means staying away from places, things, and people that reinforce that. It also means not going to the place in me where "the cynic" calls home and makes his base of operations. Don't linger in the place of temptation because the slightest move begins or continues inertia (that's a discussion of momentum... another topic of relevance I think). That stops inertia, but it leaves me in the place I am, and that's no good. Where I am is among the wreckage I've created by going to that place. Reminders are everwhere, and they have already proven big enough to get me moving the wrong way again. So I can't just stop inertia, I must reverse it.

That's when discipleship happens. When I stop following the drives of my old self, I can begin following Christ. Practically that means replacing the parts that drove me to be cynical with the things that drive me to Christ. The foibles of the foolish or requests made with tearful emotional pleas are opportunities for cynicism, but if I replace those with a move to prayer, then I'm on the road to breaking inertia. Over time inertia will begin moving the other way. To continue on and pick up speed in this new direction moves us into the realm of momentum, which is perhaps the next discipleship principle.

As for now, I'm setting about the process of breaking inertia. Thomas Merton prayed, "Justify my soul, O God, but also from your fountains fill my will with Fire. Shine in my mind, although perhaps this means "be darkness to my experience," but occupy my heart with your tremendous life. Let my eyes see nothing in the world but your glory, and let my hands touch nothing that is not for your service. Let my tongue taste no bread that does not strengthen me to praise your great mercy. I will hear your voice and I will hear all harmonies you have created, singing your hymns. Sheeps wool and cotton from the field shall warm me enough that I may live in your service; I will give the rest to your poor. Let me use all things for one sole reason: to find my joy in giving you glory." amen.