Hey, Cobblestone,
Just for fun, imagine the apostle Paul as a teacher at a chalkboard.
If the image you create resembles Einstein, that’s OK – add tunic and sandals
and you’re off to a fine start. Chalk in hand, Paul is assaulting the board
with great fervor, diagramming the first eleven chapters of his letter to the
Romans (the doctrinal section). Dust hangs in the air, and his hair becomes
more frazzled with each stroke. He turns frequently to the class: some are
eager and attentive; others have saved a straw from lunchtime to launch
spit-wads at the attentive ones. But Paul uses none of his mental power to
distinguish one from another; he only wants to get this massive truth on the
board.
Running low on space, he knows he has to bring this thing to
a logical conclusion, and soon. He takes a step back. Doctrine of original sin?
Check. Predestination and election? Check. Salvation by grace alone through
faith alone? Yep – they’re all here, doctrine after doctrine, with lines and
arrows connecting the related dots. It’s all so helpful. With a flourish, Paul
fairly leaps at the bottom-right corner of the board, draws an oversized
“equals” sign, followed by the summary on everything up to this point:
For God has consigned
all to disobedience, that he may have mercy on all (Romans 11:32).
Intending to say, “And there you have it!” he turns again to
the class. Some stare back through squinted eyes; straws hang slack from
parted, puzzled lips. He holds his words. They don’t have it. Rounding slowly
to the dreaded chalkboard, he begins to realize: neither does he. What
happened? The “equals” sign cannot lie.
In this moment, a fonder revelation dawns on him: he’s been
teaching way above his pay grade. Way. Someone has been animating him far
beyond natural ability, inspiring him to write what he didn’t know he could,
pushing and pulling all at once. The marks on the board are merely a
representation – a fine representation for sure, but waiting itself, yet to be
animated – a big foam finger pointing to the grand and glorious One who fully
intends his will to be carried out. Now Paul gets it. There’s one essential
action to take, like right now.
He throws out his arms, hands open wide. His last piece of
chalk shatters on the floor. He spins to the class, showing them not the
intense, knitted brow of Einstein, but the wide open, gleaming eyes of a
classmate who has just discovered The Answer. With uplifted chin and a voice to
reach heaven, he delivers the one true and fitting capstone to all that has
come before:
Oh, the depth of the
riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his
judgments and how inscrutable his ways!
“For who has known
the mind of the Lord,
or who has been his counselor?”
“Or who has given a gift to him
that he might be repaid?”
For from him and
through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen
(Romans 11:33-36).
Greek and Hebrew come together in exclamations known to any
language: “Hoopa-a-a-a-ah and WooHOOOoooooooo!!” (Your imagination is still
engaged, yes?) Finally(!), the regenerated soul has found a way to join forces
with flesh and bone, brought together by the worship of the only one who could
pull off such a thing. Um, now what?
In one last exercise of the imagination, picture Paul, in a
passion somewhat dangerous to his physical frame, shoving his desk off to an
unused portion of the classroom. He summons the students from their seats and
into the now empty space. They form a tight circle, leaning inward,
arm-upon-arm. Nary a spit-wad clutters the air. He captures the eyes of each
one in turn, and says, “So – here’s what we’re gonna do…”
After a brief huddle, they break. The only good direction
from here is toward the door, which swings open of its own accord rather than
being torn from its hinges. The class and teacher all together spill into the
corridor and from there into the wide and unsuspecting world – the academics to
do what the Holy Spirit has gifted them to do, and the spit-wad launchers…
well, the world has need of them too, so long as their aim is Holy
Spirit-guided. And Paul, he goes out to plant yet another church – because
that’s his thing.
What Paul delivers in the huddle is the front end of the
twelfth chapter of Romans, the preamble to what is called the practical section
of the letter. (I like practical. How ‘bout you?) Step One is to present our
bodies as a living sacrifice, which is nothing less than spiritual worship.
Simultaneous with Step One, we are urged to enter into transformation by the
renewal of our minds, by which we may know the will of God. And just like our
imaginary Paul in his imaginary classroom, something actual, something
tangible, has to happen – except now, there’s nothing the least bit imaginary
about it. Ready?
Having gifts that
differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them:
if prophecy, in proportion to our faith; if service, in our
serving; the one who teaches, in his teaching; the one who exhorts, in his
exhortation; the one who contributes, in generosity; the one who
leads, with zeal; the one who does acts of mercy, with cheerfulness (Romans 12:6-8).
I’ve taken “Spiritual Gifts Assessments” till I’m blue in the
face. Not a one of them has told me anything I didn’t already know – if I had
cared to notice. Spiritual gifts have an uncanny way of manifesting themselves.
Paul (the real one) backs me up in this statement. In another letter to another
“class,” this time the Corinthian church, he says, To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good
(1Corinthians 12:7). Look again – what word manifested itself most readily to
you? Probably not “manifestation,” and that’s OK for now, but I’m urging you to
let that word poke you in the ribs, because the best tell of a spiritual gift
is to observe what a believer does with his or her earthy tent of flesh.
At any given moment, each of us Christians is either bringing
the kingdom of God or resisting its coming. Yes, the Lord gives sleep and
Sabbath (thank you, Lord!), and that too is to his glory. But there’s no
neutral. In the exercise of any spiritual gift, very matter and real energy are
affected. The universe changes shape. Please don’t think that it’s anything
less than what I’ve just described.
In 1Corinthians 12:7, “each” refers to each Christian, every
single blood-bought daughter and son of God. To each is given – there’s no such thing as an ungifted Christian.
To leave that gift or gifts in the realm of theory, short of manifestation, is
to resist the coming of the kingdom of God. Truly, I do not intend to add
anxiety, so let’s do this: Let’s get into an easy, ongoing dialogue with our
Father, and ask him provide a witness of the Holy Spirit moment by moment –
confirmation when we’re tracking with his will, and conviction when we are not.
And then simply watch. Are you prophesying, serving,
teaching, exhorting, contributing, leading, and/or doing acts of mercy? Are you
using a shovel to the glory of God? Maybe a fire truck? Who made you able to do
that? What difference is it making in the world? There has to be something.
My favorite photo of Albert Einstein shows him with hair a
mess and tongue stuck out, a totally goofy expression providing a laugh at his
expense. My second-favorite photo of him is from across a desk covered with
disheveled piles of paper, captioned with a question from the renowned
physicist: “If a cluttered desk is a sign of a cluttered mind, of what is an
empty desk a sign?” We can be glad that God gives us plenty of opportunities to
take life out of the realm of theory, to put boots on the ground and cooperate
with him in the outcome. What a great loss if we were to leave all that power
just humming in a back room somewhere.
Grace and Peace (beyond a theory thereof),
John
