Life in Microcosm[1]
– A Spiritual Syllogism
By John R. Wible
A “microcosm” is an epitome, a very
small but thorough representation of a very large thing that enables one, by
observing the small and comparing with the large, to know the large thing. Peter,
in Chapter One of his first Epistle gives us life in microcosm as he admonishes
us, paraphrasing Leviticus 11:45,
14 As obedient children, do not be conformed to the
desires of your former ignorance. 15 But as the One who called you
is holy, you also are to be holy in all your conduct; 16 for it is
written, Be holy, because I am holy. (NIV)
In 1 Peter 1:15, the word for "be"
is genethete in the Greek. Grammatically,
genethete is an aorist imperative
which means that it is a verb not of being but of becoming. It is an imperative
command, a thing that must be done; Not an “oughta” but a “gotta.” Peter says that we must become “holy.” His
microcosmic admonition raises at least two questions, each of which raise
further questions. First, what is “holy?” Second, how do we become “holy?”
“Holy”[2]
has been variously defined, but for our purposes, we define it as "set
apart for God's service."[3]
The implication is that God placed Christians here solely to serve or to please
God – easy to say, hard to do – well worth both the saying and the doing. It is
worth it because there is a hidden beautiful secret in this command. It is in
this service, and only in this service, that we find both our reason for existence and our highest fulfillment in existence. If we lose ourselves becoming
holy, we find ourselves achieving the things that we most want, really want, in
life. In becoming set apart for God's service, we are related into but not
co-mingled with the world. These relationships, vertical and horizontal, are
our true blessing, and we all want to be blessed whether we will admit it or
not.
Further, in becoming set apart for
God's service, and only in so doing, we are able to fulfill all the other
commands of the Bible. In this one command, God, via Peter's pen, has given us in
microcosm, both the question of life and the answer to the question.
If that were so, what are Christians
called to do specifically? The answer
to that question reveals itself in a myriad of ways for each individual person;
but, generally one can say that all Christians are called to do is to “love God
and love man”[4]
– that’s all. No Law, no rules, no regulations; not even a list of do’s and
don'ts. As Johnny Bench would say in the paint commercial, “No runs, no drips,
no errors.”
Hopefully, this point is sufficiently
concise, but it begs the next question, “How are we able to do this?” After one
has beaten his head against a wall still trying to be holy, the obvious answer becomes
clear. C.S. Lewis observes that pain has a certain way of bringing clarity.[5]
We, in and of ourselves are not capable of “loving God and [actually or even]
loving man.” About all we are capable of loving is ourselves, and we need help
even doing that.
The last statement leads to yet
another question, “From what source does our help come?” The Psalmist says, "I
look up to the mountains; does my strength come from mountains? No, my strength
comes from God, who made heaven, and earth, and mountains."[6]
Pastor Timothy Keller tells us that looking to the mountains in Leviticus was a reference to the Canaanite
prophets building altars to the Baals on the hills and then appealing to them
as if they were real gods. The prophet, Elijah would ask them, “So, how's this
working out for you?"
With what my daughter, Amy refers to
as an “uncanny grasp of the obvious,” we post-Enlightenment people, conclude
that building altars to the Baals and appealing to them for help is only a Paleolithic
representation of man haplessly seeking to reach God from the ground up rather
than appropriating the true and only help that comes from God, top-down. However,
to our "enlightened" surprise, I submit that it is we, not the
Baal-worshippers who are "directionally challenged.” Faith and
spirituality aside, experience, history and a rudimentary knowledge of the
nature of man informs us that allowing God, not only to speak to us, but
perhaps more importantly, to live in us, which constitutes the ultimate “top-down”
approach, is the only way to become holy.
Be as it may all this philosophical truth,
neatly wrapped, bowed, and ours for the taking, another question is begged. “How
do you actually do it?” In the answer
is some bad news and some good news. The bad news is that there is no formula.
The good news that there is no formula.
However, if we remember how
Christians have done this over the millennia, we cannot help but be led to the
observation of the traditional spiritual disciplines,[7]
both internal and external. These internal include among others, prayer,
meditation, and Bible study.
Prayer, of course, includes what I
have observed to be our first thought, though by no means the totality, that
being supplication, an asking for something related to our and other people's needs.
Further though, it includes the
recognition of our relative position viz.
and relationship to God, to our appreciation for all He does for us and to
the acknowledgment of the points at which we put our desires above those of
God.
Woefully, a prayerful component,
often missed is contemplation. Bishop N.T. Wright quotes a great philosopher as
saying that contemplation answers what prayer asks. Prayer asks, "Who are You,
God?" "Who am I and what do you want me to do?"
In contemplation, and in Bible study,
God, through the Holy Spirit, gives us the answer that He wants us to have. Jesus
said, "Ask and you shall receive."[8]
Of course, as with all things valuable, the answer is frequently not cheap, easy,
obvious, expected or anything we want to hear. Perhaps that is why we don’t do
it very often.
There is a time to think deeply philosophical
thoughts. For people like me, that is the fun of it. However, and
frighteningly, I might add, “The time has come," the Walrus said, "To
talk of many things. . .”[9]
There comes a time to put aside philosophical thought and in the words of Nike,
to "Just do it." For me, that's the hard part. In the end, though that
is the most rewarding part, just doing it, fulfilling our purpose on earth, loving
God and loving man.
Love, it turns out, and contrary to
popular culture’s teaching, is not a feeling but a “doing.” It is a fancy with feet, a hypothesis with
hands, a speculation with skin, and a whim with wings. Once again, one turns to
the traditional disciplines, now to the external ones, the ones that involve doing
something to, for, about, or with other
people.
James tells us that true religion is looking
after the needs of the widows, the orphans,[10]
the poor, and as Bishop Wright observes, the quintessential post-modern needy
group, the "disadvantaged."[11]"Love
thy neighbor,"[12]
Jesus urges us, “He that is in need,”[13]
he that is "disadvantaged;” Even, "Love your enemy."[14]
Did I leave out anyone? If so, feel free to fill in the blanks. The Apostle
James clarifies by saying to us, "don't tell me you love me - show me.”[15]
Here's where the external and
internal disciplines meet, where they mingle, in fact, where they merge. We
have all heard the saying, "Fake it ‘til you make it."[16]
It has even been applied spiritually. May I submit that is error. There is nothing
fake about it. "Faking it" is a bottom up approach that is as doomed
to failure as Elijah's Baal-worshipping friends. We can only do love as God enables
us to so do.
The holy life is an upside-down life
as compared with what people conceive of as life. It is a top-down life. Perhaps,
the converse is true. It just may be that it is the people that have it wrong
as compared with the holy life in not feeling it while at the same time in
doing it.
By now, my reader may accuse me of
circular logic, but not so. God commands us to become holy. Perhaps unbeknownst
to us, He is the mechanism for our becoming holy because as He commands us to “become”
holy, He is holy.[17]
One becomes holy by becoming holy. How
then, does one become holy? One becomes holy in the same way a musician gets to
Carnegie Hall: practice, practice, practice.
The doing is the becoming and the
becoming is the doing. Ultimately, the becoming and the doing become the “being,”
though that’s for another life when “faith
shall be sight.”[18]
That’s this life in microcosm.
[1]
The scriptural passage is a brilliantly inspired microcosm. This paper, alas has
become more cosmic than micro.
[2]
In the Hebrew, qadash, qaddish, or
kadosh; Greek, hagios; Latin, sanctus.
[3]
Strong, James, Strong’s Exhaustive
Concordance. (First published in 1890.)
[4]
Matthew 22:37-40, paraphrased quoting the Shema, Leviticus 19:18 and
Deuteronomy 6:4.
[5]
Lewis, C.S., The Problem of Pain.
[6]
Psalm 121:1,2. The Message.
[7]
Traditional or classical spiritual disciplines are variously enumerated and
classified. One such list the internal disciplines as meditation, prayer,
fasting, study, simplicity, and solitude The external disciplines in clued submission,
service, confession guidance, celebration. Salvation Army, Spiritual Life Development, http://www.sarmy.org.au/en/Ministry/Spiritual-Life-Development/Spiritual-Disciplines/
accessed July 17, 2014.
[8]
Isaiah 30:19; Matthew 7:7,8; 21:22; Mark 11:24; Luke 11:29; John 14:13;15:7; and
16:23.
[9]
The Walrus and the Carpenter, by
Lewis Carroll.
[10]
James 1:27.
[11]
Wright, N.T., Simply Jesus: A New Vision of Who He Was, What He Did, and Why
He Matters.(2011.)
[12]
Matthew 22:39; Mark 12:31.
[13]
Luke 1025-37.
[14]
Matthew 5:44; Luke 6:27.
[15]
James 1:22.
[16]
This modern-day aphorism may have its Genesis in Aristotle's notion that ”acting
virtuous will make one virtuous.”
[17]
I Peter 1:15, thus closing the circle, see page 1, supra.
[18]
Spafford, Horatio, It is Well with my
Soul, verse six.