It occurs to me that it’s typically pretty easy to be a good Christian when you’re at some form of church retreat. You play some holy dodge ball (or Ping-Pong or Four Square), you go for a hike, you sing the worship songs, you dig into Scripture, you pray for and with your friends, and by the time you leave, you’re all Yay, God! I am so on fire for Jesus, y’all! Would someone like to go riding around so we can sing “Oceans” at the top of our lungs?
But then you go home, and real life hits. You find out that your little sister “borrowed” your favorite sweater for the twenty-fourth time. Your parents want to talk about that C you have in biology. You remember that you have an essay due, and you haven’t even figured out the topic you’re going to write about yet. You’re annoyed.
And then you’re at lunch the next day, and there’s a conversation about a political candidate or a controversial issue, and you just lose it. You are so frustrated, in fact, that the word enraged comes to mind. And when you consider everything that’s happened in the seventeen or eighteen hours since you left the retreat, you think, Well, Jesus does not appear to be on the premises. He has in fact left the building. And it is probably because He overheard me arguing about some political crisis, and He took issue with my tone.
That tension between spiritual highs and real life can be something else, can’t it? And to be perfectly clear: it’s always going to be a thing. It just is. It’s the intersection of the vertical life (the stuff that goes on between us and God) and the horizontal life (the stuff that goes on as we attempt to live out our faith in the world). If we could live a perfect cross-centered, cross-driven life in our own strength, we would have no need for Jesus. Jesus was and is and will be the only way—the only Way—to bridge the gap between the horizontal and the vertical. We can’t do it on our own.
So if I could, let me encourage you a little bit today:
- It’s good that you’re aware of the tension. In fact, it’s huge. That awareness is your assurance that the Holy Spirit is convicting you and prompting you in the most mundane parts of real life. It’s assurance that you don’t need a cathedral to hear from Him. It’s assurance that you’re not okay to just let your faith go sideways in the real world. Jesus is at work in you.
- You’re never going to get it exactly right. We’re all desperately imperfect, and we’re all sinners. And if you’re thinking, Well, that’s not very encouraging, I promise it actually is. Because when we get a glimmer of real life that feels as much like worship to us as our time singing in a sanctuary, we know that can only be the power of Jesus at work in us. He does what we can’t. He does what we wouldn’t apart from His ongoing grace in our lives. He’s bridging the gap for us.
- Jesus never stops teaching us. Think of the most patient teacher you’ve ever had. Then multiply that level of patience by a thousand. Then square it. And quadruple it. You still aren’t anywhere close to the level of patience Jesus has with us. He’s going to continue to convict you, refine you, and call you higher. He knows that resolving the tension between the vertical and horizontal is lifelong work for us, but He’s committed to the process. He’s committed to you.
Thank Him for His patience today.
1. When you think of times you’ve been on the spiritual mountaintop, so to speak, what comes to mind?
2. Have you ever been aware of how your real-life faith can look very different than those mountaintop moments? Explain.
3. Do you ever battle feelings of hypocrisy when it comes to your faith? Why? How do you handle that?
4. Look up John 1:16. Write, doodle, or illustrate it here.
Today’s Prayer