“And we desire each one of you to show the same earnestness to have the full assurance of hope until the end, so that you may not be sluggish, but imitators of those who through faith and patience inherit the promises.”

Hebrews 6:11-12

The Extraordinarily Ordinary Spirit

Photo by Pablo Heimplatz on Unsplash

I place a high value on the ordinary means of grace. The ordinary means of grace are those things that God has given as regular, often non-spectacular, rhythmic events that form and shape our spiritual lives. They are the slow dripping of water to erode a rock, the steady flywheel of an engine that keeps it turning over, the things that make an almost imperceptible difference in a snapshot moment, but have a cumulative effect over long periods of time.

One example of this is the Lord’s Supper. I would advocate for it to be taken weekly when the church gathers, and indeed for most of my Christian life that’s exactly what I have done, and I cherish it. Due to our move overseas, spending a couple of weeks at a church that we weren’t keen on and that did not share the Lord’s Supper, we missed having the bread and wine for five weeks. Yesterday we finally had it in our new church, and I was bowed down with joy. The repetitive reminder of Christ’s death on my behalf, the covenant in which I now live, and the future hope of his return, shapes me on a weekly basis.

This is a very distinct example of an ordinary means of grace. Other distinct examples would be the preaching of the Word, fellowship, prayer, other spiritual disciplines, liturgical items in the Scriptures, etc. I am perhaps a little liberal in my use of the term, seeing many other more “mundane” things included in that. Things such as actions of sacrificial love or service, consistency of work ethic in all areas of life, etc. God has given many “ordinary” things to shape us, and we ought to press into those as much as possible to see change effected in our lives and the lives of others.

However, I was convicted tonight of the danger that can exist with an emphasis on the ordinary means of grace. Unable to sleep, I started in my mind to work out many solutions to issues around me. Many of my solutions seem commendable and would fall into the broad category of seeing change effected through the ordinary means of grace. They were practical solutions, the kind that were achievable, and the kind that surely would work out an answer for me.

Then it struck me. I was using the ordinary means of grace as a cover for acting in the flesh. I think it is probably since my long period of doubt (of which I wrote recently) that I started falling into this way of thinking. In order to maintain a trust in God, yet protect my fragile heart from further disappointment, I pressed into the ordinary means of grace as not simply the primary mode of effective change, but often the sole mode. It was less risky to plug into doing something myself, with the confidence that over time change would happen, than to expect God to actually do something incredible, even without my involvement other than prayer. And in so doing, rather than having Spirit-infused rhythmic actions, I ended up on so many occasions with a veneer of faith over a trembling act of the flesh.

The reality is that there is a tension between the ordinary and extraordinary work of the Spirit of God, between the regular and the irregular, the rhythmic and the spontaneous. And in my own life, as in many theological camps, we fail to maintain that balance at all. We either trust the Spirit to only do miraculous works all day long, without taking any heed of his patient work through the mundane things of life, or else we trust him to do work over long periods through his appointed means, without ever expecting him to turn up and do something miraculous.

It comes with the tension between being satisfied with the indwelling, sealing, sanctifying work of the Spirit that we know is there because of the New Covenant, and dissatisfaction with our experience of him and wanting more. Ought we be merely satisfied, not seeking more, or dissatisfied, not trusting in what is already true?

The truth is that stone can be eroded by centuries of the steady drumming of water against it or be cut in two by a high pressure water jet in a moment. An engine needs a flywheel to keep its momentum going, but it also needs a turbocharger to give it a boost. It is a hard balance to maintain, but may we strive to have a desire for both works of the Spirit in our lives, the ordinary and the extraordinary, without letting the former become a veneer for the flesh and lack of faith that God can deal with a situation, and without letting the latter become an excuse for disbelief or dissatisfaction at what has already been revealed to us in the Word of God.

After writing a more personal version of the above in my journal, I went to pray and took up my copy of The Valley of Vision, a book of Puritan prayers, to guide me as I prayed. This is the prayer found on page 52:

God the Spirit

O LORD God,

I pray not so much for graces as for the Spirit himself, because I feel his absence, and act by my own spirit in everything.

Give me not weak desires but the power of his presence, for this is the surest way to have all his graces, and when I have the seal I have the impression also;

He can heal, help, quicken, humble suddenly and easily, can work grace and life effectually, and being eternal he can give grace eternally.

Save me from great hindrances, from being content with a little measure of the Spirit, from thinking thou wilt not give me more.

When I feel my lack of him, light up life and faith, for when I lose thee I am either in the dark and cannot see thee, or Satan and my natural abilities content me with a little light, so that I seek no further for the Spirit of life.

Teach me then what to do.

Should I merely humble myself and not stir up my heart?

Should I meditate and use all means to bring him near, not being contented by one means, but trust him to give me a blessing by the use of all, depending only upon, and waiting always for, thy light, by use of means?

Is it a duty or an error to pray and look for the fullness of the Spirit in me?

Am I mistaken in feeling I am empty of the Spirit because I do not sense his presence within, when all the time I am most empty and could be more full of faith in Christ?

Was the fullness of the Spirit in the apostles chiefly a power, giving subsistence outside of themselves in Christ, in whom was their life and joy?

Teach me to find and know the fullness of the Spirit only in Jesus.

Amen


Discover more from Imitators of Those

Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.


Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *