The Scaffolding of Obedience
““Why do you call me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I say? As for everyone who comes to me and hears my words and puts them into practice, I will show you what they are like. They are like a man building a house, who dug down deep and laid the foundation on rock. When a flood came, the torrent struck that house but could not shake it, because it was well built. But the one who hears my words and does not put them into practice is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. The moment the torrent struck that house, it collapsed and its destruction was complete.””
It’s a New Year, which means new goals and resolutions for a new you. It has become wearying, this effortful reinvention of oneself year after year.
We’ve all heard the statistics that project most New Year’s resolutions to fall off after nine days (or twelve, or twenty). The flip of a calendar page inspires us to do better than the year before. We identify the things we’d like to change, and we set goals to eliminate those lingering bad habits. We try to remake ourselves, only to realize that we are still ourselves, we inhabit the same body we always have, and we have not become princesses, superstars, pro athletes, or CEOs overnight.
Unless, of course, you were that before the clock struck midnight.
We all want transformation; we want to turn our pumpkins into carriages and our rags into sparkling ball gowns.
Translation: We want to be skinnier, wealthier, prettier, fitter, and more attractive.
Have you stopped to think why we might want to be skinnier, wealthier, prettier, fitter, and more attractive? Some people cite health and longevity; they want to spend more years with loved ones. Others simply want what we all think popularity will gain for us: love and acceptance.
If I were only skinnier, wealthier, prettier, fitter, and generally more attractive, perhaps they would love me. Perhaps I would be accepted. Perhaps I would finally feel like I belong and be happy.
The pursuit of happiness is the subject of many philosophical and artistic musings.
From a Christian worldview, happiness is found in just one person—Jesus Christ. I hesitate to say this, not because it is untrue, but because this very phrase has been used to spiritually manipulate many a lonely person into believing that they are unfaithful if they long for physical love from real human beings rather than from Christ alone. This is not my intent.
However, the words of Jesus quoted above reveal that he is the foundation of our faith. It is true that human beings are social creatures and need love, acceptance, community, and belonging; Jesus’ words in the Sermon on the Mount declare just that:
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are those who are merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will see God.
Each of these blessings (which can be translated as “happiness to those who…”) proclaims a relational existence; we are blessed (happy) when we extend blessings to others. This is the life that Christ taught and encouraged his followers to live. These are the words (among others) that he exhorted them to practice.
Following Jesus takes practice. It requires doing, not just listening. Many people listened to his teachings, but just a few put them into practice. Doing what Jesus taught is called obedience.
We don’t like the word “obedience” today. Parents no longer enforce obedience, but try to listen to and understand their children in relational, gentle parenting. It’s a pendulum swing from the blind obedience taught to millennials by boomer parents. As a result, millennials hate obedience.
And yet, isn’t obedience necessary for societal functioning? We obey traffic laws (mostly) and civil rights laws (usually). We obey the authority of the policeman because we fear retribution if we don’t. We obey the government when they send us our tax notices because if we don’t, well, that could end poorly. These forms of obedience are marked mostly by fear—fear of what could happen if you don’t obey.
Obedience to Jesus, however, is marked by a desire to be more like our Master. We are apprentices, one and all, and if we long to follow him, to be like him, we do as he did. We listen to his words, and we do it.
This sort of obedience is not blind, nor is it based on fear. It is based on love for our Lord and our fellow humans. There is a long goal in mind here—a new creation and full restoration of all the brokenness that we’ve ever known; this is the hope in Christ, and this is why we obey him.
We build our hopes on solid rock, knowing that his words will endure. We begin the New Year with the hope and faith that the Spirit will not leave us unchanged, and that through our steadfast obedience, we will become more like our Christ.
Transformation happens slowly. It happens when we are confronted with a choice, and we choose the way of Jesus rather than the way of self. It happens as we spend time in Scripture and prayer each day, yearning for the words of our Teacher and Friend. We are changed people when we build habits of kindness, gentleness, prayer, stillness, friendship, attentiveness, and curiosity.
Transformation is the result of the habits of obedience that scaffold our lives. We are each building a life that will last for eternity in Jesus Christ; what will that life look like? As a wise person once said, our habits form words, our words form actions, and our actions build character; what are your habits building?
May you reflect on your habits—not in an effort to remake yourself, but to reorient yourself to the things that matter most in life. This requires some soul-searching. What do you want the cathedral of your life to look like, and how can you build habits and practices of obedience to get to where you want to be?
By the grace and power of the Spirit, let it be so.
Photo by Ricardo Gomez Angel on Unsplash
