Spiritual Maturity

“‘Now your impurity is lewdness. Because I tried to cleanse you but you would not be cleansed from your impurity, you will not be clean again until my wrath against you has subsided.’”
Ezekiel 24:13 (NIV)

As I reflect back on my life journey, there are seasons of the journey that stand out for their pain and struggle. There was the season of my prodigal-like rebellious behavior and the painful pig-slop-like consequences of those mistakes. There was the season of my divorce which created pain on multiple levels of life and relationships. There was also the season of Wendy’s and my journey through infertility.

The truth is that each of these seasons were crucial periods of spiritual growth for me. There were lessons that I learned about faith, trust, perseverance, patience, forgiveness, repentance, and grace that I would not have learned any other way.

There is no way around the fact that human spiritual progress requires pain. Conversely, a life of ease and affluence is a surefire recipe for spiritual immaturity. And a related truth is what M. Scott Peck discovered in his research for The People of the Lie: evil only responds to the power of blunt force.

I found today’s chapter is fascinating on multiple levels. It is Ezekiel’s last chapter of doom-and-gloom judgment against God’s own people. The object and theme of his prophetic messages changes from this point on. Back in chapter 3, God made Ezekiel mute other than when he was given a prophetic message. With word that his prophecies concerning the Babylonian siege of Jerusalem had indeed come to pass, God frees Ezekiel’s lips from being muted (kind of like John the Baptist’s dad, Zechariah, in Luke 2).

I also found a connection in today’s chapter to a message I’m preparing to deliver to my local gathering of Jesus’ followers this Sunday. God tells His people through Ezekiel that their exile and Jerusalem’s downfall is like a metallurgist’s fire that refines and purifies the precious metal “so that its impurities may be melted and its deposit burned away.”

This is exactly the same metaphor that Peter picked up on when he wrote in his first letter to believers scattered across the Roman empire by persecution:

In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.
1 Peter 1:6-7 (NIV)

Just like Ezekiel’s message, Peter sees that trials in life are God’s version of a refiner’s fire. I struggle, I cry out, I pray, I mourn, I even scream. Yet the entire process is teaching me what is truly important, how much I need God, how to trust the Story God is telling in and through me, and how to endure.

If you want to find someone with spiritual maturity don’t look for an adult trust fund child who has lived in extravagant affluence since the day he was born and has never worked a day in his life. If you want find spiritual maturity, look for the individual whose life has sent them to hell and back. You’re far more likely to find it there.

In the quiet this morning, I’m uttering a prayer of praise and thanks for the seasons of pain and struggle I’ve been through and for all the ways that they have spiritually refined me. And, like Paul states in his letter to the believers in Philippi, I’m not saying that I have already obtained some pinnacle of spiritual maturity. Far from it. I’m sure that there are seasons of struggle to come, and deeper spiritual lessons to learn. And so, “I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.”

And so, I enter another day on the journey.

Have a great weekend, friend.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

This is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says: ‘If you are determined to go to Egypt and you do go to settle there, then the sword you fear will overtake you there, and the famine you dread will follow you into Egypt, and there you will die.
Jeremiah 42:15b-16 (NIV)

Wendy and I were once cast in a production that was eery little story about a young couple being stuck in a myriad of ways. We did not play the couple, but were rather part of a dream-like menagerie that revealed the couple’s true relational issues.

In the course of the story, Wendy’s character confronts the young woman, who keeps trying to run away in fear. No matter where she runs, however, the young woman runs right into Wendy.

That show came to mind as I read today’s chapter, in which the small contingent of former soldiers who took vengeance out on the rogue Ishmael and his gang of assassins in yesterday’s chapter, now ask Jeremiah to pray for them as they plan to flee with their families to Egypt in fear of Nebuchadnezzar, the King of Babylon’s wrath.

God’s answer through Jeremiah was not what the contingent wanted to hear.

Jeremiah tells the group that they must do the hard thing. Stay, stand firm, and face the consequences with the Babylonian overlord. Yes, the same King of Babylon who just destroyed Jerusalem, killed countless numbers of their fellow citizen, and took most of the other residents captive. “Trust Me,” God says. “Have faith that the King of Babylon will do the right thing, and I will make sure that every little thing is gonna be alright.”

What I really found fascinating was the next part of God’s word through Jeremiah. He tells the contingent that if they flee to Egypt (and it sounds like God knows they’re going to do it anyway) then all the things that they are running from are the very things they will run into in the land of the pyramids. Their flight would be futile.

In the quiet this morning, I find myself thinking back to the stretches of my journey in which a ran from different things. There have been times when I ran out of fear of a conflict or confrontation. There have been times when I ran away from facing up to my own mistakes or poor choices. Other times I have run away from doing the hard thing and instead sought out an easy alternative. As a follower of Jesus, however, I have found that God’s economy works just like the device in that production. No matter where I run or how far I run, God is there asking me to face the very thing I fear. As David put it in Psalm 139:

Where can I go from your Spirit?
    Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
    if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
    if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
    your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
    and the light become night around me,”
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
    the night will shine like the day,
    for darkness is as light to you.

Time and time again in the Great Story God reveals that His purpose is a relationship with me in which I grow into intimacy and spiritual maturity. That growth curve requires growing pains, struggle, trials, and even suffering. This is the exact opposite of culture and the human condition that continue convincing me that things on this life journey should be easy, comfortable, pleasurable, free of pain, full of fun, and always lucrative. The more I’ve learned to trust God in my trials, the more I’ve come to acknowledge the futility of my fleeing whatever it is that I don’t want to face. When I trust God to stand and face whatever it is I’m afraid of the less time and energy I waste fleeing from whatever it is that I’m only going to run into again and again and again.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.