Losing my religion

“Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.”[1]

“Whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it.”[2]

“Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.”[3]

For years I interpreted these passages simply as the need to sacrifice more. To give more generously and not to count the cost. To spend myself exhaustively in the service of others – and that is certainly a part of what they are about; as John the Baptist said “He must become greater; I must become less.”[4]

But, it raises a question: if Jesus is our example, then how much should I give? How much should we sacrifice? How much is enough?

“In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:

who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;

rather, he made himself nothing
by taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.

And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
by becoming obedient to death –
even death on a cross!”[5]

The answer appears clear; if Jesus is our example, then our only appropriate response is…unequivocally all.

As we sing in worship, “I surrender all”, “all to Jesus I surrender” and “all I have is yours”.

Yet, in this, I have failed. I haven’t surrendered all. In truth, I haven’t surrendered very much at all. I don’t live up to the words I sing in worship. Do you?

I surrender just enough, rather than all; I give what I can afford, as opposed to everything. Now, like Paul, I sometimes “want to want to”, but is a sung, aspirational faith enough?

In reality, there is always more we can give, more we could do. We can all give more money, and more time, until the day we are bankrupt, exhausted, homeless and martyred.

God forgive me. Maybe I’m just not radical enough, or zealous enough – maybe I’m just too comfortable. My life is one of inadequacy, so maybe I should feel guilty about not giving enough, (‘amen’ I hear you cry). There is a puritan in me somewhere who loves nothing more than a good dose of guilt and self-loathing – it’s good for the soul, or so I was taught.

But, what if there is another way to read some of these passages? A way that takes seriously God’s love for me as well as his love for others. That leads to the “life in all its fullness” Jesus spoke about. That incudes, but also transcends the interpretation above.

I reached this point a few years ago, having spent myself emotionally in ministry and run out of resources. There at rock bottom, with nothing left and yet still feeling guilty because I’d not given enough, I lost my faith. Or rather, I lost a particular faith understanding (although at the time – it felt like I’d lost my whole faith). From a place of brokenness, I began to explore the contemplative and Christian Mystical traditions. In these traditions I found a way out of the mental trap in which I’d snared myself.

I discovered that God loves me as well as other people. I discovered I am called to love my neighbour ‘as I love myself’, which presupposes that I love myself and this is ok! In a word, I discovered Grace. Over the last decade I have been healed, restored and faith has given me a second chance.

But I have had to look again at some of these hard scriptures – how am I to understand them, in the light of the gift of the reality of life, in the light of grace – something I preached for others, but didn’t apply to myself.

In the contemplative and Christian mystic tradition I found the writing of Thomas Merton, Richard Rohr and others.

These writers interpret that which must die differently; the “grain of wheat that must fall to the ground” is understood as “the ego”.

As Rohr writes:

“Since the twentieth century we have used the word ego (Latin for “I”) to describe this rather total identification with one’s own “single grain” as the reference point for life and perception.

All great spiritual teachers will tell you that your small self [the ego] is not the reference point for anything lasting or substantial at all, but only for a small memory bank of experiences, my feelings, and my temporary self-image—all too small and not a fitting reference point for big truth or reality.

The problem of “ego” … is an issue that cannot be dealt with by simply being “moral” about this or that, or joining the right group; but by a fundamental “dying” which almost all of us are afraid to do”

The ego is the self we project out to the world, it’s what distinguishes us from others, it is bound up in our looks, our education, our wealth or our possessions. Ego is earned, strived for, unreliable and ultimately temporary.

But as Merton writes:

“True Christianity is growth in the life of the Spirit, a deepening of the new life, a continuous rebirth, in which the exterior and superficial life of the ego-self is discarded like an old snake skin and the mysterious, invisible self of the Spirit becomes more present and more active.”

“The mysterious, invisible self of the Spirit” – I like that phrase – your true-self, that part of you that is made in the image of God. Who you are in God. Who you are when all the rest is stripped away. Eternal. Unearned. Gift. Grace.

If the small self (ego) is ‘doing’ then the true self is ‘being’.

This true self can’t be manufactured. It can’t be earned by work or by piety. It can only be discovered when all that ego noise and striving is put aside, shed like a snake skin. It is often fallen into. Accepted as a gift. Found in silence. Uncovered.

As Martin Buber puts it; it is located in the ‘I-Thou’ relationship, which for me only came to light when I was prepared to pray/meditate and be quiet long enough to hear it.[6]

Reflecting back, was all my faithful striving with the attendant feelings of guilt and failure the result of an ego driven faith? Is much of what passes for faith in the Evangelical tradition (which I was born into and of which I remain a part) in fact just striving and ‘works’ by another door. Are piety and puritanism just ways to convince ourselves, others and even God of our ‘lovability’?

It’s not that this view is entirely wrong – it’s probably that most of us need to go though it (transcend and include) – but just that it’s not the full truth. As we daily learn to shed the ego, to ‘die to self’, we find our value and self-worth in another source and with it we find a new freedom. To know that you are loved and that this love has nothing to do with your looks, wealth, health or education is liberation – it is a form of salvation. It quite possibly is the radical, counter-cultural, surprising path to ‘life in all its fullness’.

“Whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it.”[7]

I am learning that I am free to spend myself in the service of others or not; to give and not count the cost; to own possessions and not let them own me. To live from a place of security in God. From a place of choice. From a place of grace.

“Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies it remains a single grain, but if it dies it produces much fruit”. [8]

May you know the fruitfulness and freedom that comes from learning to die to your striving, from dying to your ego and discovering the true self of the Spirit that dwells within you.

Bless you,

Charlie Ingram
5th April 2016

As always, it would be a delight to chat/pray this through with you. If that would be helpful, please do get in touch.

Heartfelt thanks to Paul Sanders for the image, I’m a huge fan of Paul’s work, please do visit his website and buy lots of prints – paulsanders.biz
[1] Luke 9:23
[2] Matthew 16:25
[3] John 12:24
[4] John 3:30
[5] Philippians 2:5-8
[6] Here I want to be careful not to slip into Platonic Dualism, easily understood with the phrase “Spirit Good – Matter Bad”. It is not that the material life is bad and we must therefore reject materiality and instead embrace a better ascetic spiritual existence. The true-self, the soul, that which is in all of us and is made in the image of God, is material as well as spiritual. It includes, spiritual practices, but it also includes, blood, sweat, tears, work, wine, bread, song and dance. Incarnation and Resurrection both teach us that God values and loves this material world. It might be “fallen” but it is still his creation, sustained, redeemed and loved. What God made is not perfect but it is still good…. a blog for another day…
[7] Matthew 16:25
[8] John 12:24

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