Mark Johnston

Aligned

My car seems out of alignment often.  I don’t know if it’s because I live near lots of potholes or because I’m a less than great driver.  All I know is that when I let go of the wheel, it’s no longer headed straight – it veers off to the left or right.

My life seems out of alignment often as well.  I don’t know if it’s because I’m surrounded by lots of potholes or because I’m a less than great navigator.  All I know is that when I let go for a moment, step back to evaluate, I’m no longer headed the direction I wanted to go.  I’m veering off to the left or right.

When I’m in alignment spiritually, everything is good.

When I’m out of alignment spiritually, soon nothing is good.

What brings (and keeps) my life in alignment?

• Questing after the presence of God through spiritual disciplines.  When my day begins with time spent in focused pursuit of Christ, the hidden framework of my life is nudged back into position.  (Richard Foster’s Celebration of Discipline is the simplest, most exhilarating explanation of everyday spirituality I’ve found.  Buy it, read it, grow.)
• Submitting myself to life-giving friendships.  My exposure to the gaze of God while alone with him is complemented by doing life with others.  I’m convinced the depth of my spiritual growth is tied to the quality of my relationships.  Friends who are going the right direction spiritually help keep me aligned with God’s purpose and will; without their active involvement, I drift from his best.
• Sticking to the Plan.  I’m aligned with God when I do his will, not just in a moment of emotional capitulation or for a season of set-aside concentration, but day after day, year after year.  I’m good at making plans and keeping them – for awhile.  Then I get distracted, tired, impatient, selfish... and make a series of hasty decisions, outside of the timing of God.  Things stay straight when I’m resolute in my commitment to Christ and to the life he’s called me to live.

Alignment is present when my spiritual life is filled with depth and purpose.  It’s evident when my relationships are rich and vibrant, characterized by honesty and humility.  It’s there when my day to day decisions are guided by the gospel; when my life is moved forward by the mission of God.

If I quest after Christ, submit to Christ-like friends, and stick to a Christ-honoring plan, I’ll find I’m aligned more and more with God.  If I neglect the presence of God, ignore the people of God, and overlook the plan of God, it won’t be long until I’m headed off into oblivion, far from the destination I had in mind.

Set aside time tomorrow morning for God, hang with someone who’s growing this weekend, and get back on point with your plan.

No more veering.  It’s time to be aligned.

On Our Way To Perfect

Let’s clarify something, okay?  God wants you to go deeper in your faith.  He didn’t save you so he could move on to the next person.  He saved you so he could start something – a process of spiritual growth – that will ultimately lead you to perfection.

That’s right: perfection.

God is a perfectionist.  I can hear you protesting right now that there’s no way he can be.  If God were a perfectionist, he would never accept the likes of you and me.  But that’s just the thing: he doesn’t accept us.  Not as is, at any rate.  He accepts us solely on the basis of the blood of Jesus.  The message of the Bible is clear: we can’t be saved by our works.  Why?  Because nothing we could ever do would ever be good enough to merit God’s grace.  It wouldn’t be good enough because it wouldn’t be perfect. 

And God is a perfectionist.

I’m betting the thought makes you cringe.  Maybe because you work with or are married to a human perfectionist: a picky, petty person who always fails to see the forest because they’re busy hyperventilating over the condition of one particular tree.  Maybe due to growing up in a religious environment that expected you to be perfect: not from the work of the Holy Spirit in your life over time, but as a result of your own sadomasochistic efforts to please the people around you.

But don’t write the idea that God is a perfectionist off too quickly.  You’re probably comparing him to those who are drastically dissimilar to him in one important way:

They’re not perfect.

He is.  And because God is perfect, he’s the only one qualified to be a perfectionist.  Your legalistic friend isn’t.  Your disapproving parent isn’t.  Your hypocritical sister isn’t.  Only God gets the right to sweat the details at every level.

So he freely embraces that right, refusing to stop until his work is concluded.  He won’t quit shaping, blessing, or permitting productive pain over time in order to totally complete the project.

(And you’re the project.)

God wants you to be perfect.  That’s why he’s so relentless about challenging, instructing, directing, and convicting you.  Not because he’s mean or selfish or disillusioned about how imperfect you currently are; just because he’s committed to finishing what he started.  His job is to shape you.  Your job is to be shaped.  A little more today and tomorrow and the next day and the next… until you’re perfect.

Would you want it any other way?  Do you really want where you are now, spiritually, morally, mentally, and relationally, to be your destination?

If the growth has ground to a halt in your life, it’s probably not because God has given up on his goal.  It’s because you’ve forgotten that perfect is what you’re on your way toward.

^“But you are to be perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect” (Jesus in Matthew 5:48 – NLT).

I Just Wanna See It Fly

My daughter’s 10^th birthday is this Saturday.  When I was 10, I was into model rockets (and anything else with explosives involved).  You can imagine how happy I was when Madeline told me she wanted a rocket set.  She saw it in a hobby store and was ecstatic at the thought of firing off a projectile in our backyard.

So I went back later and bought it for her.  The whole shebang: two rockets, parachutes and parts, engines and igniters, the launch pad and controller.

I couldn’t wait until Saturday.  I gave it to her five days early.  I placed it proudly on the kitchen table in front of her, and thoroughly enjoyed her delight when she opened it.

Then I asked if she wanted to build one of the rockets, right then and there.  Of course!  We gathered all the supplies we needed (glue, masking tape, a hobby knife, sandpaper…) and got to work.

That statement requires modification: I got to work.

Madeline hung in there for a couple of minutes; but when it became clear that the art of rocketry goes slightly beyond a bang in the backyard, she opted out.  She sat in the other room and watched TV while I manufactured the missile.

This made me a little frustrated.  I’d given her an amazing gift!  Why wasn’t she participating in the process of putting it together?

There are two reasons. First, I’m hard to work with.  (That’s another blog for another time.)  But the second is this: like so many of us, she just wanted to see it fly.

Often, we don’t want to do the hard work of shaping attitudes and aptitudes that lead to success: we just want to see our careers fly.

We don’t want to steward our money for God’s glory, giving and saving and investing wisely: we just want to see our finances fly.

We don’t want to strengthen our marriages through sacrifice and selfless expressions of love and respect: we just want to see our relationships fly.

We don’t want to go through the process of praying intensely for something significant to happen: we just want to see our situations fly.

And because we have a kind and generous God, sometimes he builds it for us, and pulls us out in the backyard to watch it fly.

But other times he leaves the parts on the table until we’re ready to get involved in the process.

I sat at that table for an hour building the rocket.  Now it’s ready to roll.  This is one of those times when my daughter will get to simply see it fly.  But there’s a second model in the box that I won’t be assembling alone.  To see the next one soar, she’s going to have to build it.

Don't sit around and fantasize about God handing you everything ready-made.  Join your Father in the hard work of constructing something.  It'll feel much better when you finally see it fly.

Knowing God

Every fall, I spend a few days alone in a hotel room somewhere recalibrating my life. I slip away from the chaos of 21^st century existence to strengthen the spiritual center I need so desperately to survive.

On each of these occasions, I write down what it is I think my life is supposed to be about – as a follower of Jesus, a human being with relational and intellectual needs and potential, a husband, father, friend, spiritual leader, and servant to my neighborhood, community, and world.  I revisit values and set goals for another year of (hopeful) progress as a person of faith.

It starts with a single phrase, intended to guide all I am and do.  That phrase has been refined over several years until it has become:

To know God and reveal what I’ve discovered of him to others.

That is why I believe I’m on the planet.  And although the language may differ, it’s why I believe you are as well. 

The trouble is I’m finding this “knowing God” thing trickier than I’d assumed it would be.  It’s one thing to type it up as a lofty principle and aim; arranging my life around it has proven more elusive.  Sometimes I feel like I’m getting closer to understanding; at other times, I realize I’m laughably distant – as if knowing God were London and I’m stuck somewhere in South America trying to figure out what went wrong.

And yet I want to know him.  It’s a deep and persistent passion.  So how can an ordinary guy like me – and an ordinary person like you – know God? 

It seems to me that at the heart of such a deep connection lies a profound exclusivity.  Knowing God means a decision to pursue him to the potential neglect of anything or anyone else. 

And this is where we stumble.

The apostle Paul put it this way: everything else is worthless when compared with the infinite value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord (Philippians 3:8 – NLT).

To know God I have to begin with a willingness to know nothing else with any lingering loyalty.  To place him above all and before all.  It means that, For his sake I have discarded everything else, counting it all as garbage, so that I could gain Christ.

Perhaps the reason I end up somewhere else other than the hoped-for destination of knowing God is because I allow my attention – and devotion – to be distracted by something else. 

The success I’m tempted to pursue outside of Christ.

The religion I’m duped into thinking will save me.

The pleasure I’m sure I deserve in return for all the sacrifices I’ve made.

The fantasy life no one else knows I’m engaging in.

Like Paul, I want to know Christ.  And to know him is to seek him exclusively, to the disregard of all other priorities.

Do you know him?