Training

June 11, 2021

One of the benefits of taking seriously the spiritual disciplines of prayer, Scripture reading, fasting, worship, and receiving communion is that they are the tools God uses to sustain us in time of need. In fifty years of ministry, I’ve officiated at enough funerals to be able to easily distinguish between those who faithfully engaged the disciplines and those who did not. Both would profess the same faith, but only those who were faithful in the disciplines were able to walk through the fire without getting burned.

In the face of death, everyone is a believer, or at least wants to be. I’m sure there are die-hard atheists who endure their loss stoically; perhaps their unbelief shields them from some of the pain of their loss, but too often I’ve watched people desperately wanting the comfort of a faith to which they only gave lip service. They speak of their loved one in glowing terms as having joined mother or father, or spouse in heaven, but the assurance of eternal life is missing. On the other hand, I’ve watched family members rejoicing over the legacy of godly parents, or a faithful spouse with complete confidence that the one they love is basking in the glories of the Presence of Christ. The difference? The latter knows the strength of spiritual discipline.

Spiritual disciplines are like physical training. It’s the training, not the trying, that wins the contest. Even if I tried my hardest, I couldn’t bench press 300 pounds. To be honest, I’m pretty sure I couldn’t press 200, and possibly even 150. But I know people who can…because they trained to do it. If I tried to grapple with my son or grandson, or even my granddaughter, I would lose, not because they’re stronger than me, but because they have trained in jiu-jitsu. On the other hand, I can beat them all at playing the bass! 

Training equips us. Spiritual disciplines are the training that equips us for life. So when yesterday and today went sideways, it didn’t throw me to the ground and stomp on my head. When Linda woke at 5:00 am sobbing with pain, I wasn’t able to take the time I normally have to read my Bible and pray. Most of the day was spent at the doctor’s office and getting prescriptions; the rest was an unexpected call from granddaughter Jo needing a ride to softball practice, and a call from friends who need some bees removed from their attic. Reading my Bible and praying aren’t an obligation, a talisman that must be followed for good luck. They are my training for such days as this, and I am grateful tonight for the faith and confidence the other days of training have given me for today.