Students struggle to write an exhortation in a centered way. If one has a lifetime of hearing exhortations given in a bounded context of conditional acceptance and peppered with “shoulds” and “oughts” it is difficult to even imagine another way. As I read their papers, I had the thought, “what if the way we exhort others reflects our internal conversations—how we tell ourselves what to do and not do?” Perhaps students’ papers reflect not just what they have heard in bounded churches, but how they talk to themselves internally. How to change that internal conversation?
Two months ago I wrote of the importance of washing away the toxins of religiosity that attach themselves to internal directives through regular showers of words of God’s unconditional love. This month I will briefly share what I have observed when I set out to apply internally what I teach students to do in their exhortations, to link commands to words of God’s action, like: having been loved by God, love others.
As a first step in this process I started paying more attention to my internal commands. There were a few “should” or “oughts.” What most caught my attention, however, was the paucity of internal imperatives. For instance, I do not actually give myself a command, “Mark, go to jail and lead a Bible study.” Or, “Mark, you should write a check to put in the offering at church.” I just do those things. I suppose I could consider my daily activity of prioritizing tasks a form of internal commands, but command language tends to only show up around the margins of that. Not, “Mark, you should get ready for class” I don’t have to tell myself that; but more probably, “Mark, you should respond to that e-mail that has been sitting in your in-box.”
I had not expected this, but a significant part of my experiment was inserting actual command language where it was totally lacking. (I couldn’t link an indicative to a command, if there was no command there.)
I intended to link indicatives of God’s action to all my commands. Some came relatively easily, “As we have received so much from God and the people of God, let us share with others. Write a check.” And I found myself using one, or a variation of it, repeatedly in different situations. “Having experienced liberation from shame through Jesus’ loving embrace, invite others into that experience.” Yet, I did not easily find linking indicatives for most commands. That is not to say, however, that the experiment failed. Let me bring you into one experience to give you a sense of its fruit.
Monday evenings presented me multiple opportunities for this exercise. We have a small non-profit, Vida en Shalom, through which we raise donations to support small grassroots ministries in Honduras and Peru. Monday evening is the time my wife Lynn and I set aside to work on Vida en Shalom tasks. We start by talking over what is calling for attention, saying things like: “I need to send the monthly report to our treasurer.” “One of us should respond to Arely’s e-mail.” “I will send money to Gustavo.” “It has been awhile since we wrote to donors.” “If there is time, I will call Doña Ena.” I made some attempts at linking these commands to an indicative of God’s action but did not get much further than a: “You have been loved, love others.”
Soon, I found myself putting less effort into making those indicative linked commands. I did, however, continue to work at connecting the commands to God and discipleship. I found myself asking, “Mark, why are you doing this?” Why do you give your Monday evenings to this? And more specifically, why this particular Monday-evening action? And I started asking “why?” not just when there was an actual command like on Monday evenings, but at other times as well—like during my bike ride to the county jail, preparing for a class, or turning on my computer for a morning of working on my book on centered church. I would reflect on why and then articulate a command that included a sense of the why. Each time I did that I felt like my roots were reaching out, connecting to rich composted-soil. Reflecting on the “why,” even if just for a moment, brought additional energy, an added sense of purpose, and a more intentional connection with the Spirit of Jesus.
So, what happened from my experiment? A bit of what I expected, toning down a some “shoulds” and a few moments of reframing that flowed from indicatives of God action. But most prominently, the fruit was, first, an awareness that so much of what I do is like being on autopilot. It is on my to-do list and I do it. And then, secondly, the fruit was the enriching benefit that flows from reconnecting those tasks and activities with their source, God, my commitment to the way of Jesus, and experiences that have shaped me and my convictions.
This was my experience. Yours will likely be different. I invite you to try the experiment. Review the few paragraphs on different kinds of indicatives in this blog, apply them to your internal conversations, and see what fruit it brings.