OK – so you don’t like questions (but thanks, Jeremy, for the unexpected direction of your answers). In that case, I’ll make up some of the answers that seem true for many Christians (in spite of the pronouns I’m not really talking about myself personally here).
Parts of me I include when I think of my relationship with God:
- - my intentional worshipping self (i.e. most of us would give our conscious primary allegiance to God when we think about it)
- - my major moral decision-making self (i.e. most of us would think of what God would have us do when considering [not] cheating on our taxes, stealing from the neighbours, or lying to our spouse)
- - my overall flavour for my family culture self (i.e. most of us would want our kids to grow up with Christian values)
Parts of me I often don’t include when I think of my relationship with God:
- - my eating & self-care self (i.e. do we think of how God would encourage us to eat and otherwise take care of our bodies?)
- - my consumer and financial self (i.e. the whole 100% part not just the 10% part – do we think of how [and how much] God would want us to buy stuff or how or whether we invest or save?)
- - my work self (i.e. do we think of what we do at work as part of our service to God?)
- - my entertainment self (i.e. do we converse with God about the methods and content of how we amuse ourselves?)
- - my sexual self (i.e. do we think of the life-giving implications for what God intends with the gift of our sexuality?)
I think one of the reasons that we tend (by default) to exclude many of these latter parts is that we have a lingering belief that it would be really annoying to think of what God wants in all of these areas. We may think of a lot of “thou shalt not’s” or as if it were the spiritual equivalent of a lot of annoying bureaucratic paperwork. How often do we think that including these parts of ourselves in our more intentional spiritual lives would actually encourage and empower us to more joyful and life-giving choices? Is that not the point (Jesus: “I came that you may have life, and have it abundantly.”)?
I think it is usually both very exciting and frustrating to try to make all of life relevant to our relationships with God. Exciting because it gives all of life meaning and possibility; frustrating because idealism creeps in when we struggle with making this practical, especially when we try it alone.
Just as an example of what this means to me: I believe that one of the most spiritual choices that I make (by which I don’t necessarily mean the most moral but where I struggle very directly with God about what I am called to do here) is not to invest in mutual funds. I think corporate greed, violence and domination make up probably the single biggest spiritual issue of our day – corporations are the Rome, Babylon and Egypt of modern prophetic faith. This isn’t to say that any corporate investing is wrong – if I had the time and energy I’d be tempted to try to buy shares in a company and then use the shareholder voice to bring change. And not that I’m doing much better by leaving my money in a bank account (where it still probably helps corporations use my money for evil). So I am somewhat frustrated at my parked RRSP funds, but my choice to wait feels right and I believe that one day soon God will show me a life-giving use for these resources.
Here’s my suggestion for you. If there is one of the areas listed under “parts of me I often don’t include,” then experiment with more intentionally bringing some of that area into discussion with God. Expect something positive to come from it (maybe with just a bit of frustration too).
One Comment
Okay, so you chose my number 1 (not include) as your number 1. Pooh!