I had the privilege of hearing Garrison Keillor perform live a few nights ago. Early in his performance he said something that was very clarifying for me. I can’t quote it, but he was talking about the sonnets that he memorized as a child and how, later in life, these structured elements have become more valued to him. He observed that as we grow older we become more endeared to structure and form. In our younger days we are drawn to randomness and flying this way and that.
I immediately knew what he meant. There is a fascination by younger people to find comfort in randomness. I have seen this especially in theology. Younger believers are entranced by a worldview which embraces wildly divergent “truths.” This worldview is not simply a syncretism of unorthodox views, but a casual collection of views that previously would never have been considered compatible standing along, let alone woven together. It produces a bizarre tapestry. And that tapestry is a constant work in progress, perhaps, after a time, barely resembling anything close to orthodoxy.
What I appreciate in this is the allowance of the dynamic nature of theology – not that truth changes, but that our understanding and application of it does. I also admire the ability to live with mystery, for God is a God of mystery and the obsession of many through the ages to define and systematize God has sometimes served to emasculate God of sovereignty to a degree. A bent, however, toward preferring randomness has also led to some rather unbiblical, even anti-biblical, beliefs. While we must be comfortable with mystery as a basic element of God’s nature, we must never be so enamored of it that we choose it when clear truth stands ready to be grasped.
At the other end of the theological scale reclines the older folks in churches (not all of these are chronologically older, but all are spiritually aged) who resist change and insist that if it is not done the way it has always been done, we have adopted heresy. Often these older ones (note how I haven’t yet aligned myself with this demographic?) conveniently forget that in years previous they were the ones on the cutting edge of change and were in tension with their elders who have long since passed away.
I am increasingly appreciative of the security that is provided to older adults when the church holds fast to certain traditions. In the world around them they see constant change. Everyday they are pressed to keep up with innovation that will make their life easier, and they are looking for some place to provide some bedrock amid the shifting sands. Their local church is often the only place that offers that hope. When that unchanging refuge becomes fluid in terms of music styles, authority structures, schedules, ministry objectives, programming, and architectural appearance, they panic and fear that all is being reduced to rubble and quicksand.
And yet, as I age, I hope to maintain a balance between the importance of change and the value of tradition. I have acquired a taste for structure. Flying by the seat of my pants spiritually doesn’t cut it anymore. I need set times, places and habits to keep my soul sharp and strong.
And this growing hunger for structure is, I believe, one of the marks of God’s image in us. In contrast to the world around us, God moves from chaos to order. Even in original creation, the chaos was invaded by the structured power of God – dividing light and darkness, separating water from land, declaring day and night. Could it be that, as we age in Him, we grow a heart that values order?
At the same time, God is a being of mystery. His character and purposes do not change, but His processes are often unpredictable. His Spirit is unpredictable, Jesus said (see John 3), but He is, simultaneously, a Being of order. God can be mysterious and unpredictable in our sight (He is not mysterious or unpredictable to Himself, as though He exists and accomplishes with randomness and does not know what He will do next), but human beings do so at great risk. We must be willing to be ordered by God’s Spirit. This is precisely the paradoxical truth of Galatians 5:23 which declares the final facet of Spirit-fruit as “self control.” We are ordered within ourselves, but not by ourselves. God provides the structure of His Spirit. We control the self by surrendering and choosing to not control ourselves. We give the reins to the Spirit of God in us.
Trusting the governance of God’s truth, will and Spirit will take us in directions of mystery and structure, but never down paths of randomness. In the places where order is obvious, I will embrace God’s structure. And when God’s plan is ambiguous, I will trust His certainty to hold me close. In either condition, my faith-steps lead to maturing health, not aging decay.
God has graciously given me the structures of spiritual disciplines to help me find order in the midst of a universe in decay. I values these more every day. They enable me to navigate the phases of life which mysteriously shift beneath my feet, serving as an anchor of His sovereign wisdom. Paradoxically, I can live more comfortably with mystery and the unknown/unknowable because I have those other places which are solid and established. My house, when built on the rock, will stand.
