We move now to talk about discipline and means of grace. In my definition of Spiritual Form I chose words very carefully – Listen again: “and appropriating by commitment, discipline and action.” Our discipline is armed at cultivating an awareness of the indwelling Christ. Paul’s words to the Romans make it clear. Listen to Paul in Rom. 12:1-2:

“I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God what is good and acceptable and perfect” (Rom. 12:1, 2).

Those of us in the Methodist/Wesleyan tradition, have an equal and zealous emphasis on personal and social holiness. Our founder, John Wesley, said, “As tenacious of inward holiness as a mystic, of outward holiness as a Pharisee.”

Now neither the mystic nor the Pharisee was a model championed by Wesley. Yet at times he came near the edge of mysticism, and certainly a good part of his life would reflect the model of a Pharisee who knew the law impeccably, and sought diligently to keep it.

To put the two together in this fashion, I believe, is one of those flashes of genius that come out now and then in Wesley’s writings. “As tenacious of inward holiness as a mystic, of outward holiness as a Pharisee.” That is a picture we can live with and build upon. It’s a picture to hold in our minds, as we think about the place of discipline in the Christian life, and of the meaning of grace as channels of growth and power.

In her usual disarmingly honest and challenging way, Mother Teresa painted the picture clearly in her confession: “Pray for me that I not loosen my grip on the hands of Jesus even under the guise of ministering to the poor.”

Doesn’t that say it’? Isn’t that our primary calling as Christians? Isn’t that the only way we will get on in being the disciples Jesus calls us to be gripping the hands of Jesus with such firmness that we can’t help but follow His lead?

Following Him in that fashion requires discipline. Also, Christ and the church provide means of grace that assist us in the process, and that’s our focus now: discipline and means of grace.

DISCIPLINE IS ESSENTIAL

Scripture, especially the New Testament, is replete with calls to a disciplined life.

This is the process of sanctification or we may call it spiritual formation.

Spiritual discipline, opening ourselves to the shaping power of the indwelling Christ, we grow into the likeness of Christ. It was one of Wesley’s primary concerns and a distinctive emphasis of the early Methodist movement - that the mind of Christ grows in us.

Wesley preached an interesting sermon in 1778 entitled, “The Work of God in North America.” In it, he sought to describe the various dispensations of divine providence in the American colonies as far back as 1736. In the sermon, Wesley commented on the preaching of George Whitefield, which was one of the major contributing factors to the First Great Awakening in America. On Whitefield’s last journey to America, the evangelist lamented that many had drawn back into perdition. Taking note of that, Wesley sought to account for this “falling away.” This was his telling statement:

And what wonder? For it was a true saying, which was common in the ancient church, “The soul and the body make a man; and the spirit and discipline make him a Christian. But those who were more or less affected by Mr. Whitefield’s preaching had no discipline at all. They had no shadow of discipline; nothing of the kind. They were formed into no societies. They had no Christian connection with each other, nor were they ever taught to watch over each other’s souls. So that if they fell into luke-warmness, or even into sin, he had none to lift him up. He might fall lower and lower, yea into hell, if he would; for who regarded it? (Sermon, ‘The Works of God in North America” Jackson, Works, 7:411).

There are few more insightful quotations of Wesley than this. It clearly shows his feeling about the necessity for discipline in the Christian life.

Wesley put a great emphasis on proclaiming the gospel, as did Whitefield. He never diminished preaching and teaching the Word. But he insisted upon the discipline of gathering with a class or a band. As the Methodist movement became more established, Wesley noted the deterioration of this discipline, and he warned against it: “Never omit meeting your class or band; never absent yourself from any public meeting. These are the very sinews of our Society; and whatever weakens or tends to weaken our regard for these, or our exactness in attending them, strikes at the very root of our community. The private weekly meetings for prayer, examination, and particular exhortation has been the greatest means of keeping and confirming every blessing that was received by the word preached and diffusing it to others. .. . Without this religious connection and intercourse the most ardent attempts, by mere preaching, have proved no lasting use” (Jackson, Works, 11:433).

Now there are some warnings to be sounded. We must guard against turning our disciplines into an end To be disciplined is not the goal; the goal is to stay close to Christ, to keep our lives centered in Him. We must guard against falling into a salvation-by-works pattern. Grace and faith are still the key. We are not saved by disciplines; we are saved by grace through faith.

This leads to our next concern: the means of grace. If we are to mature into wholeness, “to the measure of the full stature of Christ” (Eph. 4:13), if we are going to “put on all the armor which God provides” (Eph. 6:11, NEV), then we must avail ourselves of the “means of grace” which Christ and the church provide.

Means of grace is a phrase used by Christians to describe the channels through which God’s grace is conveyed to us. By “means of grace,” Wesley meant “outward signs, words or actions, ordained by God, and appointed for this end, to be the ordinary channels whereby He might convey to man, preventing, justifying, or sanctifying grace.”

Wesley never limited God’s grace to these means, nor should we. God may use myriad ways of bestowing grace upon us. Yet, there are some specific ways that God enables us to grow in grace. In his sermon on “The Means of Grace,” Wesley insisted that the means of grace had no power within themselves. They were means, and using them did not guarantee growth. Use of them was not to be legalistic and mechanical, but as an opening of ourselves to God’s activity in our lives.

Wesley divided these ordinary means of grace into two categories:

Instituted means of grace, or works of piety; and

Prudential means of grace, or works of mercy.

The instituted means of grace, or works of piety were prayer, scripture, the Lord’s Supper, fasting, and Christian conferencing.

The importance Wesley placed in this means of grace can be seen in two remarks he made. On occasion, he stated that “preaching like an apostle without joining together those that are awakened and training them up in the ways of God, is only begetting children for the murderer.” This was his opinion after a visit of Pembrokeshire where there were no regular societies. His evaluation was that “the consequence is that nine of the ten once awakened are now faster asleep than ever.” He was fully convinced that wherever this dimension of discipleship was lost, Methodism would cease to be a vital movement (John Wesley’s Message for Today, p. 84).

Wesley gave instructions as to how these instituted means of grace should be used:

“First, always retain a lively sense, that God is above all means. Have a care, therefore, of limiting the Almighty. He does whatsoever and whenever it pleaseth Him.

Secondly. Before you use any means, let it be deeply impressed on your soul there is no power in this. It is, in itself, a poor, dead, empty thing: separate from God, it is a dry leaf, a shadow . . . But, because God bids, therefore I do; wait for His free mercy, whereof cometh my salvation.

Thirdly. In using all means, seek God alone. In and through every outward thing, look singly to the power of His Spirit, and the merits of His Son” (Fifty-Three Sermons, “The Means of Grace, pp. 183-184).

Now a word about the prudential means of grace, or works of mercy. Apart from attending upon all the ordinances of God, Wesley listed two: One, doing no harm; two, doing well.” Now, isn’t that simple? Yet, how profound in implication doing no harm, and doing well.

It was clearly underscored in Hebrews: “Pursue peace with everyone, and the holiness without which no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God; that no root of bitterness springs up and causes trouble, and through it the many become defiled” (Heb. 12:14-15). Put simply, the truth is this: To act as a Christi an is a means of grace. We will talk more about this later.

Before we look specifically at these means of grace I want to say a word about self-denial, or submission as the one thing necessary; then speak a brief word about the importance of reflection and also a further word about grace.

What [God] asks is a will which will no longer be divided between Him and any creature, a will pliant in His hands, which neither desires anything nor refuses anything, which wants without reservation everything which He wants, and which never, under any pretext, wants anything which He does not want.

I should like to persuade spiritual persons that the road leading to God does not entail a multiplicity of considerations, methods, manners, and experiences . . . but demands only the one thing necessary: true self-denial, exterior and interior, through surrender of self both to suffering for Christ and to annihilation in all things.

John of the Cross

In 1654 Blaise Pascal faced his life’s greatest test. His friendship with a duke had brought him into the highest levels of society, but the attractions and amusements of high society threatened his burgeoning spirituality. A letter Pascal wrote to his sister at this time reveals his inner crisis.

On the night of November 23, Pascal had an ecstatic experience that affected him for the rest of his life. In fact, he wrote down the insights he gained that night and sewed them into his jacket, transferring them from garment to garment as the jacket wore out. While he maintained some of his former relationships after the experience, he no longer felt any ambivalence about his call to surrender to Cod’s will for his life and work.

About two years later, Pascal began making notes for what he hoped would become a full-scale apology of the Christian religion. He wanted to use the brilliant mathematical mind Cod had given him to defend the faith.

Pascal’s notes now fill up several hundred pages in the book we know as Penses, or ‘Thoughts’. The scope of what Pascal intended must have been enormous because he stated that it would take ten years of good health to bring the book to completion this from a man who had already accomplished more in his first thirty-five years than most people accomplish in a lifetime.

The notes were made in 1657 and 1658, but in 1659 Pascal entered a period of serious illness from which he never fully recovered. In the midst of his illness he wrote, “Priere pour demander a Dieu le bon usage des maladies” (“Prayer asking God for the right use of illnesses”) in which he tried to find a Christian meaning for his suffering so he could discern God’s will and submit to it wholly and trustfully. In the prayer, Pascal asked God to dispose of his health and his sickness, his life and his death, first for the glory of God, then for his salvation and for the good of the church.

Pascal could have been bitter. He could have argued that God was treating him unfairly. He could have said, “God, I gave up everything to serve You in this, and now I’m too sick to complete it. How can you allow this to happen?” Instead he again changed his direction. Because he was too ill to work hard on the apology, he devoted his final years to ministering to the poor. He didn’t go back to the world; he simply found a new way to carry out his desire to serve God.

During his life, Pascal argued against the theology of the Roman Catholic Jesuits and the Protestant Calvinists, so there are, no doubt, plenty of traditions that could find fault with him, but when I read his biography I am virtually moved to tears by the heart of this man who was so surrendered to God. He surrendered not only the temptations of the world, this I can understand - but also the glory of a particular service to God - and this is what humbles me. Everything was placed upon the altar, and there was no bitterness at all when God decided to keep it. Pascal just kept serving the Lord.

God, make me like that man!

Surrender doesn’t come easy to me.

It has taken me some time to learn that the real test of true faith is not how successful we are, but how surrendered we are. The Christian faith is a faith in which we are called to die daily (Luke 9:23, among others). A Christian with his or her own agenda is like a horse with a head on both ends. There will be nothing but a “push-me/pull-you” struggle between this person and God. That is why Christ said the entrance to faith is through the cross; we cut off our own heads our will in order to follow God and His will.

The most Christian prayer we can ever pray is the prayer Jesus prayed in Gethsemane “Lord, thy will, not mine, be done.” So it should be no surprise that when Jesus taught His disciples to pray, He first blessed God, “Hallowed be Thy name,” and then began with “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done.”

Christian health is not defined by how happy we are how prosperous or healthy we are, or even by how many people we have led to the Lord in the last year. Christian health is ultimately defined by how sincerely we wave our flag of surrender.

The questions leading to spiritual growth and health, then, are: What is God’s will for me in this hour and day? Where is God leading me? How can I surrender to Him?

Law provided a clue: “He therefore is the devout man who lives no longer to his own will, or the way and spirit of the world, but to the sole will of God, who considers God in everything, who serves God in everything, who makes all the parts of his common fife parts of piety by doing everything in the name of God and under such rules as are conformable to His glory.”

We want to baptize our old nature rather than trade it in. We’re not told to wash the old nature, however, but to kill it. True Christianity is a state in which we are utterly, absolutely, and completely surrendered to God.

The Surrendered Heart

Testimony to the surrendered heart is the hallmark of a Christian classic. It is not a coincidence that so many of the ancients have written about it. Consider just these examples:

Ignatius Loyola: “We do not for our part wish for health rather than sickness, for wealth rather than poverty, for honor rather than dishonor, for a long life rather than a short one; and so in all other things, desiring and choosing only those which most lead us to the end for which we were created.”

Thomas a’ Kempis: “Lord how often shall I resign myself, and wherein shall I forsake myself? Always, and every hour; as well in small things as in great. I except nothing, but do desire that thou be found divested of all things. Otherwise how canst thou be mine, and I thine, unless thou be stripped of all self-will, both within and without?

Teresa of Avila: “The whole aim of any person who is beginning prayer-and don’t forget this, because it’s very important - should be that he work and prepare himself with determination and every possible effort to bring his will into conformity with God’s will.... It is the person who lives in more perfect conformity who will receive more from the Lord and be more advanced on this road.

And my favorite, by John of the Cross: “I should like to persuade spiritual persons that the road leading to God does not entail a multiplicity of considerations, methods, manners, and experiences - though in their own way these may be a requirement for beginners - but demands only the one thing necessary: true self-denial, exterior and interior, through surrender of self both to suffering for Christ and to annihilation in all things. . . . If one fails in this exercise, the root and sum total of all the virtues, the other methods would amount to no more than going about in circles without any progress, even if they result in considerations and communications as lofty as those of the angels.”

I quote all of these saints in length to purposefully overwhelm you with the surrendered heart of those who have already walked the Christian journey. They went far in the Christian life because they surrendered to God and resolved to cooperate with Him rather than fight and question Him throughout their entire lives.

There will likely be a time in our Christian journeys when, like Jacob, we will wrestle with God all night long. That night may last for months or even years. But there must eventually come a dawn when we say, “OK, God, You win. You’ve broken me and I’m yours. No more fighting. No more complaining. Lead me where you will. Not my will but Thine be done.”

The Biggest Block

The biggest block to our surrender is not our appetites and wayward desires, but our addiction to running our own lives. Surrender would be easy if it allowed us to merely sacrifice a few leaves, a few choice sins. But God wants more. God’s ax hits the trunk.

Pascal, who knew the heartrending call of surrender, wrote, “True conversion consists in self-annihilation before the universal being Whom we have so often vexed and Who is perfectly entitled to destroy us at any moment, in recognizing that we can do nothing without Him and that we have deserved nothing but his disfavor.”

The failure to truly die to ourselves is devastating to our spiritual health. Thomas a’ Kempis said, “The love of thyself doth hurt thee more than anything in the world.” This is because without the resignation of self, we will be involved in petty turf wars every time God tries to break in. Do you ever find yourself bargaining with God? I do. “God, I’ll do this if you’ll do that.” When I read Thomas a’ Kempis, however, I realized there can be no conditions to our true surrender. God is Lord of the universe - He is not a used car salesman. Here are the words that challenged me:

“Some there are who resign themselves, but with certain exceptions: for they put not their whole trust in God, therefore, they study how to provide for themselves. Some also at first offer all, but afterward being assailed with temptation, they return again to their own place, and therefore they make no progress in the path of virtue. These shall not attain to the true liberty of a pure heart, nor to the grace of my sweetest familiarity, unless they first make an entire resignation and a daily sacrifice of themselves unto me. For without this, there neither is nor can be a fruitful union with me.”

An equally difficult lesson for me to learn was that surrender is never a once-in-a-lifetime activity; it is the continual worship of a growing Christian. This means that I must be willing to part with anything on a regular basis, even those good things that come from God. As part of our discipline of surrender, God will often ask us to let go of something very precious, even something He has given us. This is because, as Fenelon wrote, “There is not a single gift, noble as it may be, which, after having been a means of advancement, does not generally become, later on, a trap and an obstacle, by the return of self which soils the soul. For this reason God takes away what He has given. But He does not take it away to deprive us of it forever. He takes it away so that he can better give it, so that He can give it back without the impurity of this evil sense of ownership which we mingle with it without noticing it in ourselves. The loss of the gift takes away our ownership.... Then the gift is no longer the gift of God. It is God Himself in the soul. It is no more a gift of God, because we consider it no longer as something apart from Him, and something which the soul can possess.

Listen to Gary Thomas’s testimony, in his marvelous book Seeking the Face of God:

“Just months before my wife and I became engaged, Lisa was in Mexico on a short-term missions trip. She sent me a letter explaining that she was considering staying in Mexico for another year. A close friend, sensing my anxiety over Lisa’s plans, wrote me a letter after he had spent some time praying for us. Rob said I had to hold Lisa like I held sand with an open palm. If I closed my fist too tightly, the sand would run through my fingers.

I knew Rob had heard God correctly, but his words were the last words I wanted to hear. As I said before, surrender has never been easy for me; but this time, I let go. Lisa ended up coming back, and we were engaged just a couple months later.”

Now the time table is not the issue. The important matter is that God works His best in lives that are surrendered to Him.

How many Christians have wondered why a precious relationship has seemed to go sour, a powerful ministry appears to be drying and or a healthy business seems to be disintegrating? Could it be that we have taken what is good and begun worshiping the created rather than the Creator? It would be simplistic to assume this is always the case but presumptuous to assume it is never the case. God blesses us, and we become so with the blessing that we lose sight of the One Who blesses.

Surrender is thus the daily worship of a hue Christian and not just in the big things either. If we gladly relinquish the small sacrifices,” our growth will be great, for any small surrender is a great victory; any refusal of surrender is a great defeat.

We need to understand the seriousness of rebellion. When we refuse in the big things, He will move to the small. When we surrender to give God even these, what else can He ask? We have then approached the land of apostasy, and all the spiritual disciplines in the world, all the beautiful songs we sing, and all the money we give away won’t excuse the fact that our hearts are in rebellion.

Scripture’s call to “actively pursue training in godliness” (1 Tim 4:7) presupposes some times of reflection to determine how we have progressed or fallen short. I know almost nothing about weight rooms except that every one I’ve been in has large mirrors that allow the athletes to examine their bodies and notice their progress. Selfish preoccupation is death to a growing spirituality, but sensible reflection is an essential and healthy element of Christianity - a mirror held up to our spiritual progress. If we never take stock of where we are, years can fly by without any advantage being gained from them.

Thomas a’ Kempis urged us, “View life as a journey, with heaven as our destination; each new season is another step in our travels, and we can use it to make sure we’re headed in the right direction. “From festival to festival we should make some good resolution, as though we were then to depart out of this world, and to come to the everlasting feast in heaven. Therefore we ought to carefully prepare ourselves at holy times, and to live more and to keep more strictly all things that we are to observe, as though we were shortly at God’s hands to receive the reward of our labors.”

Through the years Christians have used various means of reflections, including journaling.

It is only as we examine ourselves in regular periods of reflection that we are able to see particular weaknesses gradually transformed. That gives us hope that current weaknesses — a propensity toward fear, for example will also be transformed.

It’s exciting to see a weakness torn out or strength strongly planted in a moment of exhilarating prayer; but most often, God brings virtues out of us like a plant out of the ground. First there’s a small stalk of green, then the separate leaves, and finally the flowers. Reflection reminds us that growth is a process that keeps us from growing lazy and keeps our hope alive when growth seems delayed.

Regular reflection keeps the years from slipping by, unappreciated; we need to taste every one. Who would want to pass into eternity without having given thought — much thought, to this life, what it means, how to live it, and what needs to be done?

Learning to Live with Grace

Discussing training in the Christian life is potentially dangerous. For those who understand it, in context, training is a feast from the ancients. For those who tend toward legalism it’s a dangerous prescription that could be poisonous if taken in the wrong manner. Still, the concept of rigorous training in the spiritual life is so historically established that one can scarcely discuss Christian spirituality without mentioning it, even at the risk of leading some people to become legalists grace in which an awakened heart responds to God’s mercy by giving all. We bring nothing to God, and He gives us everything.

A righteous life and rigorous training without a heart full of grace is like an egg without yolk — a fragile shell that will break under the slightest pressure. Not only are Pharisees a bore and an active bother, they eventually crack under the strain of impossible expectations.

That is only one side of the truth, however, for though Pharisees are eggs without yolks, those who try to exist solely on mercy without structure or discipline are like eggs without shells — a sticky, gooey mess.

Legalism, on the other hand, and complacency, on the other, are twin enemies to true Christian spirituality. Paul spoke scathingly of anyone who added a milligram to grace, but he could scarcely mention the word without adding, in essence, “But we don’t continue to live the way we used to.”

In all our efforts — setting the right schedule, obtaining the right teaching, cultivating the right virtue, and so on - we mustn’t forget the covering of grace. Some of us will try to do too much too soon. Brother Lawrence warned of a woman who “wants to go faster than grace. One does not become holy all at once.” John Climacus cautioned his readers: “The fact is that no one can climb a ladder in a single stride.” He added, “at the beginning of one’s life as a monk one cannot suddenly become free of gluttony and vainglory.”

William Law, our champion of training in the spiritual life, stressed the importance of laboring with the right spirit. His strict writings, he said, were “not intended to possess people’s minds with a scrupulous anxiety and discontent in the service of God, but to fill them with a just fear of living in sloth and idleness and in the neglect of such virtues as they will want at the day bf judgment. It is to excite them to an earnest examination of their lives, to such zeal and care and concern after Christian perfection as they use in any matter that has gained their heart and affections.

Responsibility and grace are the twin pillars that support the foundation of the Christian life. At times, we will be tempted to shirk responsibility. At other times, we may forget about grace. The latter is as much a temptation as the former.

As fallen men and women, we can only progress so far, but we can progress. That’s the tension. As Law wrote, “We cannot offer to God the service of angels; we cannot obey Him as man in a state of perfection could; but fallen men can do their best, and this is the perfection required of us.