Imago Dei Christian Community

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Here is a trustworthy saying: Whoever aspires to be an elder desires a noble task.
1Tim. 3:1

The Dene (pronounced Den-nay) are a Northern Canadian aboriginal tribe who govern themselves by a council of wise men.  As is typical in many aboriginal societies, the male elders are chosen by the women.  I once had the occasion to speak with a Dene woman about the process of selecting elders in their communities.  I asked what I assumed was an intelligent question, “On what basis do you decide who’s an elder among you?”  She answered me with a puzzled look,  “You just know.  Some people are elders while others are just old people.”  It struck me as an important distinction to make for my own life, as I too grow older.  Will others see me as an elder in God’s kingdom, or as just another old person?

In a recent publication by Regent College* a number of students and faculty were asked to reflect on the topic of aging well.  In one article, professor Maxine Hancock speaks of the characteristics she has observed in people who age well, especially in debilitating circumstances.  She writes,

I have had the privilege of watching people whose long habits of spiritual discipline and personal devotion taught them to accept infirmity with patience, and care with gratitude.  Even those who experienced dementia retained a core identity grounded in Christ; they met death at peace and unafraid.

Often, when I meet with younger people for spiritual direction, I will ask them what type of old person they want to be.  I try to encourage them to start preparing now for the characteristics they wish to see in their future selves.  As Eugene Peterson notes, it is a “long obedience in the same direction” that ultimately forms the character of old age.

What are the character traits that God is presently investing in you for your old age?  What is it that you are being obedient to today that will bear fruit for the person you will soon enough be? How, in your old age, might all that you have learned from a life of seeking and finding God contribute to the fabric of the Christian community around you?  In other words, what type of elder will you be?  Or will you be just another old person?

In the same publication, Dr. James Houston reflects on the life-long relational qualities that contribute to the making of an elder.  He writes,

An elder is someone who, all his or her life, has been committed to relational values such as friendship and family.  As elders grow old, they continue to foster communal values and strong relationships.  In the Old Testament, the elder is the one who facilitates the maturing of personal relationships within the community

This relational emphasis is also echoed by Regent graduate Linda Seale who sees mentoring as one the chief tasks we should anticipate and equip ourselves for as we age.  She writes,

Mentoring involves wisdom.  In a world overwhelmed with information, we are sadly lacking in wisdom.  Wisdom develops over a lifetime of pondering and integrating the experiences given by our Lord.  We need to pass this on to the next generations to help them mature, to stand there with encouragement, and to provide that fertile soil in which new leaders can develop.

The prophet Hosea counsels us to “sow righteousness for yourselves, reap the fruit of unfailing love, and break up your unplowed ground” (Hos. 10:12).  In other words, the making of an elder is a seasoned work that begins long before we reach old age.  As Linda Seale wisely concludes, “Aging well is a process that begins by doing any stage of life well.”

Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
The last of life, for which the first was made:
Our times are in His hand
Who saith “A whole I planned,
Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!”

Rabbi Ben Ezra, by Robert Browning

*see http://www.regent-college.edu/pdf/regentworld/RegentWorldSummer2011.pdf for a pdf of this publication.

God has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them we may participate in the divine nature.   2Pet 1:4

Makarios the Great was a Syrian spiritual director who ministered in the fourth century near the border area of Cappadocia (Turkey) and Syria.  He was a disciple of St. Antony, the first of the desert fathers.  In his teachings, Makarios often stressed the importance of a felt experience of God.  He saw this as an indicator of the Holy Spirit, through whom we come to “taste and see that the Lord is good” (Ps. 34:8).  Such experiences of God cause us to grow in our desire to be united with God as the object of our love.

For most early theologians, the highest expression and purpose of faith was the union of the soul with God.  It is why God became man through Jesus—to unite Himself to our humanity so that our humanity would be united with His divinity.   As Makarios taught, “The infinite God diminished Himself in order to be united with His creatures, so they can be made participators of divine life.”

The apostle Peter, as well, teaches that God’s promises in Christ—in whom the fullness of both humanity and divinity are joined—represent an invitation to “participate in the divine nature” (2Pet 1:4).  And we do so by submitting our lives to the Holy Spirit.  This is why theologians often refer to the third person of the Trinity as “the agent of our participation.”   Spiritual maturity then is the fruit of our ongoing response to the Spirit’s invitation which we participate in through the yielding of our hearts.

One of Makarios’ most memorable metaphors for the passive way we make ourselves available to the Holy Spirit is that of the heart serving as a “resonating chamber.”  In the same way that the body of a guitar or a violin serves to amplify the sound of the plucked or bowed string, so our bodies become a place where the song of the Spirit re-sonates within.  He writes,

As breath sounds when passed through a flute, so does the Holy Spirit make music in the holy and God-bearing saints who, from a pure heart, become hymns and psalms to God.

Echoing the insight of other desert saints, Makarios recognizes the resulting “music” as that of the Holy Spirit lifting us up in the praise of God.  It is the Spirit within us—the “Word” which does not come back empty—who returns praise to Christ through the instrument of our yielded hearts.  As Makarios expreses,

The Spirit, taking possession of the soul, now sings a new song to the Lord with the timbrel of the body and so it sends up praises, through the believer, to the life-giving Christ.

If such be the case, all the more should our desire be to make room for the Holy Spirit’s resonance in our souls.  Let us heed the Psalmist’s call to worship when he says: “Awake my soul!  Sing and make music to your God.”   As we offer our hearts as instruments of His praise, we will discover what it means to truly worship in Spirit and truth (Jn 4:24).

I will sing and make music.

Awake, my soul!
Awake, harp and lyre!
I will awaken the dawn.

Psalm 57:7-8

That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched—this we proclaim concerning the Word of life.

1John 1:1

The testimony of a first-hand experience of God is what is most needed in our witness to the world today.  Without the conviction that comes from a direct knowledge of God the most we can offer in the marketplace of spiritual ideas is one more belief system among many others.  What makes Christianity unique though, is that it is much more than a theory about the spiritual life.  It is a living relationship with the very Creator of that spiritual life.

Father Matta El-Meskeen, also known as Matthew the Poor, lived his life in the prayer-birthed experience of God.  Recognizing the importance of such a witness for the world, he moved as a young man to the Tunisian desert in order to more profoundly seek God for himself.  He believed that what he learned of God in the experience of his own life could become a light that testifies to the reality of this same possibility in others.  In his book The Orthodox Prayer Life, he speaks of his motivation he had for becoming a hermit.

So many books tell about Christ; so many preachers speak about Christ; but so few people live and speak with Christ.  What had attracted me to the solitary life and absorbed my mind was the idea that once I had found Christ this knowledge would be turned into prayer for the whole world.

More than a theology to believe in, the gospel is an action of the Holy Spirit that we observe from the vantage point of our own lives.  Prayer introduces us to the immediacy of God which then becomes the certainty from which we bear witness that such an experience is also possible for others.  It also becomes the motivation for our own continued pursuit of God.

There is a story of the desert fathers that wonderfully illustrates the tenacity that this first-hand experience produces in us.  One of Abba Hilarion’s disciples asked him a question about monks who give up on the spiritual quest.  The Abba replied with a story,

Consider the hunting dogs which chase after hares.  Imagine one of these dogs sees a hare in the distance and immediately gives chase.  The other dogs that are with him see this dog run off and take off after him, even though they have not seen the hare. They will continue running with him, but only for a time.  When at length the effort and struggle exhaust them, they give up the chase and turn back.  However the dog that saw the hare continues chasing it by himself. He does not allow the effort or struggle to hinder him from completing his long course. Nor does he allow the turning aside of the other dogs behind him to put him off. He goes on running until he has caught the hare he saw.

The way this story applies to the value of first-hand knowledge is obvious.  It also suggests the strong motivation that the experience of God provides for us to remain in the chase.  Because we are certain of what we have seen, even when we have lost sight of our target, we do not lose hope that it actually exists.

The life appeared; we have seen it and testify to it, and we proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and has appeared to us.

1John 1:2