-
Josh McDowell taught me to rely on evidence and demand a verdict from my not-yet-believing friends.
-
James Dobson dared me to discipline my children.
-
Larry Burkett promoted a sure-fire financial formula that would free me from the shackles of debt.
-
Tim and Beverly LaHaye promised good sex in marriage.
-
Edith Schaffer demonstrated how to be a godly homemaker.
-
Hal Lindsey prepped me for the end of the world.
While these nationally-known authors and speakers laid out their formulas for “successful” Christian living, there were dozens of lesser luminaries filling in the gaps in my life through radio programming, appearances on nascent Christian TV stations, and via Bible studies and small group discussions in my local church.
Like many other young and eager believers, I embraced these formulas as part and parcel of the gospel. They promised a sure-fire roadmap toward a life of blessing that would exorcise suffering. And they implied I would know Jesus better if I just did what they said.
When we’re young in our faith, formula provides not only structure, but a sense of belonging. I noted here:
Young faith seeks structure, and as we continue to grow, young believers find this structure by becoming a part of a church or fellowship group…(it) is all about learning the written (and unwritten) rules of how we live our faith within community. There’s a sense of security and excitement as we discover our spiritual identity in the context of a group and form friendships with other believers just like us. In order to belong, we may try to play down experiences and ideas that don’t align with the group’s style or congregation’s doctrine.
This desire for rules and a sense of belonging in young believers should be treated as though it is stamped with a “Caution!” label. The desire for structure makes young believers coachable; it also leaves them vulnerable in some cases to abuse by unscrupulous shepherds. Even more common, maturing believers have to do some right-sizing of those black-and-white formulas when life experience and growth in wisdom invite a whole palette of grays to the proverbial table. Our faith will shift as we mature.
Of course, there is an essential role in formation for teaching principles, modeling spiritual disciplines, and nurturing everyday obedience to our Savior. But older believers must combat at every turn in their relationships with younger Jesus-followers the implication that following a formula = following Jesus. We do so by being willing in the company of other believers both younger and older than we are to ask questions of those formulas, listen with humility to the experiences of others – and by saying three words that are the mark of a humble, lifelong learner.
Those words are, “I don’t know.”
It can be scary to say those words, especially when we in the church are always telling the world that we have all the answers. But when our formulas represent our answers, those formulas will overpromise, underdeliver, and disappoint.
So much of our early learning is by catechesis, whether formal or informal in form, and we’re encouraged to demonstrate our faith with our certainty. Every question has an answer. I am certain of the truths in the creeds.
But I am not certain that there is only one way to raise a child or have a perfect sex life or achieve financial “success”. Wise people of faith often say that the older they get, the less they know. The hubris of formula-dependent faith gives way through the complexities of life to childlike trust in the goodness of their heavenly Father. Our formulas are not the answer. He is.
I’ll be honest: I liked the sense of security those formulas promised to give me. I liked applying my ambitions to attempting to “win” at the Christian life. Midlife came along and showed me I was aiming at the wrong target.
I have been learning in my second half that I’m the target – I’m the receiver of God’s purifying, transforming love. And a fruit of his work in my life is the security and freedom of being able to walk with another believer and say, “I don’t know either, but maybe we can prayerfully learn together.”
If you’re in the second half of your life, what is your relationship with the formulas that may have been presented to you as a younger believer?
Cover photo by Roman Mager on Unsplash
During my decades in the Christian world I’ve been exposed to a plethora of formulas. Some I promptly tossed into the Ridiculous folder as I knew at 14 or 21 or 32 that life didn’t work that way. With some I was an Early Adopter until the formula quickly fell apart when applied. My family or my situation or my personality wasn’t the same as that of the Formula Creator. In the end, what fit them didn’t look good on me. Some provided Key Lessons that instilled good habits in my life. The Navigator’s drilled Bible verses into my brain; Larry Burkett taught budgeting and financial planning skills I still use.
Then there were the No Guarantee formulas I thought were guaranteed by God himself. When my 15-year-old didn’t act as promised, when my marriage struggled, when I wandered in the spiritual wilderness no one had mentioned existed, I was angry. Angry that God didn’t follow the formulas. Angry at what had been taught. Angry that I had believed it. Angry that life wasn’t that simple.
Now I can I see the formulas as stepping stones for growth. They were theories to test, recipes to try, fads to discard, and occasionally helpful models. I wanted them to provide solutions for the gray and mysterious parts of life I now accept don’t have answers.
“Now I can I see the formulas as stepping stones for growth. They were theories to test, recipes to try, fads to discard, and occasionally helpful models. I wanted them to provide solutions for the gray and mysterious parts of life I now accept don’t have answers.”
Well said!
Thank you so much for this! This is also my experience. I never did receive “a new child by Friday” and often questioned my faulty application of the seemingly wonderful formula. Maybe if I would have married a Dennis-Rainy-kind-of guy or some version of James Dobson, my issues would have been resolved!? 🙂
While there is much good in all the advice and formulas we have received over the years, I believe our problem goes back farther. I wonder if it started when the Church tried to replicate the world and her stardom. We clapped our famous to the top, wanted someone in flesh and blood to scoop out easy to digest, Godly wisdom. While we were proud to have them stand in our pulpits on Saturday (and groped for their signed books), we cringed a bit on Sunday when our way-too-normal preacher told us we had to die to self. Who wants to slug through Ecclesiastes and Lamentations when copies of “Your Best Life Yesterday” are available for half-off in the narthex?
You touched on a huge issue, particularly in Evangelicalism and in Charismatic circles – the huge discomfort with the topic of suffering. We love quick fixes (“Your Best Life Yesterday!” ha!) and don’t know what to do with the road through the valley of the shadow that runs through our lives. Certainly our desire for celebrities to show us the way is a part of that, and our American propensity for quick fixes another part, but suffering (mental illness, chronic disease, aging, just to name a few) is a topic we avoid like…well…like the plague.
Forget the formulas. What stuck with me was a simple phrase – could have been “worldly”- but my loving mentor kept it simple. “Do the next right thing.” All the books on raising kids or the financial formulas were tossed in boxes delivered to Goodwill. The instincts and love of both me and my husband is what raised our kids. Love and guidance from their friends parents, too. There was alway a new vision or mission at church and my son would ask, “What was wrong with the God given vision from last year?” We’d chuckle, tell ourselves not to be cynical, but in the end it’s the heart issues, not the formulas. Back to the mentor, she was 25 years older than me but came alongside me as a sister, sometimes, a mom, always a friend. I trusted her. I can solidly say I lost trust in the business of church and the formulas.
Your mentor sounds like a wise, wise woman. And doing the next right thing has carried me through the last couple of years of my life – through a relocation and now a pandemic.
I related to this so much, “I have been learning in my second half that I’m the target – I’m the receiver of God’s purifying, transforming love.” Thank you for your transparent writing.
This is such a good piece; thank you, Michelle. I relate to so much of what you say here.
Funny how we gravitate to formulas, to that sense of control over our destiny. Life is too wonderfully messy and surprising to conform to a simple formula.
I love that “I’m the target” of his love and grace. It’s not just for the unbeliever. It’s for each one of us, his dearly loved children. Thanks, Michelle!