The late Mike Yaconelli spent much of his life worried that he wasn’t spiritual enough. Despite his many efforts to be a better Christian, the best he ever seemed to manage was “a stumbling, bumbling, clumsy kind of following.” Spirituality remained an eternally elusive state of being that was always just out of grasp.
Most churches reinforce this perfectionistic line of thinking, setting high standards for how their members should look and act and offering countless formulas for “godly” living that never quite work as well as advertised. The end result is pews full of people with smiles permanently in place who know all the right things to say to hide the disarray and dysfunction that lie just below the surface.
Yaconelli’s epiphany came when he realized that spirituality wasn’t a matter of having one’s life perfectly sorted out or of fitting into the mold of what a “good Christian” is supposed to look like.
Spirituality is not a formula; it is not a test. It is a relationship. Spirituality is not about competency; it is about intimacy. Spirituality is not about perfection; it is about connection. The way of the spiritual life begins where we are now in the mess of our lives. Accepting the reality of our broken, flawed lives is the beginning of spirituality not because the spiritual life will remove our flaws but because we let go of seeking perfection and, instead, seek God, the one who is present in the tangledness of our lives. Spirituality is not about being fixed; it is about God’s being present in the mess of our unfixedness.
Messy Spirituality (recently re-released by Zondervan Publishing) is Yaconelli’s challenge to a church that values conformity over authenticity, perfection over compassion and formula over relationship. Most evangelical churches would argue that they uphold a vision similar to Yaconelli’s, yet in practice few allow people the freedom to be where they’re at without pushing them to strive toward some fixed standard of perfection. Uniqueness is sometimes praised but more often condemned.
Similarly, many ex-gay ministries teach what appears to be a grace-filled message that encourages participants to share openly about their struggles while growing at their own pace according to God’s timing. In practice, however, only a handful of these ministries genuinely leave room for individuals to engage directly with God; the end result of that engagement has been predetermined according to a particular interpretation of a select set of biblical passages, and anyone who reaches different conclusions is automatically deemed unworthy of membership in the body of Christ.
Yaconelli (perhaps wisely) does not address the issue of homosexuality in his book, aside from including GLBT individuals in a list of various groups that churches commonly ostracize (to his credit he uses the term “gay or lesbian” rather than the various euphemisms that evangelicals typically substitute). As a result, readers will bring their own conclusions with them as to how homosexuality should be addressed by the church.
Yaconelli’s vision of “messy spirituality” does, nonetheless, suggest a framework that we can use to live with fellow Christians who disagree with us on this (or any other) issue. Having been granted the freedom to be where we’re at as individuals, we can in turn extend that same grace to others, encouraging them to pursue God (and to be pursued by him) without the need to dictate to them what that must look like, or what conclusions they have to reach.
It’s an imperfect solution, but then again, it’s an imperfect world.
The quote from Yaconelli is particularly resonant with me since it seems to come straight out of Catholic theology. As the Catholic Church begins to grow in areas such as the Deep South, a peculiar brand of Calvinism exemplified by the “people with smiles permanently in place who know all the right things to say” is beginning to take place in those pews as well. This is serious not only for the gays and lesbians forced out in this self-centered quest for earthly perfection but also for the people whose spirituality becomes so stunted that they become blinded towards their own vanity and sinful pride.
Wow, I really have to go out and buy this book, me and one of my best friends were talking about this just yesterday, we both grew up Southern Baptists, and as adults now, we think about how we were taught that the only thing really important was to appear perfect…. there wasn’t any real acceptance of anyone who might be construed as different, you could be jack the ripper, but as long as you were smiling and joining everyone else on sunday, no one cared, on the other hand, if you didn’t take to the idea of “conformity in the body of christ” as my pastor so despicably called it, you were pretty much ostracized…. anyways, I greatly look forward to buying and reading this book.
I can attest that this is a great book
This is one of my top 10 favorite books. I got the chance to hear him speak a few times when I was a youth minister. He was a man many of the church types didn’t like. He didn’t act how a Christian minister “should” act. Its definitely a book for those who are broken and feel like they dont measure up.
Sadly, that can be quite a compliment these days. Nice to see you participate Pomo 😉
My colleague Brian and I love this book!! So glad to see it reviewed here on XGW.
In a similar vein, I would highly recommend Baxter Kruger to the readers here. I’ve just finished his book, “Across All Worlds: Jesus Inside Our Darkness”.
From Kruger:
“To find rest for your soul, look with Jesus into his Father’s eyes. Accept yourself as the Father’s beloved child. Acknowledge that the Father Himself is proud of you. In the freedom of His pride, acknowledge that you are blind. Face the fact that something within you is hesitant to believe. Confess that something within your own heart whispers, “No, it cannot be this simple. God cannot be this good. I could not be this wrong.” As the beautiful life of Jesus with His Father and Spirit exposes your hiding and pretending, your shallowness and fear, do not run. Do not shut down. Do not pretend. Stop and face the pain. Embrace the exposure, own it, take responsibility for it, and right there in the midst of the pain dare to look into the Father’s face. It is all about receiving the Father’s love. “Come unto Me” means nothing more than, “Receive my knowledge of the Father and believe in my Father’s love. Declare war on your own vision of god and his neglect, his indifference, his eagerness to judge. Listen to me, your brother. I know the Father’s heart.”
Wendy,
Thank you for sharing that quote. It sounds like a good book.
A great read highly recommend.