Devotion Actually

I remember this thought, "I must read my bible each and every day."

God desires devotion, and the most holy worshippers recite scriptures and dance easily through each verse, chapter, and book. God's Word, for them, tastes like nectar and sticks like glue. "But the Bible says this, and it also says this. So, flip to here and here and keep in mind Paul's words to the Romans..." they say.

I heard stories of their constant devotion, how they woke up each morning for 17 years to spend time with God, and I thought I saw the fruit of their devotion. Naturally, I desired that.

So, I tried. I read three chapters a day because, "if you read just three chapters a day, then you can read the whole bible in one year." And, "if I can read the whole bible..." only God knows the possibilities thereafter. Then, I heard of radical people reading whole books at a time, 'as they were meant to read.' I tried that, too. If reading felt too cumbersome, I listened to God's Word and let it wash over me like a warm shower.

Reading worked well enough, but I needed more. I heard sermons delivered around memorizing scripture and 'writing it on the heart'. Those I admired spouted off verse after verse without ever opening the bible. So, I created a list of, 'verses to memorize' and tucked it bookmark-like into my personal bible. Each day, I read and recited, "Consider it pure joy, brothers and sisters, when you face trials of many kinds..."

When reading and memorizing proved insufficient, I read books by those who read the bible. I needed an expert or a guru to nurse my infant knowledge. Each morning, I laid out my Bible, the list of verses I needed to memorize, and then another book about the book of the bible I was reading.

I neglected a critical aspect of this process though: journaling. All this work with God without recording it? That was unacceptable. A local pastor confirmed that it ought to be part of my routine. I needed to write down my prayers, all I learned, and milestones with God. So, I bought a black leather journal, and a $7.00 pen. Each day, alongside the bible, my verse list, and the expert's opinions, I set down my journal and took note of the activity.

Oh, damn, but I forgot to pray, which, rendered the rest of the process incomplete. Gently tearing a piece out of my journal, I settled on a prayer list of names, issues, and other egocentric concerns. If someone asked me, "Can you pray?" I said, "Yes," and scribbled their request onto my docket.

This was devotion actually: reading at least three bible chapters, reciting memorized verses, wisdom from the guru, prayer, and journaling all the aforementioned activities.

Participating in particularly Christian activities was the only way I knew how 'to be' a Christian. Task after completed task encouraged my self-righteousness to gestate in a womb of arrogance. After developing, fear and anxiety birthed, which left me empty to repeat the process once again.

I experienced fear of 'notdoingenough' and suffered am-I-doing-this-right anxiety disorder. Was I reading enough? Was I reading the right expert? Did I journal enough? What if I missed a prayer request? Will I ever memorize that passage? What if I don't? Do I have the right translation? Should I pray more?

Becoming entangled in such a web is simple. Getting out? God knows...

I broke down reading through my journal. Every word, phrase, and paragraph oozed 'me, me, me' and left God as my understudy. I only thought, "This is bullshit."

I tossed my journal, asked for forgiveness, and then sat unaware of how 'to be' a Christian. Such a problem exists for anyone who has abused very healthy practices for engaging with God. Reading is a great discipline. Prayer...obviously. Journaling is wonderful for reflection. Memorizing God's word is perfect. None of my habits were wrong, but the heart driving my habits left me wandering in the wilderness.

There isn't a happy ending. I'm still wandering with the lost, but I am learning that devotion actually arises out of a deep necessity for God. I pray now because I need God-words instead of Garrett-words. I read my bible for the same reason, and the question 'how much?' never crosses my mind. I don't journal anymore because it stresses me out and I need more time for prayer. 

My passions ruled me. God did not. I was devoted to my ego and needed to please it. I did not need God. I am wondering now, "how much more of my 'particularly Christian activity' is actually serving God? And how much is serving my ego?" 

To end, I have pasted my favorite story from the desert fathers.

A brother once went out on a pilgrimage from the monastery of Abba Poemen, and came to a hermit, who lived in love towards all and received many visitors. The brother told the hermit stories of Abba Poemen. And when he heard of Poemen's strength of character, he longed to see him. 

The brother returned to Egypt. And after some little time, the hermit rose and went from his country to Egypt to see the brother who had visited him: for he had told him where he lived. When the brother saw the hermit, he was astonished, and very glad.  The hermit said to him, "Of your charity towards me, take me to Abba Poemen." And the brother rose up and showed him the way to the old man. 

And the brother told Abba Poemen this about the hermit, "A great man of much charity, and particular honor in his own province, has come here wanting to see you." So the old man received him kindly. And after they had exchanged greetings, they sat down.

But the hermit began to talk of the Holy Scripture, and of the things of the spirit and of heaven. But Abba Poemen turned his face away, and answered nothing. When the hermit saw that he would not speak with him, he was distressed and went out. And he said to the brother who had brought him there, "My journey was useless. I went to the old man and he does not deign to speak to me."

The brother went to Abba Poemen, and said, "Abba, it was to talk with you that this great man came here, a man of much honor in his own land. Why did you not speak to him?"

The old man answered, "He is from above, and speaks of the things of heaven. I am from below, and speak of the things of the earth. If he had spoken with me on the soul's passions, I would willingly have replied to him. But if he speaks of the things of the spirit, I know nothing about them." 

So the brother went out and told the hermit, "The reason is that the old man does not easily discuss Scripture. But if anyone talks to him about the soul's passions, he answers."

Then the hermit was stricken with penitence, and went to the old man and said, "What shall I do, Abba?  My passions rule me." And the old man gazed at him with gladness and said, "Now you are welcome.  You have only to ask and I will speak with understanding." And the hermit was much strengthened by their discourse, and said, "Truly, this is the way of love."

And he thanked God that he had been able to see so holy a man, and returned to his own country."