It Only Takes A Spark...

And an accelerant may not be what you want

Photo by Adam Wilson on Unsplash

Program note: This is a one-off post. It happens from time to time.

The purpose of [the group] is to foster accelerated spiritual transformation and ultimately, multiplication.

It is neither my desire nor my habit to scour the internet for matters which I find to be disputable, and register my yea or nay. I’m not on the lookout for errors of either substance or style. But sometimes, I can’t help myself.

The quotation in italics above is one I came across online. It describes a ministry focused on small discipleship groups of a handful of people, the structure of which was to meet weekly for twelve months. Nothing unusual about that, of course. Small groups are often the meat and potatoes of church life in evangelical congregations. So it was not this which caught my eye, but their stated purpose, which I highlight above: “The purpose of [group name] is to foster accelerated spiritual transformation…”

I’m willing to entertain the notion that I’m getting cranky and curmudgeonly in my old age; and if this post smacks of that, feel free to stop right here and read no more. But as someone who is asked, from time to time, about growth in the Christian life, I have a stake in the matter published by this internet source, which shall remain nameless.

I’ll come right to the point. It’s the words, “accelerated transformation” with which I have a disagreement - and indeed a strong one. The problem, as I see it, is this: accelerated transformation is an oxymoron. It’s a contradiction in terms, at least if we’re speaking in the context of biblical theology.

I get, I understand the thinking behind this statement. I was thoroughly immersed in discipleship ministry from the time I was 19 years old, and a college student. I caught on to the fact that discipleship was serious business, and not for slackers. There was a culture of achievement and accomplishment in the circles where I ran, and I jumped in with both feet.

And I would be remiss if I didn’t point out the benefits which I experienced in this environment. It was good to be challenged, to learn, to seek to make progress as I discovered the life of the risen Christ. I read and absorbed huge amounts of the Bible. I memorized Scripture left and right (or rather “fore and aft” as it was said). The fact is that I still benefit from the things I learned and the habits I began fifty years ago.

So what’s the problem with a program which aims at serious discipleship, then or now? It’s those words, “accelerated transformation.”

Fifty years later, “transformation” seems as elusive as it was when I was twenty. Why? The mountain’s summit I recognize to be much higher than what I wold have believed. The path to the summit I recognize to be more grueling than I would have believed. The number of switchbacks (see my entry for February 13) to be encountered on the way to the summit I recognize to be more numerous and more wearying than I would have believed as a wild-eyed, keep-on-truckin’ Christian.

Of this I am thoroughly convinced: the climb to the top entailed in spiritual transformation resists acceleration. Period.

It is tempting to believe that there is some kind of boot camp approach to the faith which will put me miles ahead of the pack, and leapfrog over what occurs over the course of years, and indeed, decades. I do not for one moment deny its appeal. And there are things which can be accomplished through programs and plans. Skills can be taught, and even deepened. Books of the Bible can be read, and even speed-read. Verses and even chapters can be memorized (I read of one guy who had memorized Psalm 119. I stand agog.)

There is, however, a limit to these methods. Behind the programs, the plans, and the platforms there is a person who remains fallen, fallible, and finite. What Scripture tells us about the effects of sin, even after our own regeneration, suggests that any jump to spiritual hyperspace, however well planned, won’t leave our dirty laundry behind. There remain embarrassing bits and pieces of life which offer proof positive that we remain sinners. And, as we all know, images in the rear-view mirror are closer and bigger than what they appear.

Accelerants have their place. But their place and their reason for being belong in a quadrant far from spiritual transformation. Accelerants are something one adds to a fire, and they have one effect: they make the fire bigger, hotter, and potentially more dangerous to life and property. But don’t take my word for it; here’s what the renown compendium Wikipedia has to say:

An accelerant is any substance or material that accelerates or speeds the development and escalation of a fire. Accelerants are often used to commit arson, and some accelerants may cause an explosion.

You don’t say.

If we’re looking for a biblical image or metaphor for progress in the Christian life, we can research the words for fire, and it will be in vain. Instead we find stuff like this:

The righteous flourish like the palm tree and grow like a cedar in Lebanon. They are planted in the house of the Lord; they flourish in the courts of our God. They still bear fruit in old age; they are ever full of sap and green to declare that the Lord is upright; he is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in him. (Psalm 92:12-15)

For that reason, I will gladly bear the badge of sap; and I will leave others to become crispy critters if they insist.