life and peace
Romans 8:6-11
To set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. For this reason the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God; it does not submit to God’s law—indeed it cannot, and those who are in the flesh cannot please God.
But you are not in the flesh; you are in the Spirit, since the Spirit of God dwells in you. Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him. But if Christ is in you, though the body is dead because of sin, the Spirit is life because of righteousness. If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit that dwells in you. (NRSV)
At first glance I can see this particular passage as being a good argument for monasticism. “To set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace”—seems like a charge to forget earthly desires and go find a beehive hut on a rocky outcropping off the coast of Ireland somewhere, doesn’t it?
I’m reminded, however, of the “problems” early Irish monks experienced when they went to set up shop as the northern equivalent of the desert fathers. They wanted to live ascetic lives of devotion, dedicating themselves to the life of the Spirit and living only upon what God provided… but, annoyingly, God provided with such abundance in their fecund climate that within months they were living far better than they believed any isolated hermit really should be living. After all, a few old scraps deposited outside the door of a hut in the pastoral environs of County Kilkenny will yield a lush, richly watered garden in short order.
While the monastic life may have its benefits, I suspect that perhaps Paul was trying to get at something a little different in this passage. He speaks of life in the Spirit, but this is a Spirit of God that dwells in us already—a gift given to us through the death and resurrection of Jesus. This isn’t something we need to go out and seek, on a rocky outcropping or elsewhere; this is something we find within ourselves. It’s already there. We do not need to deny ourselves; rather, we need to discover the true fulfillment of what God has made inside us.
When Paul tells the Romans “the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God,” I suspect that he isn’t talking so much about the deficiencies of the flesh as the deficiencies of our focus. If our bodies were evil, why would God give them to us, provide for us, and instruct us through Jesus and through the prophets before him to provide for others?
Rather, the hostility comes when we neglect to note that our bodies are only part of what makes us humans beloved by God—and they’re not the most complicated part. What goes on inside our heads is more complicated than anything in the mechanics of our arms and legs and digestive systems. Any of us who has attempted an athletic feat or other effort requiring physical skill will recognize that it is often our minds that form the limiting factor upon our progress. We have a difficult time getting past the mental barriers we erect to focus on our own possibilities.
Paul instructs us to recognize that in our relationship with God, we cannot let our flesh become the limiting factor. We are more than earthly bodies; our most intricate parts are the minds that allow us to experience the Spirit of God in our lives. We need not be constrained by the physical, because Jesus has surmounted those barriers for us. Rather, remaining open to all the good things God has in store for us, we can move into the fulfillment of his plan.
** A minor disclaimer, followed by the the obligatory first-posting explanatory paragraph **
First, the disclaimer, just to get that out of the way: I wrote this several weeks ago for a church Lenten devotional.
Second, the explanatory paragraph: I find that I process questions of faith best through my fingers. I can try to meditate from here to next Tuesday, but all I'll wind up thinking about is my latest topic o' obsession, the laundry or whether I need to go to the grocery store tomorrow. When I begin to write, I find that my thoughts are more organized, my contemplation is more focused and occasionally, I even produce something that might be of benefit to someone else. This new blog is an outlet that will force me to ponder, to pray, to type--and perhaps God working through me will occasionally provide some food for another's journey.
To set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. For this reason the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God; it does not submit to God’s law—indeed it cannot, and those who are in the flesh cannot please God.
But you are not in the flesh; you are in the Spirit, since the Spirit of God dwells in you. Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him. But if Christ is in you, though the body is dead because of sin, the Spirit is life because of righteousness. If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit that dwells in you. (NRSV)
At first glance I can see this particular passage as being a good argument for monasticism. “To set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace”—seems like a charge to forget earthly desires and go find a beehive hut on a rocky outcropping off the coast of Ireland somewhere, doesn’t it?
I’m reminded, however, of the “problems” early Irish monks experienced when they went to set up shop as the northern equivalent of the desert fathers. They wanted to live ascetic lives of devotion, dedicating themselves to the life of the Spirit and living only upon what God provided… but, annoyingly, God provided with such abundance in their fecund climate that within months they were living far better than they believed any isolated hermit really should be living. After all, a few old scraps deposited outside the door of a hut in the pastoral environs of County Kilkenny will yield a lush, richly watered garden in short order.
While the monastic life may have its benefits, I suspect that perhaps Paul was trying to get at something a little different in this passage. He speaks of life in the Spirit, but this is a Spirit of God that dwells in us already—a gift given to us through the death and resurrection of Jesus. This isn’t something we need to go out and seek, on a rocky outcropping or elsewhere; this is something we find within ourselves. It’s already there. We do not need to deny ourselves; rather, we need to discover the true fulfillment of what God has made inside us.
When Paul tells the Romans “the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God,” I suspect that he isn’t talking so much about the deficiencies of the flesh as the deficiencies of our focus. If our bodies were evil, why would God give them to us, provide for us, and instruct us through Jesus and through the prophets before him to provide for others?
Rather, the hostility comes when we neglect to note that our bodies are only part of what makes us humans beloved by God—and they’re not the most complicated part. What goes on inside our heads is more complicated than anything in the mechanics of our arms and legs and digestive systems. Any of us who has attempted an athletic feat or other effort requiring physical skill will recognize that it is often our minds that form the limiting factor upon our progress. We have a difficult time getting past the mental barriers we erect to focus on our own possibilities.
Paul instructs us to recognize that in our relationship with God, we cannot let our flesh become the limiting factor. We are more than earthly bodies; our most intricate parts are the minds that allow us to experience the Spirit of God in our lives. We need not be constrained by the physical, because Jesus has surmounted those barriers for us. Rather, remaining open to all the good things God has in store for us, we can move into the fulfillment of his plan.
** A minor disclaimer, followed by the the obligatory first-posting explanatory paragraph **
First, the disclaimer, just to get that out of the way: I wrote this several weeks ago for a church Lenten devotional.
Second, the explanatory paragraph: I find that I process questions of faith best through my fingers. I can try to meditate from here to next Tuesday, but all I'll wind up thinking about is my latest topic o' obsession, the laundry or whether I need to go to the grocery store tomorrow. When I begin to write, I find that my thoughts are more organized, my contemplation is more focused and occasionally, I even produce something that might be of benefit to someone else. This new blog is an outlet that will force me to ponder, to pray, to type--and perhaps God working through me will occasionally provide some food for another's journey.
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