Three Simple Rules: A Daily Routine to Build Our Spiritual Core

Have you ever wondered why we're called Methodists?  Much like the term Christian, it began as a derogatory reference to John Wesley and his "Bible thumping" buddies at Oxford.  It seems Mr. Wesley had lots of methodical rules for the small groups (bands, classes, etc.) that formed all over England and, later, in the United States.  The rules could get quite involved at times, with a whole series of questions that participants needed to answer each time they met.  However, when he summarized things, he boiled them down to three essential rules.  They are:

1)    Do no harm;

2)    Do all the good you can; and

3)    Attend the ordinances of God—that you might stay in love with God.

 The Three Simple Rules work together to build our spiritual core.

Following these rules provides a good daily routine to strengthen our spiritual core.  They train us to be able to do what needs doing when it needs to be done—which is a good definition of a disciplined person.  They are simple rules—just like a plank is a simple exercise.  We can recite them from  memory at a very young age.  But, like the plank exercise, the challenge comes as we try to “hold our position” for increasing amounts of time, as in over the course of a lifetime.  Wesley spoke of "moving on toward perfection."  While we don't achieve the goal on this side of eternity, he honestly thought a daily regimen of these three simple rules could help us make significant progress—and along the way, Methodists could make a positive impact on society for the common good of all.  

Wesley’s third rule contains what I think of as the foundation for the other two: attending the ordinances of God.  

We could use the terms spiritual practices or spiritual disciplines interchangeably with ordinances of God.  These are things within our power to do that allow us to tap into a Power beyond ourselves.  Christ-followers practice activities like prayer, fasting, study, worship, and service, to “stay in love with God,” or to stay connected to God.  In fact, many things we do in life can function as ordinances of God.  The key is not the activity itself, but that the activity helps us create space in our life for God to act, with the result being that we are drawn closer to God.  

Strengthening Our Spiritual Core

One of the exercises I do when I work out is called a plank.  In its essence, the plank is simple : You take “push-up” position and hold it—and keep holding for as long as you can.  It sounds straightforward enough, but trust me, they are quite challenging.  Warning: If you've never done them: They will kick your butt; but they'll strengthen it too.  

You may want to start with low (standard) planks [shown below] as they put less strain on the wrists.  I went  straight to advanced,  but it wasn't because I'm Super Plank Dude.  Nah,  I simply didn't know any better when I started doing them a few months back.   COVID-19 closed down my gym, and I was forced  to completely rework my workout almost overnight.   I looked up exercises I could to do at home and I saw the advanced version of planks on a YouTube video and started doing them that way. 

Plank Position

High Plank (Advanced)

Low Plank (Standard)

I can only hold (advanced) plank position for a couple minutes, so far.  I felt pretty good about my progress, until I read recently that the Guinness Book of World Records reports that the record time for holding plank position is 8 hours and 10 minutes!!  Sigh… Oh well, I guess when it comes to doing planks: Much to learn I still have. 

Overall, doing planks is a great way to build core strength.  In other words, they don’t work one muscle group intensely like many other exercises do.  Instead, the exercise enhances a wide range of muscles throughout your entire body: e.g., biceps, abs, obliques, glutes, quads.  There are variations where you do the plank on your side, or lifting your legs, to build up your obliques and other muscles.   

I think it was while holding plank position one day that this thought occurred to me: Is there a spiritual equivalent of the plank exercise?  In other words, is there a routine we could follow or are there certain spiritual practices that train our whole spiritual body and enhance all the other practices?  Theologian Dallas Willard suggests that silence and solitude function in this manner.  Another way of saying it is that these two are gateway practices that help prime us for other practices.  I’d add contemplative prayer as another core practice, and also worship.

Gateway practices have an interesting parallel to the plank exercise.  When I take plank position, the goal is to hold my body still and to focus on holding my position.  (I’ve actually been known to sing the song Still while doing a plank.)  So, practicing planks trains me to hold my position physically for increasing periods of time. Likewise, when I engage in practices like silence, solitude, contemplative prayer, and worship, they teach me to hold my position spiritually for extended periods. 

Or to say it another way, while doing planks strengthens my physical core, these gateway practices strengthen my spiritual core. 

We need a well-developed spiritual core to navigate our world today.  The ongoing COVID-19 isolation has been a challenge for most of us.  We’ve had to adjust to conducting much of our lives virtually, and we long for face-to-face interactions, which we used to take for granted.  It’s not just work-related and church-related meetings that had to move online almost overnight, it’s educational activities for all ages, as well as life milestones, such as graduations and birthday parties that had to be done virtually.  At our core, we are relational beings.  Although social media, Zoom, and Teams can facilitate some of that interaction, it’s not the same as seeing someone face-to-face.  No matter how good the computer interface becomes, there will inevitably be a gap between the virtual world and the real one.  Without a strong spiritual core, without a life grounded in God, we run the risk of getting “lost in the gap.”    

And now, on top of the pandemic, we add the heightened tension in recent weeks in our nation over America’s original sin of racism.  It’s so woven into the very fabric of how our nation began, that we often accept it as the way things are without questioning it.  It’s always been there in the background, and at times it rears its ugly head, but it quickly gets pushed back under the rug.  It had erupted to the surface several times over the last few years (e.g., Ferguson, MO and Baltimore, MD), but each time there was so much else going on in the world that we could easily find excuses not to confront the issue of racism. But then came 2020, when the COVID-19 pandemic bought much of life as we know to a screeching halt.  We were suddenly largely confined to our homes.  We had more time to pay attention to deeper things.  This time in isolation has become like a crucible for confronting long-standing societal issues like racism.

Maybe that’s why many of us noticed the recent string of racial incidents so much more keenly than we had in the past. Then again, it might be just because they were so blatant, it reached a point where we just couldn’t in good conscience ignore them any longer.  First Ahmad Arbery, fatally shot simply because he had the misfortune of taking a jog in the “wrong neighborhood”; then Breonna Taylor, killed by police during a home invasion; and most recently, George Floyd, murdered in cold blood by a white police officer in Minneapolis while his fellow officers stood and watched. 

If the first two ignited the spark on dry brush that is racism in our nation’s collective conscious, then the last one was kerosene poured upon it.  The whole ugly George Floyd affair was captured on video for all the world to watch: 8 minutes and 46 seconds of pure unedited horror.  The words, “I can’t breathe,” became etched in our minds eye—and perhaps finally pierced our hearts of stone?  (The jury is still out on this.)  And yet it still took a week for the officers to be charged with crimes.  Protests ensued in many places in our country and even around the world.  In some cases, there was also violence, looting, and rioting (which Dr. King once called “the language of the unheard.”)

As followers of Christ, and particularly as white Christians, we must train ourselves to hold our position and not look away from this too fast.  I can draw an analogy to holding plank position during a workout.  It’s strenuous for sure—even painful; my entire body shakes toward the end.  There’s always the temptation when I exercise to “skip the plank just this once.”  But only if I stick with it over time do I see results: My core grows stronger.

Likewise, when it comes to conversations on race, we’ve got to train ourselves to hold our position—even when doing so gets painful—as opposed to deflecting the conversation to make us feel more comfortable.  As an example, this is what I believe happens every time someone responds to the political statement that, “black lives matter,” with the more inclusive sounding, “all lives matter.”  

It’s not that this counterclaim isn’t true.  Of course, all human lives matter to God.  It’s just that making this statement has deflected the focus from where it needs to be right now—at this moment in history—and I think, whether we’re consciously aware of it or not, that was the whole reason we said it in the first place.  

As we train our spiritual core, we will develop the capacity to see ourselves as we really are.   We will be able to hold our position long enough to see the truth—even when doing so becomes painful for us.  Jesus said, “the truth will set us free,” but that can only happen if we acknowledge it. 

Racism is a nuanced issue that defies a simple binary (i.e., good versus bad) solution and demands spiritual core strength—from all parties involved—to be effectively engaged.

We cannot make progress unless we can have honest and frank dialogue about this difficult topic.  In order for this to happen, we need to learn to truly listen to one another, so that we hear what’s being said and let the implication of those words sink in.  We must discipline ourselves against the knee-jerk tendency to drop into defensive mode when we become uncomfortable, and to default to well-worn habits of deflection whenever we're challenged to confront racism.  

In short, we must develop the ability to listen when people of color tell us something is so and resist the urge to whitesplain it away.   

I would also add that we as whites don’t get to set the agenda for this conversation—like we’ve done for centuries. While we can—and we must—contribute to the discussion, we cannot lead it.  We must let ourselves be led.

So, do your planks and say your prayers; strengthen your physical and spiritual core and prepare for what lies ahead—even though you’re not sure what role will be yours to play.  Sit in stillness, so you can discern when God calls you to act.  Be silent, so you’ll know when your voice is needed—and when you need to listen.  Just as in John Wesley’s day, our world longs for disciplined people who do no harm, do good, and who—even in the midst of the chaos and confusion of the present moment—train themselves to stay in love with God.  

-->

Pentecost: Propelled by the Spirit's Downburst

We have recently celebrated Pentecost.  Christians call it the “Birthday of the Church,” when God’s Holy Spirit poured out upon those who had gathered in Jerusalem for Shavuot, or the Festival of Weeks, a harvest celebration.  Just as it had happened when Jesus instituted Holy Communion and gave the Passover (Festival of Unleavened Bread) a new meaning, early followers of Christ infused the Shavuot Festival with deeper meaning.   Now, the celebration focused not merely on the ephemeral abundance of the wheat harvest, but on the absolute abundance of God’s Presence.  

How should we envision this overflowing Spirit?   In the Bible, the book of Acts is the second volume of Luke’s epic tale of the life of Jesus and the history of the early church.  In Acts, Luke, the physician—and master storyteller—presents his orderly account to Theopolis (which means “friend of God,” and could be an individual, but is more likely a reference to all readers) of how the church was born, and how it spread systematically from Jerusalem,  in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth—Acts 1:8.  

Two images Luke uses to describe the Pentecost experience are a “violent wind” and “flames descending”—see Acts 2:1-13.  

Diagram of a thunderstorm showing downdraft/downburst and
gust fronts spreading out from the base. 

As I imagine the “violent wind,” I envision a thunderstorm’s downdraft, where air (and also moisture) rushes down from above and spreads out at the base of the cloud.  An extreme case is called a downburst, which pushes out strong gusts of winds in all directions. 

Just out of curiosity, I checked to see if, and how frequently, Jerusalem experiences thunderstorms.  Interestingly, one of the first articles I saw was from a May 5, 2020 account of “rare” spring thunderstorms impacting Israel.

Of course, Pentecost would’ve been in the spring, so God could’ve used a natural event to deliver the Spirit.  It would’ve been unusual to have an intense storm occur during Shavuot—but not impossible.  Anyone who has ever set straight up in their bed at night after hearing a clap of thunder or seeing and intense lightning flash knows a thunderstorm can certainly get your attention!

Furthermore, meteorology could even account for the “tongues of flame.”  There is a type of downburst called a heart burst that is associated with rapid increases in temperature, low humidity, and strong winds—the perfect conditions to spread a fire. In addition, pyrocumulonimbus clouds form over extremely hot areas like forest fires or volcanoes.  The long word combines pyro, the Latin word for fire, with cumulonimbus, which is the Latin name of the high anvil shaped clouds that commonly produce thunderstorms.  These so-called “dragon clouds” can rise to the upper troposphere (10 km, or about 6.2 mi); sometimes they even pierce the lower stratosphere. They may involve precipitation (although its usually light), hail, lightning, extreme low-level winds, and in some cases even tornadoes.  In some cases, they can literally "rain down" fire!

Whether the Pentecost experience has a completely natural or entirely otherworldly explanation will never be certain.  I tend to think it might’ve been both natural and divine, but in the end, to me, the facts aren’t as important as the act.  Clearly God acted powerfully and profoundly on what we now know as the day of Pentecost.  The best evidence we have of that is the transforming impact it had on those who were there.  Up until this point in the story, the men who were Jesus’s closest friends during his life were hardly stellar examples of faithful followers.  Judas, of course, had betrayed Jesus and was already dead—replaced by Matthias in Acts 1:12-26.  Peter had denied Jesus, even after he confidently (and somewhat arrogantly) promised that “Even if all fall away, Lord, I never will.”  It seems that when the pressure mounted, the so-called Rock of the Church turned out to be very soft stone.  One could say the Rock crumbled under pressure.  We tend to single out Peter, but indeed, it was true of all of them.  When he needed them most, they abandoned him—and we do the same thing all too frequently.  

Fast-forward to about fifty days after the Resurrection.  Picture the scene.  The disciples gather together to celebrate Shavuot.  The downburst of the Holy Spirit fills the room where they are meeting together and “propels” them out into the streets, where a large and diverse crowd of festive Jews from all around the known world are gathered for the Festival.   The Galileans are speaking, but it seems everyone can understand?!  The Curse of Babel is suddenly and miraculously reversed.  Language is no longer a barrier; communication between believers in Jesus flows freely.  To those involved, it is glorious.  There can be no other conclusion: The Holy Spirit, which Jesus promised them would come “with power,” is finally here! 

But what about the ordinary people living in Jerusalem at the time, taking all this in from the outside?  Keep in mind that the population of the city surges every time one of these Jewish festivals happens, no doubt making them grumble about having to share space with so many outsiders.  How does Pentecost make them feel—particularly the non-Jewish onlookers?  What does this diverse crowd spilling into the streets look like to them?  What does it sound like?  Did they see and/or hear the Spirit’s arrival too?  Are they threatened by all of this?  What about the shopkeepers?  They often lived directly above their shop.  Are they concerned for the safety of their place of business when this crowd takes to the streets?  Were they worried that things might escalate and get out of hand?  Did they look to the Roman authorities to restore “law and order”?

We can only speculate about all those questions.  As Luke tells the story, there was a mixed reaction to what was unfolding in their city.  To paraphrase Acts 2:12-13, some were genuinely curious about what all the commotion in the streets was about, and others, as humans are wont to be, were cynical.  To put it in our modern vernacular, we might imagine them saying something like:

Yeah, you’re filled with the spirit alright.  But isn’t it a little early in the day to be indulging?

In the midst of this comes a shining moment for Peter—see Acts 2:14-36.  Before now, he has shown flashes of Kingdom eloquence, but he’s struggled to put it all together.  But today he gets it, emphatically stating that what happened today is the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecies.  He quotes the prophet Joel among others, who predicted a day when God will pour out his Spirit on all people.  Peter gives a compelling presentation of the Gospel—of Christ crucified and risen.  He makes it clear in no uncertain terms who’s responsible for killing Jesus.  He closes his sermon by saying, “Therefore let the entire house of Israel know with certainty that God has made him both Lord and Messiah, this Jesus whom you crucified.”

On Pentecost, Peter proves himself to be the person that Jesus knew he had the potential to become all along.  The fires of Pentecost begin the metamorphosis of the Rock.  In Acts, God gradually transforms Peter from the soft sediment seen in the Gospels into a durable diamond.    

Caught up in the Spirit’s downburst, Peter and all his friends are no longer confined to a building. They are sent out into the streets of Jerusalem, into the surrounding countryside, into the cities of the Roman Empire, and ultimately into the entire world, to proclaim the Good News that Jesus is Lord.

In a way, followers of Jesus are called to offer a form of peaceful protest against the dominant powers of our world—and also to proclaim that it is possible to live a different way.  

Jesus promised the Spirit would come with power—and now that power resides in us!  Our vocation, just as it was for those first Apostles, is to evoke that power and stand against evil and injustice whenever and wherever we encounter them, and in whatever forms they present themselves.  For United Methodists, this is part of what we promise to do when we become members of a church.

I think the chorus of the song “Did You Feel the Mountains Tremble” really sums up the call of Pentecost—and I find it especially poignant in light of current events in our world today.  

Open up the doors and let the music play!

Let the streets resound with singing!

Songs that bring your hope,

Songs that bring your joy,

Dancers who dance upon injustice!

As America’s original sin of racism continues to divide us and as violence besieges our cities, this chorus reads like a Joel-like vision of God’s intended future for the human race. Owing to the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic, we’ve been forced to “close the doors” of our church buildings for several months now.  However, this refrain reminds us that dreaming dreams, seeing visions, dancing on injustice, singing songs of praise, and proclaiming hope and joy, are all meant to be “business as usual” for the people of God.  Eventually, our church doors will reopen, and we will gather in our building for worship.  While I look forward to that day, I hope we never stop being propelled by the Spirit’s downburst out into the world to boldly proclaim to all people the absolute abundance of God’s love.