April 3, 2022
For our teaching this morning, Sito Sasieta read the following paragraphs written by our former pastor, Gordon Cosby. Following the reading, members who were present, either in person or via Zoom, shared their reflections.
In Christ, old things have passed away; all things become new. He is saying that the whole basis upon which we operate is different. Our values and the way we view life change. Our whole motivational system is new.
First of all, one is freed from the horrible burden of viewing life as demand, as oughtness, as duty, as obligation, and from the unspeakable pressure of trying to meet the demand. Instead, he sees life as "gift." To accept, to know the love of Jesus Christ, is to see life as gift, to see it as grace, to see it as feast, as banquet, because Jesus Christ is the gift of God. Thanks be to God for his unspeakable gift! For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son.
Next, one is freed from the unconscious but very constant attempt to make atonement for one’s inability to live up to the demands which press in on him. Every man knows he is not faithful in living up to these demands and he keeps trying to make atonement— often subtly and sometimes in ways not so subtle. Christ comes primarily as Savior, not as Accuser,,., and to know Jesus Christ is to know him as Savior.
The mood of life, when one lives his way into the meaning of being saved by Jesus Christ, becomes one of praise, of gratitude, expectancy, freedom, excitement, wonder, newness, and a feeling of "What gift will be bestowed upon me today?" rather than wondering what will be required of one today.
In all of this is the gift of the Holy Spirit. It takes place in the very deeps of our being. I have a feeling that the people who talk most freely about this new birth are the ones who understand it least, because it is so fundamental and so radical. A unique self begins to emerge. That which was there, though imprisoned, begins to break forth.
That elusive thing we call the self begins to take shape. That winsomeness which shone through only in spots, and recognizable only by those of special discernment, comes through now more strongly, consistently, and visibly to many more people.
We become free enough, safe enough, for unique traits (endearing traits which possibly only a discerning parent ever saw, and which have been lost somewhere along the way) to emerge again. That which is essentially ourselves and which got tied up, traumatized, imprisoned, begins to come forth.
This new birth does not impose on the personality something which is alien to it; it brings into actuality, into fullness, that which was always there — those sensitive feelings, those yearnings, those longings, those tastes, that tenderer dimension of our natures which somehow has always embarrassed us. One day we become aware that we are no longer afraid of that tenderer dimension of our natures. New strengths begin to emerge, new consistencies, new capacities, new humilities. A mysterious new being is being fashioned and at the heart of this becoming is the divine action. It is a mystery; we call it the Holy Spirit. Jesus Christ is at work and is making us fully human. He is bringing into being the new humanity ready to be a part of the new creation, to live with God eternally.
Christ makes each of us something unlike any other creation ever fashioned by God — something wonderful, exciting, unique and something strangely needed in the total Body of Christ. This uniqueness, this very self which is so hard to describe, this charismatic person, is the gift of the Holy Spirit. It is the primary gift that we bring to the Body, and without it the Body is immeasurably impoverished.
Now, since the calling forth of the uniqueness is God's mission, it seems self-evident that this is primary calling as Christians. We are to call forth the gifts of other people, to set them free, to throw the lifeline to them and be the one who, under God, helps a person discover that for which he was created.
The question is, how to call forth the gifts in others? It is amazing how long we can be with people and not call forth any gifts. In fact we often do just the opposite. But to love a person means to help him recognize his uniqueness and to discover his gifts.
I think a person begins to be really helpful in calling forth the gifts of others when he understands and employs his own charisma, when he himself is functioning in freedom and doing what he wants to do, when his "oughtness" is eliminated and he can have the time of his life —it will be life to him. The genuineness of one's freedom is easily discernible and the element of duty or oughtness is also easily discernible. Children discern their charisma, their uniqueness as it unfolds, when mothers enjoy being mothers, and fathers being fathers. They are seeing parenthood as a gift, not as demand. But without the exercise of the charisma of motherhood or fatherhood, the charisma of the child is not drawn forth. One of the difficulties which family life has is too much oughtness, too much demand, too much keeping the machinery going.
The counseling of another is effective only to the extent that one employs this skill in freedom and doesn't help the other person merely because he feels he ought to. Preaching or teaching are effective when they are free, spontaneous, and cheerful, rather than some sort of exhibitionism. There is nothing more difficult to bear than a false gaiety and cheerfulness which form a protective coating. But a genuine cheerfulness is a form of faith and is a corollary of the free exercise of one's own gifts. Jesus says, "In the world ye shall know tribulation." You are going to be up against all sorts of things, but "Be of good cheer, I have overcome the world." This is what he said to person after person. He didn't mean "Cheer up!” in the superficial, saccharine way we often do. The cheerfulness he was talking about is a characteristic of a person who is exercising his charisma in freedom.
I think all of us had best find out what we really want to do and start doing it and whatever it involves. If you have to give up your responsibility, give it up; if the church goes to pieces, so be it. But we've got to find what we want to do, really, because nothing else is going to help anybody.
In calling out the gifts of others, somehow we'll have to stop trying to control them. We'll have to learn something of the meaning of detachment. Joe Knowles tells this story: Joe was running one of his therapy groups and something began to happen which was very exciting and also very threatening. Joe started to control the discussion so the group would work out right and the situation wouldn't get out of hand, and as he was tempted to do this, God spoke to him and said, "Joe Knowles, take your hands off the group." He obeyed for a few minutes, took his hands off and let the group continue to move. But he became a bit anxious again and started to get in there to control it. God spoke to him again and said, "Joe Knowles, take your hands off the group." He obeyed for a few minutes, then started again. This time God said, "Joe Knowles, take your cotton-picking hands off that group!” When God speaks in sectional language, he's more likely to get through.
We have the feeling that if we do take our hands off — what in the world might emerge! We might not like what would emerge in our husband, or wife, or friends. Our church might become something entirely different from what it is now. We are afraid to take our hands off, although what we wind up with, what we fashion is hardly worth having. In subtle and overt ways we try to mold others, until our closest friends are in a straitjacket. The Holy Spirit will work if we just release the person and let any sort of strange concoction emerge. It is the hardest thing in the world to release one who is meaningful to us and to stop clutching and fashioning.
God has not created a single person whose essence and uniqueness are not eternally needed. He will keep longing for you and for me and keep reaching out for us; he will keep searching for that one lost sheep until we discover our charisma. The only way we can really take our hands off, when we love a person, is by committing him in a new way to God's care, to God s love. It is being willing to trust God for whatever strange new work may emerge in the person we release.