Experience or Revelation

I am seeing a pattern: Oswald places premium value on relationship with Jesus Christ but rather low value on personal experience. This recurring theme both intrigues and befuddles me. What is relationship other than personal experience? I can know something about C.S. Lewis by reading his books -- by loving his books -- and by reading books about him, but I cannot say I have a relationship with him. I would like to have had such a relationship -- to have sat under his teaching, dined with him and Joy, asked him questions -- but I did not and cannot since he is dead.

Of course, there is a sharp distinction between my ability to know C.S. Lewis and my ability to know God, and it lies in the II Corinthians passage associated with today's reading. The Spirit knows the mind of God and shares his mind with us that "we may understand what God has freely given us," (II Cor. 2:12).

The Holy Spirit. The Comforter. The Counselor. The Person of the Trinity with whom I am least familiar, least comfortable, least informed. God the Father created the world and holds it in place, ordained the beginning and the end. He's the Boss, sovereign, supreme. God the Son became man, experienced the frailty of human existence, died on the cross for our sins, and rose from the dead -- Savior of the world. God the Spirit . . . what?

A bit about my spiritual upbringing: I grew up in the Baptist church -- first Southern, then American. I cried at the end of the service for weeks before I went forward at Immanuel Baptist Church in Lincoln, Nebraska, and I wore a pretty pink matching sweater set when I was baptized in a pool at the front of the church a few weeks later. My parents took us to Sunday school every Sunday without fail, and I learned the Bible stories well. Repeatedly at summer camp and revivals, I felt convicted of the weight of my sin and recommitted my life to Christ. I say none of that in jest. I believe my young heart was sincere.

In high school, however, I was heavily influenced by my older brother's new belief in a doctrine called election. Even though it painted God in a whole new light, I couldn't seem to refute the scriptural arguments my brother presented, and over the next fifteen years, I became progressively more and more reformed in my thinking. Looking back, I'm fairly convinced that the more reformed I became, the less I understood the work of the Holy Spirit in my life. Please don't misunderstand me: I love the beauty of the reformed tradition, and I am still solidly convinced of its truth. Somehow, however, in the beauty of those truths, I lost a sense of God's personal concern and involvement in my life.

Faith alone. Grace alone. Scripture alone. Of those three pillars of the reformed tradition, Scripture alone was paramount in my mind. God revealed himself through Scripture and through his Son. Period. Supernatural revelation ended with the closing of the Canon. At least, this was how I understood the doctrine, and so, when someone referred to God speaking to him, I was suspect. I was also suspect of supernatural healing, speaking in tongues, present-day miracles of any kind. To be honest, I am still suspect, but I have a few huge, towering questions for myself: What do you believe the Holy Spirit does? What does the reformed tradition allow that he does? What does Scripture say that he does?

Oswald writes: "Redemption has no meaning for me until it speaks the language of my conscious life. When I am born again, the Spirit of God takes me right out of myself and my experiences, and identifies me with Jesus Christ. . . My experiences are not worth anything unless they keep me at the Source, Jesus Christ. . . Faith that is sure of itself is not faith; faith that is sure of God is the only faith there is."

A faith that permeates the language of my conscious life, keeps me identified with Jesus and sure of God -- that's what I want.

Barbara