Thrown for a Loop

All discipline for the moment seems not to be joyful, but sorrowful; yet to those who have been trained by it, afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness.  Hebrews 12:11

Sorrowful – Ever been thrown for a loop?  This English idiom describes what it feels like to be battered by experience.  It’s not very pleasant.  That’s what’s it like to be disciplined.  It hurts.  Children don’t like it.  Neither do adults.  The sting of conscience, the humility of correction and the disgrace of admission cut a pretty wide path through our hearts.  So, when the author of Hebrews uses the Greek word lupe, he has a lot more in mind than unhappy feelings.  In fact, we would understand this word’s meaning far better if we stuck to the older translation – grievous.  Grief and trouble come with discipline.  Correction without pain has almost no chance of changing behavior.  If you don’t believe that, take a look at the lives of celebrities.   No consequences means no improvement.

Of course, we know this, don’t we?  That’s why we discipline our children.  We know that in the long run, correction applied will result in better lives.  Then we grow up.  We think we are adults.  We don’t want any more of that discipline stuff.  We forget that from God’s perspective we will always be children.  That doesn’t mean we will always exist on a diet for babies.  It means that God will always be ready and willing to discipline us in order to bring about changes that we need.  The reason we chaff under this correction is because we really don’t think we need to improve.  We like things the way that they are.  But God doesn’t.  He is interested in pushing us, sometimes with a great deal of force, toward lives of utter dependence and constant holiness.  He wants His image-bearers to reflect His own character.  Whatever gets in the way of that goal will have to be scrubbed away.

Because I am quite human, I don’t like grief-producing discipline.  I want a happy life.  Therefore, when grief and trouble show up at my door, I would just as soon not answer.  My happiness quotient is threatened.  Sometimes I run and hide.  Sometimes I pretend I don’t hear them knocking.  But usually I complain, “God, why can’t I just be happy?”  “Why do you have to make life so hard?”  If I have enough sense to listen, God will reply.

“This momentary trouble is My way of disturbing your inadequate assumptions about life.  I want you to grow.  In fact, you need to grow.  You need to become stronger – in your outlook and your actions – if you are going to be ready for the assignment I have for you.  I will never ask for more than you can handle, with My help, of course.  But I will ask.  And that means I will have to train you so you will be ready to answer.”

My wife says that I complain too much.  She’s right.  I should listen to her.  I just don’t like being disciplined.  I just want to be happy.  But God wants me to be holy!  There’s a big difference.

How do you suppose life would change if we saw grief and trouble as God’s development tools?

Subscribe
Notify of
0 Comments
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments