Eternal Perspectives

William Meisheid (WM) at Beyond the Rim has me reclining on his couch once again with his insightful question/comment,

Mike, would say that your mother’s death [several months ago as of this writing] threw you back into ‘Moratorium’?”

He has his own thoughts on spiritual formation in a post, Your Christian Identity, at his site. I would encourage you to read it before going any further in my post (although, if you’re like me, you won’t do that) because I’m going to interact with some of his thoughts as expressed there.

At the moment, however, let me provide the remainder of WM’s comment to my original post before responding, elaborating, and interacting with his comment and post.

In investigating this further it would be interesting to know if secondary moratoriums (subsequent periods of questioning) are different in character from the first and primary moratorium (the initial period of questioning) or just in degree.

“I have an intuitive sense that the first moratorium is the most dangerous while the subsequent ones have a bit of a safety net of the former settled identity. If you will, there is a bias toward the foundations of your accepted identity, so that Schaefer was not at the same risk as a teenage Baptist going through their first grasp at identity. In addition, there [are] the many touchstones the Holy Spirit has placed in our life that give us something to hold onto when the winds on the mount of exploration and question get too blustery.”

To begin, I’ll answer WM’s initial question, i.e., did my mother’s death in October result in another moratorium for me? The short answer is no, it did not, for reasons that will become apparent later.¹ Actually, if anything had been able to hurl me back into moratorium, it would have been the realizations as reflected in my post of Aug 19 of last year, Losing My Way. But, in my view, even that horrific, gracious congealment of slowly developing thoughts² did not lead to a regression into moratorium.

WM also asks, albeit indirectly, if “secondary moratoriums (subsequent periods of questioning) are different in character from the first and primary moratorium (the initial period of questioning) or just in degree.” I would rephrase the implied question to, “Are there differences between the initial moratorium, subsequent moratoriums, and the final, immutable move to identity achievement?”

Before expounding on my own question, I need to quote from WM’s post (since you probably didn’t read it when I told you to!):

An interesting analogy I once toyed with was looking at a Christian’s life like a remodeling project. God doesn’t come in with a bulldozer and just scrape the ground clean. He knocks at our door, comes in when invited (Revelation 3:20) and sits down with us, taking up residence. Then like a skillful remodeler He begins working with us to redo our abode, who we are, all the while never destroying what it was that made us us the unique person we are. However, remodeling requires demolition, tearing down some of the who/what we defined ourselves as being and often this is related to our acceptance of how others defined us and established us in who we were. When the construction begins on the replacement portion, it makes that part of us truly our own, built with our own hands, by our own decisions, albeit through the grace and sovereignty of God. (I guess this is where I expose my tendency to lean, at least a little bit, towards a more eastern co-operative view of God’s sovereignty).

“From my viewpoint this remodeling goes on until the end of our days here on this earth. Many people only do some minor painting and wallpapering. Others tear out a wall or two or redo a room. Some gut the kitchen or bath and do a major overhaul. A few go all the way and systematically over the course of their life rebuild the whole structure, even to the point of tearing out some of the early efforts now that they have gotten better at seeing what needs to be done.”

The analogy of a house is a good one, having been used before (if I’m not mistaken) by our Lord. WM is discussing the process of sanctification, not salvation (hence his referral to Rev 3.20), in his illustration, but I would go back a bit further.

Allow me to begin by answering the last part of my own question posed above concerning “the final, immutable move to identity achievement.” There is but one enduring, permanent move from moratorium to identity achievement, and that is the moment when a person irresistably chooses to accept his or her election and expresses saving faith in the substitutionary, atoning work of Jesus Christ. That, as Christ says, is the equivalent of

a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and slammed against that house; and yet it did not fall, for it had been founded on the rock.” – Mt 7.24-25

Prior to commitment to Christ, there can be any number of moratoriums for people whether due to necessity or other reasons. This is reflected in other observations of Christ at the conclusion of His sermon on the mount:

Everyone who hears these words of Mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and slammed against that house; and it fell — and great was its fall.” – 7.26-27

If a house (one’s sense of identity) is built on sand, it can be destroyed by life or demolished willingly by the owner of the house. Each time involves a move back to moratorium to re-evaluate and then reconstruct one’s fragile sense of self.

Not so, of course, with the believer who has built upon the True Foundation, which is Christ (1 Cor 3.11). That foundation is immovable and indestructible: nothing can undo the foundation which has been laid through faith in Jesus as the Christ. If it is not obvious by now, then let me state clearly that I believe in the eternal security of the believer, based on the powerful preservation and promise of the Savior. Once that foundation is in place, there are no subsequent true moratoriums.

But that is not to say that there are not periods of doubt, searching, and struggling. Once again, the Bible provides the explanation of and the answer for such periods of time. As WM notes, God is at work in us – with our cooperation – to conform us to the image of Jesus Christ so that we may approach (but never attain in this lifetime) practically what He has already declared us to be forensically: perfect and complete, lacking in nothing (Jas 1.4), a bride “having no spot or wrinkle or any such thing; but that she would be holy and blameless” (Eph 5.27).

Our problems arise not due to the foundation which is Jesus Christ, but due to our own misunderstanding, immaturity, and inability to build upon that foundation with the foundational teachings of the apostles and prophets (Eph 2.20) as recorded in Scripture. Due to the sinful world in which we live and the sin nature which wrestles with the Spirit who is in us, we create structures upon the foundation of Christ that are not always – or ever – wholly desirable.

What happened to me over the course of the last five months was not a regression into moratorium but a visit from my indwelling Housing Inspector – the Holy Spirit – who spilled His light onto my superstructure, revealing something that was terribly out-of-line with not only His blueprint for me but the one to which I had committed myself over 31 years ago. The house did not fall – the foundation would not allow it – but I was suddenly face-to-face with my careless construction. The house could not serve the purpose for which it had been designed because I had deviated from the blueprint.

To say I had deviated does not mean that I was unfamiliar with the blueprint but that I failed to apply that which I knew about the plans to the actual construction of my life. I had built walls in unnecessary places and failed to build walls where they were critical. The exterior decoration and appearance of the house that I am was, for many years, acceptable to and approved by me and those around me; the illuminating inspection, however, brought to light my structure as being garish, indulgent, fat, lazy, and ugly. Horrific as it was to see what I had built – both inside and out, regardless of the world/church said – it was the love and grace of God that opened my eyes. Now I will seek to be content with “a dry morsel and quietness with it” instead of clinging to “a house full of feasting with strife” (Pr 17.1).

All of this is to say that, while it may feel like another period of moratorium, such is not possible for the true believer in Jesus Christ. Painful illuminations are possible and even desirable, but to abandon the foundation itself – our achieved and settled identity in Jesus Christ – is beyond the ability of the believer.

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¹ At the time, my mother’s death was more a relief than anything: she had been slowing dying for over two years, subject to many strokes and unknown numbers of TIA’s. The week spent in Indiana following her death – which included a lot of time with my wife and two daughters – was a much needed respite from my “dark night of the soul,” i.e., my indulgence in narcissistic self-flagellation and relentless introspection.

²My “collapse” emerged (submerged?) on Aug 19; three days before I sank I wrote, of my difficulty in writing at that time, “I do know that something is rumbling deep down but it defies articulation right now.” It didn’t take long to make itself known.