A Long Obedience

A few years ago, I listened to a book by Eugene Peterson entitled “A Long Obedience in the Same Direction.” Though I knew about it, I had never read it. I’m glad I finally did. Peterson wrote, “One aspect of the world that I have been able to identify as harmful to Christians is the assumption that anything worthwhile can be acquired at once. We assume that if something can be done at all, it can be done quickly and efficiently.”

He went on to say, “It is not difficult in such a world to get a person interested in the message of the gospel; it is terrifically difficult to sustain the interest. Millions of people in our culture make decisions for Christ, but there is a dreadful attrition rate. Many claim to have been born again, but the evidence for mature Christian discipleship is slim. In our kind of culture, anything, even news about God, can be sold if it is packaged freshly; but when it loses its novelty, it goes on the garbage heap. There is a great market for religious experience in our world; there is little enthusiasm for the patient acquisition of virtue, little inclination to sign up for a long apprenticeship in what earlier generations of Christians called holiness.”

I read that, and I was stirred. I was stirred because, sadly, that’s been my experience as a pastor. Over the last forty-one years, I’ve seen countless people show an interest in Jesus — in a crisis, in a pinch, when the chips are down — only to lose interest over time. I’ve watched happily as hundreds, maybe thousands, decided to follow Jesus and been heartbroken as many of them slipped away. I’ve been delighted to see the presence of God flower and produce fruit in a person’s life, and I’ve been horrified, at times, by some of the things I’ve heard self-identified Christians say and watched them do, without shame, without remorse, without a care for others. I’ve been blessed by humble followers of Jesus — pastors working faithfully behind the scenes, people joyously serving God in obscurity — and I’ve been wounded deeply, sometimes savagely by modern Pharisees, the self-appointed watchdogs, the so-called arbiters of truth. I’ve also watched people package and repackage the gospel, watering it down, de-emphasizing all the difficult bits — dying to self, putting others first, laying down your rights and the need to surrender — while promising instant transformation, a quick fix, a cure for what ails you, health and fabulous wealth, and so much more.

So, when Peterson said, “There is a great market for religious experience in our world; there is little enthusiasm for the patient acquisition of virtue, little inclination to sign up for a long apprenticeship in what earlier generations of Christians called holiness,” I realized I was guilty of much the same thing. I have often been influenced by the world, drawn to religious experience, and less interested in the patient acquisition of virtue. I have often wanted God to instantly transform me, to break me, melt me, mold me, and fill me, as the old song goes, or, better yet, fix me.

Even better than that, fix those around me, "Please, Lord!" My life would be a lot easier if He would break, melt, mold, and fill them! This idea of signing up for a long apprenticeship was foreign to me. For years, I came to realize, I wanted something a little less demanding, a non-invasive type of Christianity that made gentle, minor changes to my life while avoiding the upheaval of total transformation. It’s just the last several years that I’ve grown weary with “instant” Christianity, palatable Christianity, packaged Christianity, and have signed up for something more, something truly transformative — a long apprenticeship with Jesus, a journey with Jesus toward holiness. I want to be like him. I would be like Jesus.

Religious Tourism

Now, this is hard for us. It certainly wasn’t easy for me to admit that the ladder I’d been climbing most of my adult life was leaning against the wrong wall. But that one decision has made all the difference. We are an instant culture. We believe anything worthwhile can be acquired at once and when we try Jesus and are not instantly transformed, instantly a better person or instantly the best version of ourselves, if our children continue to rebel, if the marriage that’s been hanging by a thread isn’t saved, if life isn’t instantly better, we can quickly lose interest and move on to whatever’s next. Peterson calls this “religious tourism.” He writes, “Religion in our time has been captured by the tourist mindset. Religion is understood as a visit to an attractive site to be made when we have adequate leisure. For some, it is a weekly jaunt to church; for others, occasional visits to special services. Some, with a bent for religious entertainment and sacred diversion, plan their lives around special events like retreats, rallies, and conferences. We go to see a new personality, to hear a new truth, to get a new experience, and so somehow expand our otherwise humdrum lives. The religious life is defined as the latest and the newest: Zen, faith healing, human potential, parapsychology, successful living…We’ll try anything — until something else comes along.”

We’re often like religious tourists. We only want the high points. We’re always in a hurry. We have, as Gore Vidal wrote, a “passion for the immediate and the casual.” We want to experience whatever is available to us, then move on to whatever’s next. We’re interested in shortcuts, thrills, and chills, not long apprenticeships. We want to fill out the form that gets us instant credit in heaven. Here’s what Peterson concludes. He writes,

“The Christian life cannot mature under such conditions and in such ways.”

To underline the point, he lifts a quotation from the renowned atheist, Friedrich Nietzsche. Though Nietzsche did not believe in God, he did see the value in committing to something for the long haul. He wrote, “The essential thing ‘in heaven and earth’ is…that there should be a long obedience in the same direction; there thereby results, and has always resulted in the long run, something which has made life worth living.”

On that, at least, I think he’s right. It is this long obedience in the same direction, our determination to follow Jesus, which Satan wars against, and the world does so much to discourage. If we’re going to truly follow Jesus, in a culture hostile to the things of Christ, we have to form a kind of resistance. We have to push back against the rising tide of religious tourism and religious entertainment. We have to resist the lure of shortcuts, thrills, and chills in favor of the patient acquisition of virtue, a long apprenticeship in holiness, a long obedience in the same direction.