When someone moves beyond hunger to actual malnutrition, certain predictable symptoms begin to appear. They include fatigue and low energy, poor immune function, slowed reaction times and trouble paying attention, poor growth, muscle weakness and osteoporosis (fragile bones).
Feeding our bodies to stay healthy is obvious. The need to feed our spirits or souls is less so. Yet the consequences of malnourished spirits are every bit as real as not feeding our bodies:
- Fatigue and low energy to serve God or others—especially when it may inconvenience me in some way.
- A poor spiritual immune system to fight off infections of worldly culture—so that we take all our cues and make our decisions without even stopping to think about what Jesus might want us to do.
- Slowed reaction times and trouble paying attention to prodding’s of the Spirit—until eventually we become oblivious to those God-sightings that seem to happen to others but never happen to us.
- Poor growth, weakness and especially fragility to experiencing the strength, passion, and inner peace that preachers keep saying is the birthright of every disciple of Jesus Christ.
This season of Lent is a time to slow down and ponder. How do we see these spiritually malnourished symptoms in ourselves?
Not by Bread Alone
Doubt is the #1 tool in Satan’s toolbox. Sowing seeds of doubt was the classic temptation to Adam and Eve in the Garden regarding eating the forbidden fruit—“Has God said…?”
And so the Devil tries sows doubt within Jesus: “If you’re really God’s Son, you need some dramatic experience to prove it to yourself! So take these stones and turn them into bread!”
Jesus responds: “It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’” (Matt. 4:4)
In his commentary on Matthew, biblical scholar Dale Bruner concludes:
“Jesus begins by saying, “It is written.”
Jesus was a man of Scripture. The temptations intend to drill this important truth into the church’s mind.
Ministry is Christian in the measure that it is ruled by Scripture.”
I find it interesting that Jesus says, “man does not live by bread alone.” Jesus is not super-spiritual. Nor is he disconnected from real life, as critics of Christianity often claim. Jesus knows that we need material things to live. He never denies this.
But, Jesus maintains, we cannot live by bread alone. When human beings simply accumulate bread, the results are sad and inevitable—their spirits or souls shrivel. You have probably seen that happen to someone you know: materially fat and self-sufficient—spiritually malnourished and dying.
Human beings have a hunger deeper than bread. This hunger is satisfied by the words that come pouring out of the mouth of God. That’s what the Greek word “comes from” literally describes—not dribbles and drabs, but pouring out in ongoing, constant conversation.
Jesus had feasted on God’s word; he had obviously committed large sections of the Old Testament to memory. If that is how HE lived—immersing himself in Scripture—why should we seek a different path?
But now let me ask a practical question. We know about physical bread. How do we digest the word of God?
Good advice to a Barber
The Protestant Reformation leader Martin Luther wrote a little pamphlet for his barber (of all people) about digesting the word of God. Luther suggests approaching any passage of scripture in four ways:
- 1st—Instruction. What is there here for me to learn? In the passage for today, we might say that the instruction is how much scripture was a part of Jesus’ life…or how important standing on the promises of scripture is in answering the tempting doubts that plague us.
- 2nd—Thanksgiving. What in this passage shows me what God has done for which I am thankful? In this passage, for example, maybe it’s the example of Jesus in how he resisted temptation.
- 3rd—Confession. What does this passage prompt me to confess to God? For example, I might confess how I have not put up much of a fight against temptation in the past, or how I have neglected the scriptures.
- 4th—Prayer. Finally, I take whatever my responses have been to the first three and pray them back to the Lord—in confession, in thanksgiving, and in my desire to follow the instruction offered.
What Martin Luther describes to his barber is one of many forms of meditating on scripture.
While eastern forms of meditation intend to empty the mind, Christian meditation intends to focus the mind. It’s like a slow, leisurely walk through a forest. I stop often to look closely at a tree or carefully examine a plant, alive in the moment to my surroundings.
Many of us have undoubtedly practiced such meditation without even realizing it. We’ve read something in the Bible and thought, “I wonder what that means? How does this apply to my life?”
Then we started looking at it from different angles, asking ourselves “what if” questions, seeing new things we’d never thought of before. Meditating on scripture isn’t esoteric or only for monasteries. Simply take time to chew slowly on the words of scripture. Don’t hurry through them.
Listen to some words from Psalm 19:
The law of the Lord is perfect,
reviving the soul;
the decrees of the Lord are sure,
making wise the simple;
the precepts of the Lord are right,
rejoicing the heart;
the commandment of the Lord is clear,
enlightening the eyes; the fear of the Lord is pure,
enduring forever;
the ordinances of the Lord are true
and righteous altogether.
More to be desired are they than gold,
even much fine gold;
sweeter also than honey,
and drippings of the honeycomb.
The psalms are full of sentiments like these. These authors knew about the words of God in ways that we in the rush of modern life tend to neglect or forget. At least, I know that I do.
Want to start today? In these fearful and perilous times, I suggest your heart will be greatly comforted by meditating on Psalm 91. Practice Luther’s advice to his barber.
