Reckless Generosity

What happened to his drink, by the way?

I bet you can remember some of the times in your life when you've spilled something; especially if it was something valuable. I can remember where I've been sitting at certain restaurants when I've heard a huge crash caused by a server dropping a tray of food. I can still picture the bits of plates, meats, and veggies go flying across the floor, bouncing off of my shoe. On some such occasions, I can remember customers erupting in sarcastic applause, to add insult to injury.  

A few of my favorite spilling mental images come from infomercials. People trying to open a cabinet, sit on a recliner, or pour a beverage are suddenly pelted by whatever they're handling in ridiculous quantities that can only have been stacked and spring loaded. The advertisers seem to really understand our discomfort with spills. Unless you didn't grow up being taught the "three second rule"--it's nearly Scriptural, isn't it?--once something has been spilled out on the floor, it has lost all value and is functionally "unclean". It is only a mess to be cleared. Spilling makes us uncomfortable because it is needlessly wasteful.

Mark 14 tells the story of a woman who spilled something on purpose. And it wasn't a glass of sweet tea or even a plateful of prime rib. It was an alabaster jar full of expensive perfume; the kind that would have cost as much as a year's income by the disciples' estimation. It would be like taking the money you would need to pay cash for a new car, and using it as kindling to light the fire in your grill, as they saw it. As the woman anointed Jesus with this perfume as a way to honor him, the disciples had only sharp words for her in response. "Why this waste of good perfume?!" Of all the possible ways to use that much money, each of them could have produced a list of things to do with it, not the least of which was helping the poor.

Jesus teaches us a different way of looking at money. To begin with, Christians don't get overly attached to our money or our material possessions, because we believe they belong first to God, and that God is more than capable of giving back to us far more than what we share. For some reason, God insisted that in Israel's calendar, there would be festivals and feasts and times of celebrating the harvest, rather than putting all of the harvest into savings. This must have been partly because of a trust that God would later provide another harvest. Memories made by celebrating God's goodness are not a waste, as God sees them.

Our hope is not in our bank account, nor should be our greatest treasures, because the location of our treasure will determine the deepest cares of our hearts, according to Jesus. Jesus valued the great cost of this gesture the woman made towards him, and when it comes to honoring God, there's something to be said for trying to do things for God that are beautiful, and that mean something to us. On one occasion in 2 Samuel 24, a man named Araunah offered to give David a threshing floor and some oxen so that David could offer a sacrifice to God. David's response? Absolutely not.

"No, I insist on paying you for it. I will not sacrifice to the Lord my God burnt offerings that cost me nothing."

David's view? Worship isn't worship if it doesn't cost me anything. While there is no precedent to be needlessly wasteful in how we use our possessions, there is certainly precedent to do things that are beautiful, and even attention grabbing to honor God. It is appropriate that some of the world's greatest paintings, artful compositions, and charitable organizations exist because of people's desire to do something beautiful for God. Something worth remembering. Sometimes a few acts of random kindness and reckless generosity are just the things we need to remind ourselves that our trust is in God's provisions, and not in our possessions.

Review of From Cloisters to Cubicles: Spiritual Disciplines for the Not-So-Monastic Life by David Srygley

My friend David Srygley has a new book out on spiritual disciplines. As one committed to the importance of these practices, I was excited to read it, and I'd like to review it here.

Srygley, David. From Cloisters to Cubicles: Spiritual Disciplines for the No-So-Monastic Life. Bloomington, Indiana: Westbow Press, 2014. 161 pages.



Dr. David Srygley is the pulpit minister for the Arlington Heights Church of Christ in Corpus Christi, Texas. His book, From Cloisters to Cubicles (hereafter CtoC) developed as a result of his doctoral research for his Doctor of Educational Ministry at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. Some doctoral dissertations, when developed into books, can be too technical for an average reader to be able to read with much benefit. I was pleased that Srygley avoided this pitfall. He has included two appendices at the end of the book that contain more of the theological and pedagogical paradigms he is trying to underscore in his project. So for leaders and thinkers, the brainier stuff is still there, but he made a good decision by putting these resources in the back, rather than making them the introduction.

CtoC contains a helpful introduction to the study, and is followed by thirteen chapters that describe different spiritual disciplines. With each chapter, his goal is to bring a practice from merely an activity in isolation--as if within a monastic cloister--to the regular, daily activities of the person implementing the practice--more like a workplace cubicle. The disciplines he covers are: prayer, study, meditation, fasting, simplicity, solitude and silence, submission, service, confession, worship, guidance, and celebration.

What makes Srygley's approach unique is that he takes a decidedly missional slant on the role and purpose of the spiritual disciplines. He states in his first chapter, "Spiritual disciplines are not for escaping the world; they are for engaging it!" (emphasis his.) I was pleased that Srygley never steps outside of this framework from chapter to chapter, consistently urging the practice of the disciplines in ways that can be integrated into one's daily routines, balancing internal and external focuses.

Srygley's material draws from a series of classes he presented at Arlington Heights as part of his research, and is written in a way that is intended to be used by the average church member. All chapters end with both discussion questions and journaling suggestions, which is an interesting way to integrate the ideas. Srygley acknowledges his indebtedness to Foster and Willard in particular for the "toolbox" and "textbook" on spiritual disciplines from which he draws. He engages their ideas, but CtoC is not merely a regurgitation of what Foster, Willard, and others have already done. Srygley makes a valuable contribution by encouraging a holistic use of the disciplines that, while interested in helping Christians connect with the divine, does not lose sight of our engagement with the world around us.

The book has few shortcomings, but there are a couple of areas I would humbly suggest. The chapters are all well-written, but fairly brief, and some leave the reader wishing for a bit more. Having said that, because his goal is to engage people who are new to the disciplines, it was important to keep things simple and digestible, even if a bit too brief at points. The book will make a fine starting point, but someone wanting to go further will need to continue seeking more resources. Also, one small point on style: Srygley is an enthusiastic public presenter. Sometimes for energetic speakers, in their effort to write enthusiastically they overuse exclamation points, which I felt occurred a few times. (My own tendency to do this makes me aware of it.) Happily, neither of these things is significant enough to diminish the book's usefulness.

In the future, I would like to see Srygley share more about his experiences in trying to help his congregation implement these practices. He has a passion for the importance of living an intentionally Christ-centered life, with a heart both for bringing the lost into the fold, and helping Christians to mature. I'm excited about what he's already done, and I believe he will continue contributing to this valuable conversation.

In summary, From Cloisters to Cubicles is a great first step for someone who (1) is completely new to spiritual disciplines and wants to have them explained in simple terms, (2) has some working knowledge of the disciplines and is looking for ways to integrate spiritual disciplines into daily routines, or (3) is looking for material to use about spiritual disciplines in a church class setting. I'm grateful to David both for his friendship, and for the good resource he has created in writing this book.