Compartment Rich, Discernment Poor

Note: This article was originally published at SI on November 8, 2006.
“Mom, are you sure this is a Bible thing, or is it just an old thing?” As I sat with my son downloading previews of music he was asking me to evaluate, I suddenly yearned for the days when the only song in his musical repertoire that even faintly raised my eyebrow was one that involved a rather raucous garden escape by Peter Rabbit. Everyone needs an inquisitive, status quo-examining teenager in his home. Teens are so adept at poking around in our neatly arranged boxes of rejection and asking those challenging questions about the items that interest them. It can be quite irritating at times, and I confess the inconvenience of it all has far too often driven me to seal the container shut and shoo away the grubby little paws that are daring to rummage through items I have proudly rejected for half a century.

I am just lazy enough to engage in some hefty, white-knuckled clinging to the convenience that boxes and labels offer. I thrive on organization, but since I’m not naturally neat enough to achieve it on my own, I tend to rely heavily on baskets and bins. I possess a “contained chaos” kind of style. As long as things look neat and orderly, my conscience usually finds soothing just enough to enjoy a few good patronizing pats on the back from that annoyingly virtuous woman of my dreams.

I find that I especially love containers that house those “gray matters” that, when left unconfined, require the expenditure of a painful amount of mental and spiritual exercise in discerning their individual worth. It’s much easier to simply clump the items together and then tuck them in a box and label it. Actually, the easiest thing to do is to just utilize those pre-labeled boxes. I’ve taken advantage of that benefit more than I care to admit. Not only is this nifty compartmentalization convenient, but also it looks incredibly neat when the boxes are neatly arranged on the shelf. G-rated movies? ACCEPT. R-rated moves? REJECT. Hymns? ACCEPT. Contemporary worship songs? REJECT. Televisions? ACCEPT. Movie Theaters? REJECT.

By definition, the very nature of discernment entails “mental separation.” Biblical discernment requires mentally separating that which is good from that which is evil. It requires mentally separating that which is profitable from that which is lawful, and separating that which feeds the spirit from that which feeds the flesh. It requires mentally separating that which is wise from that which is foolish, and separating that which is controlled from that which controls. Biblical discernment requires mental sobriety, and it is not convenient. It requires spiritual muscle that has been toned not only through the exercise of personal study of God’s Word but also through the exercise of personal application of the Word to every aspect of life.

Knowing my own lazy tendencies and love for convenience, should I be baffled that we are observing such an unhealthy lack of biblical discernment? Should it be surprising to me that spiritual muscles are dangerously flabby and biblical thinking disappointingly mushy? Could it be that the convenience of compartmentalization has been taught so well that we are now observing a generation of young people who, after probing through boxes of rejection and pulling out some good stuff, have simply chosen to switch labels and slap “ACCEPT” on the entire contents? Should we expect spiritual muscles to be toned if there has never been personal instruction given in the rigorous exercise that discernment demands? Should we expect minds to be spiritually sharpened if there has never been personal instruction in how to seek wisdom by digging in the Word and asking the probing questions that biblical discernment requires? And if instruction has been given, but there has been no permission granted or opportunity given to engage in the actual exercise, should the poverty of discernment be surprising?

Knowing inconvenience and discomfort are vital parts of any strengthening regime, I have to ask myself how guilty I have been of allowing efficiency and aesthetic comfort to serve as cheap substitutes for the development of discernment. Substitutes are not meant for permanency and rarely age well; so if I find I have been using them, wisdom would dictate that I carefully take inventory of the fallout. As I take that inventory, I would also be wise to consider more than just the sea of shipwrecked lives and world-loving believers, for the right provocations are revealing alarmingly anemic levels of biblical discernment even in those who keep their compartments quite neat and orderly.

Okay. I’ve taken inventory. It’s not pretty.

Believing the home provides the most fertile soil for growth, I find myself continually seeking wisdom as to how I can best facilitate the strengthening of biblical discernment in my children. The irony of the search is that it inevitably leads me back to my own heart. I am humbled when I think of the work the Lord has been lovingly and patiently accomplishing in my life in revealing those squeaky areas that have been calling for the oil of His grace.

God has been painfully unmasking my pride, revealing to me how much my “contained chaos” style has allowed me to aesthetically entertain unattractive thoughts of self-righteousness and self-confidence. Because a closet of neatly organized and culturally acceptable containers has the power to elicit rave reviews that can feed a sense of righteousness, it also carries great power to foster a damaging confidence that the arrangement is a requirement for all “mature and spiritually minded” people. I know what it means to stand oblivious of my own distorted perspective, boldly declaring with a stomp of the foot that “yes indeed, those railroad tracks do meet in the distance!” I’ve arrogantly made those kinds of declarations to people who have been down the road and who know they don’t, but my pride had prevented me from genuinely listening.

The great benefit of embracing the inconvenience of biblical discernment rather than the convenience of compartments is that it drives an utter dependence on God and His Word. It requires ceaseless prayer and consuming study, for the only assumption it makes is that every item needs to be scanned across the eye of Scripture and God’s understanding. I have been convicted about how poorly I have helped my children with this process because of my own assumptions about living. I desperately want them to learn to lean on the Lord’s understanding and not on their own, but how often have they observed me leaning on mine?

About a year ago, I was rebuked as I sat listening to a God-focused mother share the agonizing process of discernment that she and her husband were working through with their daughter in deciphering the Lord’s will for her education. Her comment about not wanting ever to make assumptions about God made an impression on me. It was the same kind of impression that was made recently when a very wise father sat in our home, detailing the same inconvenient process that he and his family were working through. As I listened to his assessments and probing questions, I was overwhelmed with the fact that this man cared about nothing more than making certain he was remaining accountable to a holy God. I wonder if my own children have ever witnessed my engaging in the kind of rigorous exercise of discernment that would overwhelm them with this fact? Or have I simply overwhelmed them with the rigor of my dogged determination to keep my boxes of assumption orderly arranged and strictly labeled?

I have discovered that, with this generation particularly, ministering to young people provides one of the best cures for the prideful arrangement of tightly ordered closets. Being the reactionary humans that we are, the pendulum has swung, and they are no longer motivated by aesthetics. Of course, in responding to this swing, it is important that we remember that no generation has ever had a corner on not being seduced by cheap substitutes for grace-based living. Though one generation find themselves ensnared by fleshly and selfish desires manifest through legalism, the next find themselves ensnared by fleshly and selfish desires manifest through license.

Genuine biblical discernment is the defining difference that will keep us from riding wildly from one cheap substitute to the next; and it can be learned only as we dwell at the foot of the cross, that satisfying place of transforming grace where all our puny offerings and anemic acts of righteousness are completely overshadowed by our Savior.

As I minister to young people, I need the Savior’s love, not my own manufactured attempts at offering it, if I am going to genuinely listen. I need the humility of Christ, not my own feeble attempts at securing it, if I am going to walk down the road and examine the view from their perspective. And most importantly, I need God’s wisdom, not my own assumptions of righteousness, if I am going to speak the Word wisely without mudding it with opinion and cliché’s. While on the path of ministering to young people, if they lead me to a place where the railroad tracks don’t meet as I have always declared them to meet, I need to apologize for insisting otherwise. At the same time, I must warn them about the dangers of assuming territory is profitable, and I must be willing to work through the exercise of biblical discernment with them. And as we walk through the process, my goal can’t be to get them to discern matters my way, but to offer them the thinking skills that will enable them to discern matters God’s way.

“Mom, are you sure this is a Bible thing, or is it just an old thing?” Parenting my beloved 16-year old son is very similar to ministering to college students, and I sure am thankful for the practical experience I’m getting. There is one huge difference, though. When my son comes to the conclusion that one of my items of rejection is an “old thing,” I can simply exercise my maternal rights and transform it into a “Bible thing” with just a word. Oh, the power of motherhood! I am clinging to it and never letting go!

Holly Stratton, mother of two, is wife of Dr. Dick Stratton, president of Clearwater Christian College (Clearwater, FL). She earned a bachelor’s degree in Home Economics Education from Bob Jones University (BJU) and a master’s degree in Child and Family Development from the University of Georgia. She taught family and personal management courses at BJU for 18 years as well as a Christian womanhood series for the Homesat network. Besides teaching at Clearwater Christian College, Holly is a frequent speaker at ladies’ retreats.