on holiness

D. and I are both graduates of Asbury College, now called Asbury University, in Wilmore, Kentucky. (everyone who reads this blog knows that, I think.)

In Hughes Auditorium, on Asbury's campus, the words "Holiness Unto the Lord" are inscribed above the pipe organ. I tried to paste a picture here, but I live seven hours away, and I was afraid I was stealing someone else's copyright.

As a college freshman, I really had no idea what this phrase meant. "Holiness Unto the Lord." Hmmm... that sounds great. Inspirational. Intimidating. Yes.

I had the chance, as all Asbury students do, to take a class on Christian Theology. Mine was with Dr. Miller. He's the best, in my opinion. Our textbook for this class was entitled Grace, Faith & Holiness: A Wesleyan Systematic Theology.  What I remember from that class is that a lot of other people fell asleep while I mostly stayed awake because (a) I loved Dr. Miller's lectures (b) I am a dork, and (c) I drank a diet coke every day right before the class. The other thing I remember is that we talked about the concept of holiness, and that I began to understand why the words "Holiness Unto the Lord" were inscribed in such a prominent place in Hughes. My friends whose parents and grandparents went to Asbury probably already knew or had at least some kind of understanding, but this was new to me.

John Wesley, theologian, founder of Methodism, and most importantly, follower of Jesus, talked a lot about holiness. He said that all followers of Christ are called to live holy lives. Here is a quotation from one of his sermons:

And being taught of Him who was meek as well as lowly in heart, we shall then be enabled to "walk with all meekness;" being taught of Him who teacheth as never man taught, to be meek as well as lowly in heart. This implies not only a power over anger, but over all violent and turbulent passions. It implies the having all our passions in due proportion; none of them either too strong or too weak; but all duly balanced with each other; all subordinate to reason; and reason directed by the Spirit of God. (1872) 


I remember struggling with this idea as a college student. I am called to be holy, but this feels impossible. Unreachable. I cannot do this, so maybe I should just not go to chapel during Holiness Conference and take a nap. But I remember that one day during Dr. Miller's class on Christian theology we talked about how being holy doesn't meant that one doesn't sin. It means that a person responds with grief when he or she sins and asks for forgiveness. It means that this person is ready and willing to reconcile with the one he or she sinned against. Okay. Maybe I can do that. 


These days, this teaching means a lot to me. When I look back at that quotation and see that Wesley mentions a "power over anger" and "having all our passions in due proportion," I am convicted. A certain three-year-old has the ability to make me very, very angry. Sometimes I do not speak to him in love. Sometimes I yell. Sometimes I lose my temper. A certain toddler is getting to the age where he begins to test his mother and push her buttons. He refuses to lie still for a diaper changing resulting in poop. Everywhere. This frustrates me. Exhaustion only serves to multiply these feelings. 


Tonight, at bedtime, I apologized to both of my children for the times today when I responded in anger. Ezra can't talk much, but he hugged me close. Isaiah said, "Thanks, mom. I love you." Then he gave me a kiss on the cheek. 


I am so grateful for this teaching about the importance of reconciliation that stuck with me from those long lectures on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. I pray that I can live a holy life, even if that means that I am willing to apologize when I wrong the ones I love.