Intermission: Wait, what are the spiritual disciplines again?

The word "discipline" can make a person's shoulders tighten. For some of us it sounds like a report card. Comer's intermission tries to clear that up, and 1 Timothy 4:7-8 gives it a good starting point.

Paul tells Timothy, "Rather train yourself for godliness." Training is an athlete's word. Nobody trains hoping to earn a place in the family. They train because they want something to become possible that isn't possible yet. Paul then adds, "while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come." The goal isn't a better résumé. It's godliness, a life that looks more like God's, with a promise that reaches into this life, not just the next.

Comer begins by calling the gospels biographies. Their small, practical details, like where Jesus went early in the morning, or what he did before big decisions, show how he actually lived. We tend to read for the teaching and skip over the habits. The book says they're there on purpose. He then borrows a definition from Dallas Willard: spiritual disciplines are activities of mind and body that we take up to bring our whole person into cooperation with God's order and with a power beyond our own.

That last phrase is key. The power is not ours. A discipline is not a way to generate holiness. It's a way to put yourself where God's work can reach you, like setting up a sail rather than rowing the boat. Titus 2:11-12 says the grace of God has appeared and is itself training us to turn from ungodliness. Grace isn't the opposite of training. Grace is the one doing the training.

Comer also notices something about how Jesus leads. He models practices and then says, in effect, follow me. He doesn't force a method onto people. His leadership is example and invitation, not coercion. That should change the tone in which we approach disciplines. If you treat a practice as a whip, you're borrowing a style Jesus never used.

So how do you hold a discipline well? Hold it loosely and honestly. If you miss a morning of prayer, the practice has not failed and God hasn't withdrawn. You return, the way a trainee returns to the gym. If you're prone to scrupulosity, where every missed habit feels like a moral failure, please talk with a pastor, counselor, or trusted friend about it. Practices are meant to carry grace, not feed dread.

Today, look at a practice you've avoided. Ask not "Am I good enough at this?" but "Is this a place where Jesus might meet me?"