On Being Hollow

When I was a kid, one of my favorite books was E.L. Konigsburg's From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler.  If you've never read it, it's the story of a brother and sister who run away from home, with the unlikely plan of taking up residence in the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  While living in the museum, they become mixed up in a mystery of sorts, involving a particular piece of artwork; in solving it, they encounter an elderly, wealthy art collector, Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, and she discovers their secret.  As they talk with her about their time at the museum, the siblings reveal that one of the rules they've been living by is that they must learn about one new thing every day.  They're surprised, however, to discover that Mrs. Frankweiler vehemently disapproves of this plan.  Here's her explanation:

"I think you should learn, of course, and some days you must learn a great deal.  But you should also have days when you allow what is already in you to swell up inside of you until it touches everything.  And you can feel it inside of you.  If you never take time out to let that happen, then you accumulate facts, and they begin to rattle around inside of you.  You can make noise with them, but never really feel anything with them.  It's hollow."

I've always loved that passage, and I think it's a great reminder for those of us in the community of faith.  It seems that sometimes, as believers, we can get so caught up in learning, learning, learning.  Another Bible study, another quiet time, another devotional--we must always be learning.  But we often fail to take our learning to heart, to let it mature into something that touches the deepest part of who we are, that impacts how we live every day.  And then when we find ourselves in interactions with the rest of the world, all they are able to see in us is all those facts, rattling around.  We're making noise with them, but it's not meaningful to anyone, because we haven't let the information grow inside until it touches everything; it hasn't changed us in the way it was meant to.

If you're beginning to wonder what kind of New Age, anti-church claptrap I'm preaching, let me assure you that the Bible is just as clear on this point as E.L. Konigsburg.  James, in the first chapter of his book, urgently reminds his readers that the Scripture is intended not just for study, but for application.  He explains that when a person hears more and more information, but doesn't put it into practice, it's as though he has looked at himself intently in a mirror, and then walked away, only to have "forgotten what kind of person he was" .  (What an evocative phrase--not forgetting what we look like, he says, but forgetting who we are.)  Be an "effectual doer," he urges, not a "forgetful hearer."

In that case, you may be asking, what does this look like?  In other words, what does an "effectual doer" actually do?  It's an excellent question, and I certainly would never claim to have a monopoly on the answer.  But I will tell you what I see when I ask that question myself.  I see that Jesus says if we love him, we'll obey his commands, and his command is that we love each other.  I see that John says if we claim to love God, but don't love others, our proclaimed love for God is nothing but a lie we tell ourselves.  I see that Jesus says people will be able to identify us as his followers by the way we show love.  I see that Paul says if we have all the knowledge in the world but don't have love, we ourselves are nothing.  I see that there is no amount of Bible study or spiritual knowledge that will compensate for our failure to live out our learning by loving the ones that God loves, in the same way that he loves them.  This means that relationships, service, sacrifice, compassion, are at very least equal in importance to more and more learning.  It means that a cherished hour of talking, laughing, living together with someone is to be valued beyond one extra chapter of a study book completed.

This encourages me to take my time.  To grow into faith at a pace that allows for exploration, examination, reflection.  To think deeply and maybe for a long time about what love for others really means, and what choices and changes I might need to make so that it becomes real in me.  Most importantly, it encourages me to choose wisely in the way I use whatever precious time I have each day.  I could hurry through.  I could mark my spiritual growth by the number of chapters I consume every day.  I could fill my calendar with classes, studies, and seminars.  But I'm not willing to do so at the cost of walking away from that mirror and forgetting who I am.