I’ve given much thought lately to the spiritual life and what success is. Because life has been far from easy. In the spiritual avenue of life and in the flesh and bone, rubber meets the road it has been a transition of things, a struggle of things. What would the well rooted and victorious spiritual life be like? The western church concept of faithful growth is taught to us as being the overcomer, the one who comes out victorious and strong with a fine and powerful testimony of how we’ve been brought through the fire to a place of triumph. We come up with witty and smart acronyms for steps to this overcoming life and then pen books about it and tour the circuits giving our inspiring stories to thunderous applause and admiring fans.

But in the quiet places of thought I wonder, I don’t know that this is the reality of what a deeply rooted spiritual life is. These may be fine and good for the time but in the long run I don’t see them as lasting or transformative. When we think on spiritual ken of the faith, we often think of greats such as Moses, Daniel or Paul. Yet we forget the humble folk like Joseph, the human father of Jesus. There’s not much written about him. He’s oftentimes a secondary thought at best in the grand scheme of all things biblical.

Joseph had a ministry, a rich and satisfying care, which was raising the young Jesus. I’d imagine this ministry came at a great personal cost to his person. Jewish culture and unwed pregnant girls did not go hand in hand and there was a heavy stigma to be paid by the young couple. When we hear tales of that family we like to imagine that after the flight home from Egypt they settled into day to day life mixing well with their community.

But knowing the religious spirit of men it would be right to assume that it wasn’t as easy for them to settle into life with a baby born out of wedlock. The Jewish culture leaned heavily on tradition and ceremony and an unwed mother with a stepfather brought on scrutiny and perhaps some division among polite but religious society. Maybe at times it involved being ostracized. Such a marvelous call on Joseph’s life but it came at a cost. Both he and Mary knew the truth of the miracle that they bore and loved, but this was not seen nor understood by their community. And despite such a great call it must have been difficult being misunderstood and derided. Living with the blemish day in and day out must have grown weary on them. But they were doing exactly what they had been chosen for.

Christ never made promises of granting us the easy life. In fact, He told us in this life we would have trouble. John 16:33 But He calls us to the hard things. And the hard things are never glorious or admirable. Anything of any great value always comes at great personal cost. But He has assured us His peace through the difficult things. The hard things, the soul crushing and lonely things are inclined to the man or woman whose heart is completely given to Him. Who no matter what, desires to do His will. GK Chesterton and Brennan Manning wrote of the Furious love of God and CS Lewis wrote of the danger of God. Perhaps these two concepts dovetail into one another. His furious love and desire render Him unsafe because He presses us and assaults our notions of safety for our greater good and that of the world. And oftentimes it comes at considerable personal expense to us. Something the thin lipped and blithe and prosperous media preachers are want to praise.

Even so, AW Tozer wrote that “It is doubtful whether God can bless a man greatly until he has hurt him deeply." He rises up the external and internal storms of conflict within us and out of us to develop a deeper work in our character. And Thornton Wilder in his play, The Angel That Troubled the Waters, he wrote of the doctor who only through his melancholic pain was able to heal others trapped in the same bondage. It was because of this hard thing that he could reach the hurting, and his pain gave him avenue into wounded hearts like his. So, the hard things are required of those He asks something great of. And Joseph may have asked himself, Why me?

And like Joseph I have asked myself the same at times. We talk of great feats but how much are we willing to pay the price to do such things? The hard things are not done in the limelight and aren’t done in the fanfare. They are often done in the valley and in the dark, lonely places where we ask ourselves if what we are doing really matters. If the risk of being ostracized and laying one’s soul threadbare before the world is worth it.

The difficult and hard things are part of our experience in this world. I’ve come to believe that those hard things which envelope us and drive into our bark like Paul’s thorn in the flesh are given to those who are truly open to a greater responsibility, a greater call. There is a wider and deeper purpose to be seen in all this even when we wish the pain did not accompany it. Even so, in the pain we can have peace, though the process is rough and treacherous and unforgiving. His peace and resilience strengthen weary legs and straightens bent and burdened hopes.

There is sacrifice in the pain and in being misunderstood. There is peace in the silence and in the lonely road. This place is not our home and it is merely a depot stop onto a truer life. It is here where we develop our mettle and grow and expand dense spiritual muscle and bone for our future selves. There is always pain and sacrifice and peace in the ministerial journey. For it serves a greater and deeper purpose beyond anything we can lay claim to now in this age. And as in a dark night of the soul my heart whispers, “Even so, I will still follow you.”