I’ve been reading some Jean Vanier lately for some work I am doing on theology and disability, and I’ve come across what appears to be an idea central to his thought – that at our core, as fallen humans, is a wound of loneliness. Most of what we do is develop strategies to protect this wound, and most of our relational decisions stem from how we respond to others in the midst of our woundedness. The disabled, for Vanier, are special because they tap into our wound in a way others do not. The disabled, and I’m thinking mostly mentally disabled here, do not pick up on the kinds of strategies we usually employ in conversations, nor are they impressed with the kind of things that impress the world. Instead, they want someone to be with them, to love them, and not leave them. The disabled only want what we do, and yet they refuse to settled for what we do (i.e. shallow conversations, approval, etc.).

This is the third reflection in this blog series on the spirituality of students at Christian colleges. Crises and trials are common. Over half the sample reported experiencing a crisis in the past year. When asked to describe their crises in an open-ended format, the most frequently reported crises included loss of relationship, relationship stresses, and health concerns. We also asked students to describe their most difficult spiritual struggles, and the top three they reported were relational conflict, busyness,and lust/sex/pornography.

These open-ended responses all suggest that emerging adulthood is a time of relational difficulties and this affects every aspect of students’ spirituality. Relational loss, stress, and conflict is the norm for college students, which stems from their identity exploration and instability that is an intrinsic part of this stage of life.

Let me be clear about doctrine. I believe that the Bible is the written Word of God, inerrant, inspired by the Holy Spirit. I know how important it is for Christian formation. I know that in these pages, it’s possible to have a life-changing encounter with God through the Holy Spirit.

I just have a really hard time reading it.

Part of the problem may be the weight of impossible expectations.

This is an introduction to a six-part blog series based on an article I wrote for the Biola Magazine (Fall, 2010) summarizing five years of research on the spirituality of students at Christian colleges.  In each of the next five blogs I will consider and expand on one of five reflections synthesized from the data.  In this blog, I provide a brief overview of the research projects and the theoretical model driving my research program on spiritual transformation.

One of the most important goals of Christian colleges and universities is to help students grow spiritually and develop their character. Likewise, one of the biggest challenges Christian universities (like Biola where I teach) face is evaluating how we are doing in this area. In fact, secular accrediting agencies have begun asking such schools for evidence that they are assessing and improving student spiritual development, since it is a core part of our mission.

Think of the word “artist” and several images come to mind.  A goateed man with a beret and a paint brush.  A red-mouthed diva in a glittering gown.  An aging rock star with a rider that includes green M&M’s and Evian bottled water.  The word implies a lot of things.  Talent, excellence, and a level of achievement reserved for people with record contracts or whose work hangs in museums.  But also weirdness, eccentricity, capriciousness, and ego.

The word “artist” seems to be an intimidating word for many, and I find a lot of people reluctant to apply it to themselves.  In short, the word carries a lot of baggage.

I’ve been speaking to a number of people lately who are trying on the word, “artist.”  In various venues, I’ve been talking to people who are exploring what it is to be made in the image of God, the Master Artist who painted the stars, sculpted the planets, formed our beings.  And if it is true that we were made to be creative—to build and explore and express and make art—how does that affect the way we see ourselves?  Can we use the word “artist” to describe the human condition?  Can you use the word to describe you?

Dr Moreland explained that because of the Fall, we are in a state of separation (from God, from others, and from ourselves) and thus we experience a fundamental loneliness. We look for ways to overcome this loneliness, often with strategies that are sinful. Our corresponding fundamental need is attachment, and God’s deepest way of relating to us is through attachment. Dr Moreland then posed a question: “What are our attachment strategies that are not healthy, that don’t help us become more like Jesus?”

Ouch.

I've been thinking about going deep lately. Something clicked in me after meeting with Jim Belcher, former pastor of Redeemer Prebyterian Church in Orange County and the author of Deep Church. Jim is leaving the church he planted almost ten years ago to move his family to England and work on a second book, which will most likely have the word "deep" in it. Jim seems to have hit a nerve with the idea of going deep, whether it's a church or an individual.

We didn't get deep into the subject, mainly because Jim is moving in a few weeks and every minute in his life counts right now, and he couldn't spend any more time with me than it took to consume a $4 Dennys value breakfast. But our conversation was enough to get me thinking: