‘So then, brothers, stand firm and hold to the traditions that you were taught by us, either by our spoken word or by our letter.’
2 Thessalonians 2:15
Something happens in a child, usually somewhere between the ages of 18 months and 2 years old, where they make a great realisation.
I don’t have to do what my parents want me to do.
There were times when I even saw this idea happen in our own kids. Like there was a moment of revelation that suddenly sparkled in their eyes—as in that very moment of asking them to pick up their socks or come to the table or eat their peas, their minds would alight on this extraordinary possibility: I don’t want to. What if I say no?
They call it the terrible twos. And the resultant stereotypes of tantrums and exasperated parents is basically comes down to this battle of wills, between the tiny figure of the defiant two-year-old, and the previously unchallenged power base of the parent.
It can be tough work.
But there were also these moments, that I had with my kids, somewhere in the midst of these face-offs, where I took caught a glimpse of it from a different angle—a stepped-back view of what I was dealing with.
On the one hand was me: a six foot plus grown man, holding all the power. The power to punish or reward, to take away snacks or TV time, or to buy them an ice cream. Vastly bigger, stronger, with more resources and knowledge and all of it. And on the other hand, the tiny figure of the curly haired two-year-old, standing in the face of this giant of a figure—like David before Goliath, or Maximus Decimus Meridius before all the powers of Rome1—looking him in the eye, and standing defiant. In those moments, I couldn’t help (amidst all the maddening aggravation of it) feeling just a little bit proud of them.
Paul is writing to the Thessalonians about how to live in the midst of a crumbling age. He’s telling them to keep their hope clear, and to not conform to the anxieties or values of the world around us, because our Lord is imminently coming. He’s setting them up for a new vision of being in the twilight days of history, where the light of heavenly life shines in a dark and desperate world as a foretaste of all the glory that is soon coming.
And today, he wraps this up in a single word:
Stand.
Expanded: Stand firm. Hold to the traditions.
Like a two-year-old who doesn’t want to eat their peas, hold your ground. Keep your mouth tightly closed. Defy the Emperor and square up to the giant.
There’s a myth of our culture that suggests to us that wisdom is found only in novelty. The passing fads of our lives are a good witness to this.
And yet, in the Way of Jesus, the most extraordinary strength is so often found through simple consistency. Keeping going. Standing firm.
In a world that is endlessly changing its mind, stand firm in consistent truth.
In a world that would continually draw you to busyness and self-reliance, stand firm in consistent prayer.
In a world that would drag you into the compulsive excesses of the workaholic, stand firm in consistent rest.
In a world that would isolate you from authentic and true community, stand firm in consistent presence with your community.
There is a certain holy stubbornness that sustains the disciple of Jesus amidst an age of clamour and noise. It is an ability to keep our eyes on the goal, to not be dragged about by passing ideologies and whims and distractions. Like a two-year-old child, defying the powers, and recalling our sure goal and essential ability to live with defiant consistency,
And stand.
Reflect:
Is there something that was essential to me in an earlier stage in faith that I’ve since lost hold of?
Why did I lose it?
How might I take hold of this simple truth or practice again today?
Pray:
Father,
In the peace of this moment,
I return my gaze.
I return my gaze to to unshaken steadfastness
Of you.
For here is my stability, and,
When my gaze is here,
I can stand.
And so, Father,
I lay down in this moment
The anxieties that I feel:
I ask you to calm them;
I lay down in this moment
The habits that distract:
I ask you to weaken them;
I lay down in this moment
The ideas that confuse:
I ask you to realign them,
That in this age, and in this moment,
I may stand with untouchable peace and glorious defiance—
A lived statement of a coming age and a living hope;
Abundantly secure
In the gaze of my Father.
In Jesus’ Name
Amen
Old Testament:
For those also reading the Old Testament this year, your additional readings are here:
2 Kings 11-13 | Psalm 73:18-28
In case you’ve not seen it, in the movie Gladiator.