We adults must appear strange to children. We’ve got fully-developed bodies and capable minds to master many tasks. We drive cars, buy and sell real estate, vote, change careers, get married, stay up late, etc. Children can’t wait to get old enough to do all these things.
But there are other sides to adult behavior that seem much closer to childishness than maturity. Go to a Little League baseball game and try to figure out who the game is really for. Watch two grown men on the freeway weave back and forth trying to outwit each other in revenge tactics. Listen to reasons divorcing people list as grounds for dissolving a marriage.
I imagine there are times when our children could shout to us: “Why don’t you just grow up!” There are times when we look in the mirror and say that very thing to ourselves.
One of the central messages of the Bible is this complexity: We humans share individual uniqueness and unquestionable similarities. I must remember that there is only one me; I must also remember that I’m not so unique that I don’t share the essence of humanity. Finding a healthy balance between these two brings us directly to God. God as Creator. Sustainer. Reconciler. Savior. Nurturer. Judge. God in all things – spiritual and temporal.
As the reinstated Peter heard Jesus predict the future events of Peter’s life, he quickly pointed to John and asked, “Lord, what about him?” Jesus’ terse reply: “What is that to you? You must follow Me” (John 21:22). A modern paraphrase might be, “Paddle your own canoe – let John and me worry about his role.”
Often we adults spend great amounts of energy focusing on other people’s business. We can easily delineate the blame that another person has in our own failures. It’s hoped that by saying “what about him or them,” the spotlight will shine elsewhere.
Maturity stops spending so much wasted time on laying blame. Maturity says, “I blew it.” Maturity lessens bragging and increases honest vulnerability. Maturity acknowledges that conversation and regeneration are daily processes, not a once-for-all step. Maturity doesn’t demand someone else do for me what I should be doing myself. Maturity avoids the extreme of self-flagellation (“I can’t do anything right”). Maturity permits us to pray openly, to accept imperfections in others, and to laugh at ourselves. Instead of “what about him,” maturity says, “what about me?”
Are we ever fully mature? Not in this lifetime. We are, however, always maturing. The next time you tell yourself “Oh, grow up,” give yourself this reply: “With God’s grace, I am.”
Borrowed