I don’t wanna grow up, I’m a Toys R Us kid; there’s a million toys at Toys R Us that I can play with! From bikes to trains to video games it’s the biggest toy store there is! I don’t wanna grow up, ‘cause baby if I did, I wouldn’t be a Toys R Us kid.
I’m not exactly sure how I still remember that little advertising jingle from my childhood. Perhaps because I heard it over and over and over again. When I was a youngster, Toys R Us was the quintessential toy store, and their ads ran on TV almost incessantly. Or maybe I remember it so clearly because, for me, Toys R Us was some sort of an unattained desire; Toys R Us was for me like the Promised Land was for Moses—so close I could taste it. Just never quite got there. For, you see, while it was the most popular toy store, it was also the most expensive. Thus most of my playthings came from K-Mart or the dollar store (which, incidentally, had equally good stuff; but at the time, there was something unspeakably alluring about the ambience of that giant giraffe who ever beckoned me to come view his wares). But whatever the reason may be, that little song for that mega store is permanently etched in my brain cells. I’ll probably be humming it when I’m 90.
But as I was contemplating the actual lyrics of the ad, I came to realize they’re not entirely true. All this stuff about not wanting to grow up—that’s not really how most kids think. Go back with me for just a moment, back in time to when you were yourself a little boy or girl. What was the worst thing you could be called? A kid, of course! Most children can’t wait to get older, because grown-ups—in their perspective—have it so much better. I vividly recall at 9 or 10 years of age playing on my swing set with my nephew (who is four years younger than me) and discussing what it’d be like to get married, what I wanted to study in college, what my house was going to look like, et cetera. And after all, no one can tell a grown-up when to go to bed. No one can make a grown-up eat his vegetables. Grown-ups get to drive, they get to go where they want when they want, they can say whatever they choose—from a kid’s vantage point, adults seem to have it made in the shade. Of course, as an adult, I can look back and see what a grievous error it was to believe such a thing. Indeed, there are certain benefits to being a man—but being a kid was nice too. Still, many if not most children have it in their minds that adulthood is where it’s at—and eagerly anticipate growing up.
And, in the natural realm, we all do grow up. We age, and as we do so (under normal circumstances) we get bigger. Our bodies change and develop. We gain skills and abilities. We increase in knowledge. In short, we mature. Well, hopefully we do. Because truthfully, maturity—a word that conveys a sense of well-roundedness or completeness—doesn’t always accompany the physical aging process. Everyone advances in years, but it takes some folks longer to advance in their level of maturation.
This is so because the body’s developmental stages have been ordered and set into motion by God himself. They are innate, meaning that we don’t have to do anything to trigger them or bring them about. They’re going to occur without our assistance, and sometimes whether we like it or not. Such changes are quite difficult to speed up or slow down, and generally fall in line at relatively predictable times.
However, maturity outside of the physical alterations that occur—learning to live, act, and think responsibly in a way appropriate to one’s age and station in life—is something that must be consciously developed and sustained. It’s not something inherent. It’s something that each individual must endeavor to practice. This is why we, at times, see very mature 13-year-olds and (conversely) immature 40-year-olds. Maturity is more about personal resolve than it is about biological or natural tendencies.
And when I ponder Paul’s letter to the Ephesian church, I notice that much of what he says to the believers there is concerned with their personal resolve—with their intentional efforts to maintain upright and holy lives. In the beginning of this morning’s passage, he exhorts them to “lead a life worthy of the calling with which [they] have been called”; in the chapters preceding this one, the apostle has expounded upon what it means to live in a manner that is considered godly—in a manner that exemplifies a Christ-like character. And he continues to offer such explanations here. To me, this suggests that Paul was entirely concerned with followers of Christ not just talking a good talk; he demanded they walk a good walk as well.
Paul speaks of several things that typify a Christian existence—things like humility, gentleness, patience, love, unity, and peace. He then goes on to list seven “ones” that draw believers together and make the aforementioned traits (and others) possible: one body, one Spirit, one hope, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, and one God. It’s no accident that seven things are named here, because seven is a number which represents perfection or being whole (which, incidentally, is what spiritual maturity is all about).
Indeed, by the time we get to verse thirteen, Paul makes the point of this passage clear: he is calling the church at Ephesus to maturation—to a level thereof that is on par with what had been witnessed in the person of Christ. The word “maturity” here is teleios in the Greek, which has many connotations. But the one that speaks most loudly to me is its conveyance of a sense of “consummate human integrity and value.” What did Jesus represent, if not these things? Obviously Jesus was perfect—the only perfect person who ever lived or will ever live; how, then, can Paul be so audacious as to call mere mortals—everyday folk like you and me—to show forth the same qualities as the Savior? Can we really represent consummate human integrity and value? Can we ever say we are finished? Can we ever say we want nothing necessary to completeness?
I don’t believe that, in this life, we can. I do, however, believe with all my heart that we can move toward and it ought to be pressing forward in our pursuit. Absolute spiritual maturity is no more attainable that absolute maturity in other matters. You know why? Because no matter how mature you think you are—no matter how complete or whole you feel—it’s kind of like Jell-O: there’s always room for more. I felt pretty mature at age 13. And again at 18. And again at 21. And again at 25. But what I see in hindsight is that, all along, there were aspects of my life that needed improvement and areas that required growth. I feel pretty good about 28. But when I’m 35, I’m sure I’ll see things differently.
In verse fourteen, Paul tells us that “we must no longer be children”—and note how he includes himself in that sentiment! That in itself is a perfect example of what I was just saying: wherever you’re at in the faith, you can always be farther along. Even this greatest of Christian missionaries believed there were facets of his walk that needed to be honed. You can always learn something new. You can always deepen your understanding of God, and strengthen your bond with him. In fact, Paul goes on to say that “we must grow up in every way…into Christ.”
But not all of us take those steps toward growth. I had the occasion to speak with a woman just a few days ago, and as our conversation progressed we gravitated toward spiritual matters. We talked of Bible translations, particularly the King James Version (as I just so happened to have one handy—a facsimile of the authorized version of 1611, completely rendered in the Elizabethan English of the day). As we chatted, she posed a question that both shocked and dismayed me; she asked, “Was King James before or after Jesus?” I looked at her and, seeing the serious expression on her face, understood that she honestly didn’t know. I explained that Jesus of Nazareth was born around 4 B.C. and died between 30-33 A.D.—putting him well before the King James Version was compiled in the seventeenth century. She digested this new-found info, thought for a moment, then said, “Okay—but Moses was after that, right?”
Now this is a lady who is nearly forty, who’s been baptized and has been a professing Christian for many years. And yet, somehow, she wasn’t aware of these very simple—very elementary—precepts. It’s certain that her deficiency of understanding might be a case which is a bit extreme. But it caused me to wonder: not are there others—but how many others are sitting in pews (or even preaching from the pulpits!) who haven’t progressed in their spiritual maturation as much as they could have or should have? How many are there who have been members of churches for 20, 30, 40, or even 50 years—but are still, developmentally, “baby Christians”? The woman who asked me those questions did so not because she’s unintelligent; she did so simply out of a lack of knowledge—a lack that stems from her immaturity in the faith, which exists because she hasn’t taken the time to cultivate her relationship with God.
And this is precisely the crux of what Paul is telling us: we must always be moving forward in our striving to reach Christian maturity. We must, therefore, daily work on our walk with God. It’s not something that just happens. You don’t just wake up one day to find you’re suddenly complete in Christ. It takes awhile. I think that’s why the primary color in this season after Pentecost—the season sometimes called Kingdomtide—is green, symbolizing growth. It’s the longest season on the church calendar, spanning over twenty weeks.
This tells me that not only is our growth as followers of Jesus important—it also takes some time. It can be hard and, every so often, downright wearisome. So we must set our minds upon and work toward being more humble, more gentle, more patient, more loving, more united, and more peaceful. Mature Christians recognize that there is one body—holy, apostolic, and universal; that there is one Spirit and but one hope; that there is only one fit to be called Lord—even Jesus; that there is one faith that saves us; one baptism which cleanses and prepares us; and one true God who calls us to himself.
Am I saying that I expect us to leave here on this day and be absolutely flawless, living sinless and conducting ourselves in utmost holiness? Do I expect us to become scholars overnight, grasping all the mysteries of God’s word completely? Of course not. To expect that would be preposterous. But I do expect us to go forth with an understanding that the Christian life is not static. We should always be growing, developing, and changing for the better. We need to study and learn—searching the scriptures and meditating on the word until we become grounded in the truth. We should be moving, with each step we take, toward the character of Christ—which is the pinnacle of maturity.
So it’s time to grow up and no longer be kids. I know this world has lots of stuff we’d rather play with. Let us focus our faith and train our brains, and live like the Master lived. Yes it’s time to grow up ‘cause Jesus bids that we’d no longer be immature kids.
