The Story So Far
In the last two episodes, we discussed love and goodness—slippery concepts that are more challenging to define than we might realize and even tougher to reach a consensus on.
Though the concept of love is difficult to describe, here’s the definition we’re using this season:
Love is seeking someone’s goodness based on God’s ideas.
Those ideas are not necessarily our ideas, at least not yet, or not fully. But part of the journey of a deep disciple is to experience love and goodness in the way that God intended. To see that true love, true goodness, is not something we define ourselves or allow culture to define for us. God is love, and God is good, so these things flow out of his character and are revealed through Him.
Experiencing and embracing love and goodness as Jesus did is the bedrock of any attempt to be more like him, which is why we started with that foundation.
In the next several episodes, we’ll explore some important characteristics of Jesus in this context of striving to think, act, love, and relate as he does.
You might also encounter a few surprises as we journey together because if Jesus is anything, He’s surprising.
Today, we’re going to explore a characteristic of Jesus that doesn’t necessarily get much attention but is foundational to who he is and thus who we should be: his relational security.
Let’s get started.
I Think They Ripped That Off
There’s a pivotal moment in the 1994 film The Lion King in which Simba, the lion cub now grown up, must be reminded of his past before he can confront it. He hears his father Mufasa’s voice from the clouds, rolling out with the great bass presence of James Earl Jones, telling his son:
“Remember who you are. You are my son and the one true king. Remember who you are.”
Simba sees his father’s face, hears his father’s voice, and is reminded of his identity in no uncertain terms. Then, he defeats the evil Scar, establishes his reign, and restores peace and life to the kingdom. There are undoubtedly extensive Christological themes at work here.
We would all like to hear that kind of voice from the clouds telling us exactly who we are, wouldn’t we? There has been more than one occasion in my life when a voice from the heavens would have been very welcome. But most of us don’t hear voices from the clouds.
Jesus did, though, which is probably where the Lion King animators got their ideas.
In Matthew 3:16-17, we read:
“As soon as Jesus was baptized, he went up out of the water. At that moment, heaven was opened, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, ‘This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.’”
This is a beautiful moment of relational perfection, with all three members of the Trinity apparent—Jesus the Son, the Holy Spirit descending like a dove, and God the Father speaking from Heaven. It is a picture of complete unity and relational harmony, and it reveals how Jesus could be so secure in his identity.
Now, if God spoke directly to me from Heaven, audibly and visibly declaring me his child and the apple of his eye while various witnesses looked on, it would reassure my constant inner insecurity, strengthen my faith, and remove my doubts.
But Jesus didn’t wrestle with insecurity. He didn’t struggle with doubt. His faith didn’t need strengthening.
Why?
We could say, ‘Because he’s perfect.’ And he is. But it’s a bit like saying that Jesus was sinless because he was perfect without asking the question, was he perfect because he was sinless?
So why didn’t Jesus struggle with doubt and insecurity like we do? There is certainly an argument to be made for his infallibility, his deity, as the answer. But this isn’t too helpful to us as we seek to be like him unless we too are God, and we certainly are not.
What was it about who he is that gave him such a groundedness? And can we have that as well?
Relational Security
I’ll submit for your consideration that he was deeply grounded in his identity because he was emotionally and relationally secure. He knew he was God’s son, he understood he was the king, and he recognized he was loved by his father. This knowledge, unlike that of many of us, came from the heart rather than merely the head.
Jesus grew up as the most emotionally and relationally secure person in history. That’s worth repeating: Jesus is the most emotionally and relationally secure person in history, and his remarkable words and actions flow out of that security. His inner life produced the most impactful outer life of anyone who ever lived.
Too often, relational insecurity manifests in a tendency to act a certain way in response to an established anxiety. Put another way, a relationally insecure person worries about how others see them, think about them, feel toward them, or will behave toward them and will act in ways that reflect that worry.
A relationally insecure person may develop a pattern of behavior driven by past harmful experiences that have warped their identity. Perfectionism, people-pleasing, controlling behavior – these all tie back to relational and emotional insecurity.
A woman might have been burned by a series of painful relationships with men who ultimately abandoned her. As a result, she might be guarded, mistrusting, and slow to attach—acting in a way reflective of her understandable relational insecurity.
A man might have grown up with parents who were never satisfied with his performance, who rarely gave approval or praise, and as a result, he is constantly trying to prove himself, a perfectionist who never really believes that others are satisfied with him or love him for who he is.
A child may be cruel to other children or act out with their parents because they are desperate for attention, even negative attention.
Relational insecurity drives actions that may not reflect the reality of the world but rather the ideas we have developed in our soil about that world and our identity in it. These ideas may be unconscious, often driving our behavior when we are not even aware of it. These idea-driven actions can become habits, and ingrained habits are tough to change.
When Jesus interacted with someone, his behavior was not driven by relational insecurity or harmful ideas he had developed from painful past experiences. He does not act out unhealthy, ingrained habits when he relates to people. This is clear because he relates differently every time.
Particularity
In Episodes 78 and 79, we explored the kingdom characteristic of particularity, the wonderful habit of intentionally noticing the individual. Deep disciples should embody particularity because Jesus was so consistently, impressively, and intensively particular.
The way he treats the rich young ruler is different from the woman at the well, which is different from the lepers, which is different from the disciples, which is different from the woman caught in adultery, which is different from the Pharisees… on and on it goes. He displays an incredible capacity to see each person for exactly who they are, and what is going on in their hearts, and he adapts how he relates to them accordingly.
He does not follow a script. He interacts with each individual, well, individually. That is particularity in action.
If we are seeking to relate like Jesus relates, perhaps this might suggest something to us: that whenever we allow ourselves to become formulaic, we are likely to bend in the wrong direction.
Formulaic Evangelism
Here’s an example: After decades of church evangelistic directives, we may have been trained to think that we need to share Jesus with everyone and that we should do so through a program or formula.
We have an obligation to tell every person we meet or spend any length of time with about our faith. We may even feel guilty if we spend time with people and don’t ‘witness’ to them. Evangelistic training programs abound, teaching us a simple script or formula for engaging people.
But does that reflect how Jesus acted? Did he tell everyone all about himself? Did he share with every person he met that he was the Son of God and tell them to follow him? Did he follow an evangelistic script, or bullet points, or flow charts, or a list of the same questions again and again?
We might conclude that modern evangelism demonstrates a great deal of emotional and relational insecurity. We feel we must ensure that every person hears the name of Jesus and that all the people in the pews have prayed the sinner’s prayer because, if we don’t, it reflects badly on us. So, we lean on evangelistic scripts and programs so that we can check some sort of spiritual box.
But we can too easily slip into a pattern of behavior that does not allow for nuances, the unique way every person is made, the other person’s story, or the specific circumstances of each interaction. Formulaic evangelism leaves little room for listening, one of the primary characteristics of a follower of Jesus.
Some people may not be in the right place today to hear the Gospel, but will be tomorrow. Some will need their stomachs filled first. Some will respond once a friendship is established. Some need to see kindness and genuineness displayed to overcome past exposure to cruelty or hypocrisy. Some need to talk and have their questions answered, but first, they will need to feel safe to ask those questions.
We need to allow the Holy Spirit to move and create space for the vast multitude of contextual clues that can guide us in our interactions with other people, which may not look stereotypically ‘Christian’ at all.
Rigidly formulaic Christian behavior is ultimately insecure.
Neither of these characteristics, ‘formulaic’ or ‘insecure,’ typifies what we see in Jesus.
Many, many people didn’t accept Jesus. Others didn’t get him. Some were confused and walked away. Many hated Him. And he seemed OK with that. There were times he retreated from the crowds rather than stay and preach to them. There were times he intentionally hid the truth in confusing riddles. He was endlessly creative, and he treated each interaction as what it was: a brand-new encounter, deserving a heart-serving response.
What would it look like on a personal level if we did the same? Would it mean we had to rely more heavily on the Holy Spirit to direct us? Would it mean we needed to pay closer attention to other people, really listening to their hearts to know how best to serve and relate to them?
This kind of interaction is slower, time-consuming, and it can be more raw, real, and vulnerable because it does not fall back into the familiar, comfortable, tried and true track of polite church talk. It is messier, more involved, more intimate, more careful, and more intentional than today’s versions of (let’s call it) “drive-by evangelism.”
And this remarkable individuality, this capacity to treat every person and every encounter as unique—this particularity—I believe stems from Jesus’ own relational security and attachment to the Father. He was able to intently explore the hearts of various people because He was not concerned with stabilizing and securing His own heart. His heart already was.
Jesus acted like he had nothing to prove. He wasn’t interested in displays of power for the purpose of showing everyone how mighty he was. He wasn’t on board with his disciples’ hopes that he would form an army and overthrow the Romans. He was quite content to act very differently from Jewish expectations for the Messiah in general.
Sometimes, he decided to perform miracles for all to see, including miracles that impacted thousands of people at once—like feeding a massive crowd with a few loaves and fish. Other times, he went to great pains to keep his actions secret and advised others not to tell others what he had done. He was on his own timetable. It would not be rushed, not by the Pharisees, the Romans, his disciples, or anyone else. It would proceed exactly as he determined.
Secure Does Not Mean Unemotional
Being relationally secure doesn’t mean being unemotional. Jesus was deeply emotional. He wept at the tomb of his close friend, Lazarus, even knowing Lazarus was about to be raised from the dead. He grew angry at his fellow Jews who had turned the temple into a marketplace. He was so emotionally strained in the Garden of Gethsemane before his crucifixion that he sweated blood.
Yet, in highly volatile situations, Jesus displays a remarkable ability to keep his cool. He is unflappable and unshakable.
Crossing the Sea of Galilee with his disciples, a violent storm blows in, and the disciples are terrified they are going to die. Here they are, some of them skilled fishermen well used to being out on the water, and they are horribly afraid. And there is Jesus, taking a nap.
So, a goal for us, as his followers, is to strive for the same kind of relational security and attachment to God that Jesus enjoys. That’s certainly what He wants for us.
Attachment Theory
Way back in Episode 20, I explored Attachment Theory with you and went through the four main styles of attachment that modern psychologists recognize: secure, avoidant, anxious, and disorganized. Here’s a quick recap:
People who fall into the anxious attachment style are typically clingy, emotionally unsure, and sometimes seek unhealthy relationships. Although they aren’t normally conscious of it, their hearts are frantically attempting to determine who really loves them and who doesn’t.
People who are avoidantly attached are typically distant, unemotional, and avoid closeness. Their hearts don’t take the risk of being hurt by others by not becoming too attached to others. They are often, instead, attached to work, hobbies, church, and other addictions. We all attach to something.
People who struggle with the disorganized attachment style are typically intense, inconsistent, and unpredictable. These are generally people who have suffered abusive and chaotic childhoods. Forming and maintaining an even surface-level healthy relationship is very difficult for them.
Meanwhile, people who are securely attached are typically confident, understand their self-worth, and accept support. They don’t spend much time concerned about what others think of them because they function from an inner peace and groundedness.
The first three are different types of insecure attachment. They all lead to outward expressions of insecurity, making love, trust, and goodness difficult in our daily interactions.
Securely attached people are skilled at managing stress and challenges. They have a strong sense of their own self-worth and confidence in who they are. They rely on support when needed, are healthy communicators, and are comfortable with interdependence in relationships. They don’t get derailed when people get angry with them, and they don’t spend time trying to get everyone to like them.
Jesus is the ultimate model of secure attachment. He was adept at navigating challenges, whether it was the Pharisees trying to snare him with words, the threat of the Romans, the betrayal of one of his disciples, or facing down demons, disease, and disfigurement.
A strong sense of self-worth and personal confidence? Jesus isn’t a show-off—he doesn’t flaunt his power or go around grand-standing—but he also isn’t shy about putting that power to the appropriate use. He doesn’t hesitate or waffle.
There’s no uncertainty about whether or not the demons will leave or the waves will still. He doesn’t wring his hands over whether the water will hold him when he walks on it. Jesus knows he is the Son of God. He knows that legions of angels would answer his call. He knows what he is worth to His Father.
Healthy communicator? Check. Jesus was the most skilled, shrewd, adroit, adept communicator the world has ever known.
Rely on support? He rested in the Father.
Interdependence in relationships? Jesus is the epitome of this.
The Four S’s
Doesn’t this sound amazing? Can you picture yourself at peace and secure in your inner life even when people and external circumstances are raging around you?
How can we, too, be secure? How can we be securely attached to the Father? How can we be securely attached to other healthy people and to ourselves?
I’ve quoted psychiatrist Curt Thompson before, who states, “We cannot feel secure until we are seen, soothed, and safe.”
Curt Thompson refers to what Dan Siegel and Tina Payne Bryson describe as the “Four S’s” of secure attachment in their book The Power of Showing Up. They discuss the four S’s in relation to children.
- Safe – Helping children feel both physically and emotionally at ease
- Seen – Paying attention to a child’s emotions and trying to understand what’s going on in their hearts
- Soothed – Teaching children how to cope with difficult situations and being there to support them
- Secure – Providing a sense of reliability so that children can trust that you’ll show up for them
Siegel and Bryson explain that when children feel safe, seen, and soothed, they develop a sense of security and are more likely to form trusting relationships and explore the world. The Four S’s can be applied to all relationships, including adult relationships.
Safe, seen, soothed, and secure.
To be seen, in the way Curt Thompson often writes about it, is to be known—and we humans, he points out, are not so great at this. Thompson writes elsewhere:
“…we’re not very skilled at being known. Consequently, we’re not that great at being loved. Notice, I didn’t say we’re not great at loving (although we could use a crash course or two on that as well); I said we’re not that effective at receiving love, and for myriad reasons. But the bottom line is, we can’t give what we don’t have.”
We can’t feel seen until we allow ourselves to be known, and this won’t happen until we allow ourselves to be loved. It can be hard to let ourselves be loved, sometimes because our hearts have accepted the idea that we are undeserving of it. We might give grace freely to anyone but ourselves. We might forgive readily a major offense in others but hold ourselves to task for a minor infraction. We are often our own worst enemies.
But as singer-songwriter Andrew Peterson puts it in his song “Be Kind to Yourself”:
How does it end when the war that you’re in
Is just you against you against you?
You’ve got to learn to love, learn to love,
Learn to love your enemies too
To be secure in our relationship with God, we internalize the idea that we are co-heirs with Christ, that we are God’s children with all of the benefits. To be secure in our relationship with ourselves, we learn to forgive ourselves, receive love, and allow ourselves to be known—to be seen, soothed, safe, and secure, even as adults.
Hear the Voice
Let’s go back to the voice from the clouds. We see Jesus, the Holy Spirit descending like a dove, and God the Father speaking from heaven, saying, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.” Many translations have it: “This is my beloved son.”
This is the ultimate expression of the ultimately secure relationship. Jesus walked in the reality of being the beloved.
But here’s what’s truly hard to wrap our heads around – those words are also meant for us. We can experience that same secure relational attachment to the Father because of Jesus. We are the beloved. We have every right to walk in the same reality of being safe, seen, soothed and secure.
What does it mean for us to live in the reality of being beloved? Not simply to grasp the idea intellectually, but for our hearts to settle into it… for that idea to mold and shape everything about who we are and how we see ourselves in the world.
And I don’t think I’m alone. Many people struggle with the fact that their experiences don’t match with the abundant life that is promised in the Bible. Where is the perfect peace, the sense of contentment in all things, the everlasting joy?
It’s natural to ask, if I follow Jesus, why don’t I experience that? Is it just me? Does everybody else have it all together? What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with my relationship with God?
We may not have that security yet, but he desires it for us, not just in the life to come but in this life. It’s foundational to being a deep disciple. In most cases, this is not something that can merely be told to you, and your heart will accept it: it needs to be experienced.
The path of a deep disciple involves slowly releasing our harmful ideas and tendencies, our fear and anxiety, our anger and our doubt, our perfectionism, our people-pleasing, and our need for control.
The bedrock of this change is the experience of relational security in God.
We can be supported in this through spiritual disciplines like silence and solitude, prayer and fasting, by the Holy Spirit, by reading the Bible, and by intentionally just being with the Father, not to accomplish anything but simply to spend time together.
Another way to be relationally secure with the Father, too often overlooked, is to spend time with other people who are also relationally secure with the Father and who are on the same journey as you. In fact, intentionally being with people who are chasing after Jesus may well be one of the best ways for us to experience what it means to be the beloved.
So, if you struggle with anxiety, or a longing for control, or if your thought patterns are negative… if you follow Christ but you wonder why the abundant life is not your life… take courage.
You are beloved, too. Let’s experience it together.
