By Jim Nichols

It is probably asking too much routinely of a television newscast, but the other night a single sentence had some weight. The story concerned a criminal activity in another state; it was a serious situation in action and consequences. In the report, an attorney for one of the accused said, “He’s only eighteen; he had no idea what he was doing.”

You and I might disagree as to whether that is a legitimate excuse and whether it should relieve a level of responsibility and punishment, but it was a reminder that, as we mature, we go through predictable steps of maturity and learning. This is not just television eye-catching stuff, but true at the deepest spiritual level.

You and I are clearly quite different people now than we were at earlier stages of our lives. We have different physical and emotional capabilities, and our set of experiences has broadened and deepened since then.

Excellent thinkers have suggested different sets of activities that are fundamental sections of the first part of our lives. Author Richard Rohr notes the “first half” of life (no specific dates involved) features how we must each build a “container” for our life and then fill that container with those items that make “us” into “us.”

This container is personally and individually “mine.” It primarily relates to my self-image and self-identity. If you can remember being around young children, you can remember seeing this activity in action almost minute by minute. Who is Mommy and who is Daddy? Who am I? Where do I fit with everyone else? The world is narrow and expanding quickly. This container must be maintained and secure; this is the safe place.

As we build our container, we also begin filling it. Outside the boundaries of our container there were other experiences and points of learning and enjoyment. What will I have to do to maintain myself? If I face a threat, how do I maintain my safety? If I am hungry or thirsty, how do I satisfy those needs? If I am frightened, how do I find assurance? Perhaps, with this last item there may be beginnings of spiritual thinking. This makes me afraid, where is my protection and advice source?

My container will need components so that I can maintain myself as my previous sources of maintenance become unavailable. I will need practical and social skills and education. When my sources of reassurance fade away, what will replace them? Once again, the door toward spiritual wondering cracks open a bit.

My container will need companions. My own trajectory will be built in cooperation with others who are also filling their containers. Together with my companions through the years, we will wrestle with what questions are the best ones to ask. Learning to ask the correct questions has great human and spiritual value. We can each think of companions during pivotal times of life who were invaluable to our direction.

My career as a university professor has given me experience in watching students develop their containers and fill them with experiences and companions. Some of them perform the tasks with relative ease while others struggle and stagger. When we are younger, we do not realize the level of assurance and confidence that our parents and other adults provide. Do you remember your first job interview? Just you, no one else. Do you remember your first visit for a medical visit alone? Just you, no one else.

Developing skills in dealing with disorder in life is an important learning experience. We learn not every plan works or every desire can be fulfilled. 

It is important that sensitivity to the spiritual world accompany this growth. The problem with the “container and contents” pattern (although I tried to make it here) is that it can develop into selfishness. I believe that God loves each person and that God desires us to live in harmony with one another. Acknowledging God’s historic and current involvement in human life is a critical part of becoming a mature human. 

Jim Nichols is a retired Abilene Christian University biology professor and current hospital chaplain