Ahhhhhh!!! A chance to breathe out and relax. Lynne and I got to enjoy a little vacation last week, and it was certainly good to unwind, unplug, and untask. It took me five days before I started sleeping in later than I normally do. We headed to the Lake of the Ozarks and ate our way from north to south.
One gray afternoon, we went for a drive. Along the turns and hills, we passed a scene that I now regret not stopping, backtracking, and getting a picture. Two signs, side-by-side on the same post, pointing in opposite directions. Pointing to the east, a sign for Casa de Loco winery; pointing to the west, a sign for Highway AA. Winery this way, and AA that way. Go too often in one direction, and you're going to need to go the other direction for 12 Steps. (But don't drink and drive.) OK, so it's not that AA, but I still got a chuckle out of it.
But where in real life do we try to hold opposing, contradictory forces side-by-side with no sense of irony, as if they can coexist in our lives peacefully?
The Internet is an obvious example - too obvious. On the same screen, in two windows side-by-side, we can read great advice on keeping our marriages vital and at the same time degrade women to mere objects; we can read healthy Mediterranean diet recipes and track the progress of the pizza we ordered; we can read an online Bible about loving our neighbor and blog about how people who vote the other way are all morons; we can reconnect with old friends and waste hours removed from humanity without even changing URLs! This way to the winery, that way to AA, all on the same signpost.
We can't believe both.
More significantly, we do this in our relationships. We treat the ones we love most in ways we'd never be so rude treating total strangers. We say "I love you" most frequently to the people we most frequently take for granted. We tear down those we have been specifically chosen to build up. We crush those we are to raise, we put away those we are to honor, we serve emotional poison in cups we take turns washing. This way to the winery, that way to AA, all on the same signpost.
James 3:9 says this about the tongue: With it we bless the Lord and Father, and with it we curse people made in God’s image.
We do this. We admit it. But we can't sustain it. We cannot forever hold eternal opposites in one hand. We will eventually let go of one of them ... or both. Let go now. Check your signposts to see those opposing signs with fresh eyes. It's hard to bless well with a cursing tongue.
Monday, June 30, 2014
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
The Value of a Jerk
What an annoying jerk!
Last evening, I was sitting in a Starbucks waiting to meet with one of the guys, reading my book. My nose was buried in a chapter describing how the primary attribute of any person is not comprised of his faults, but from the image of God that He has placed in each one of us. The image of God, the book claims, defines us and gives us an inherent value that no amount of negative characteristics can wipe out.
As if on cue to test the theory, the table behind me was promptly occupied by a man, a woman, and the woman's daughter. The man surpassed annoying in less than 10 seconds, and built on his accomplishment from there. I began to wonder if the chapter referred to every single human being except one.
He interrupted, he was loud, and he clearly didn't listen much to others. He spoke to the girl, who looked to be about 11, in a manner less mature than she responded with. He complained about the trouble he was having with the unemployment office because they "claimed" he resigned his previous job, as he then went on to describe how he left the job of his own accord rather than get fired. (At least he didn't resign.) As he worked on his $4.50 drink (paid for by the woman), he whined that because of the unemployment office, he could not afford to take the woman out to dinner. Which he then immediately followed with a suggestion to the girl that the two of them spend the entire next day at the pool working on their tans. When the woman and daughter left, he made sure that the girl kissed him. I think the rest of the people in the coffeehouse heard my alarm bells going off.
It was therefore particularly difficult to get through that chapter of the book and give it any credibility at all. The chapter described people worse than this yahoo, but they (though real) were mere characters on a page to me. This guy was fouling my air.
Is it really true that everyone has inherent value just because they bear the image of God? Does this guy? Forget the monsters of human history - I need to resolve this idea with this guy before I can accept it as true.
First, there is the false assumption that my list of character flaws, annoying ways, and sins is somehow more meritorious than his. I'm not annoying in his ways, so I must be more deserving of this inherent value than he is. Even if I would score more favorably on some universal annoyance scale, it is false to say that I therefore have more of the image of God than he.
Second, this inherent value comes from an external source (God), while our horrible, annoying characteristics come from an internal source. If the value is external, and if that external source is unchanging, then everyone must have the same inherent, high value, no matter how unpleasantly the internal source spoils the environment it occupies.
Third, if I in any way limit the reach of the inherent value we receive from God's image, then I limit the reach of grace. I have no such authority.
So, the challenge for me is how to appreciate that jerk's inherent value. At this point, it's not his issue, but mine. The reason I have trouble with this is internal to me, independent of him. It's because I have yet to fully embrace how effectively God's image brings inherent value to everyone who bears it. It's because I have my standards that people must meet before I value them, placing a Law on them of my own device.
The chapter wasn't wrong. My attitude is.
Last evening, I was sitting in a Starbucks waiting to meet with one of the guys, reading my book. My nose was buried in a chapter describing how the primary attribute of any person is not comprised of his faults, but from the image of God that He has placed in each one of us. The image of God, the book claims, defines us and gives us an inherent value that no amount of negative characteristics can wipe out.
As if on cue to test the theory, the table behind me was promptly occupied by a man, a woman, and the woman's daughter. The man surpassed annoying in less than 10 seconds, and built on his accomplishment from there. I began to wonder if the chapter referred to every single human being except one.
He interrupted, he was loud, and he clearly didn't listen much to others. He spoke to the girl, who looked to be about 11, in a manner less mature than she responded with. He complained about the trouble he was having with the unemployment office because they "claimed" he resigned his previous job, as he then went on to describe how he left the job of his own accord rather than get fired. (At least he didn't resign.) As he worked on his $4.50 drink (paid for by the woman), he whined that because of the unemployment office, he could not afford to take the woman out to dinner. Which he then immediately followed with a suggestion to the girl that the two of them spend the entire next day at the pool working on their tans. When the woman and daughter left, he made sure that the girl kissed him. I think the rest of the people in the coffeehouse heard my alarm bells going off.
It was therefore particularly difficult to get through that chapter of the book and give it any credibility at all. The chapter described people worse than this yahoo, but they (though real) were mere characters on a page to me. This guy was fouling my air.
Is it really true that everyone has inherent value just because they bear the image of God? Does this guy? Forget the monsters of human history - I need to resolve this idea with this guy before I can accept it as true.
First, there is the false assumption that my list of character flaws, annoying ways, and sins is somehow more meritorious than his. I'm not annoying in his ways, so I must be more deserving of this inherent value than he is. Even if I would score more favorably on some universal annoyance scale, it is false to say that I therefore have more of the image of God than he.
Second, this inherent value comes from an external source (God), while our horrible, annoying characteristics come from an internal source. If the value is external, and if that external source is unchanging, then everyone must have the same inherent, high value, no matter how unpleasantly the internal source spoils the environment it occupies.
Third, if I in any way limit the reach of the inherent value we receive from God's image, then I limit the reach of grace. I have no such authority.
So, the challenge for me is how to appreciate that jerk's inherent value. At this point, it's not his issue, but mine. The reason I have trouble with this is internal to me, independent of him. It's because I have yet to fully embrace how effectively God's image brings inherent value to everyone who bears it. It's because I have my standards that people must meet before I value them, placing a Law on them of my own device.
The chapter wasn't wrong. My attitude is.
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
I Warned You Not to Put These Two Together
Two beloved passages of Scripture, memorized, quoted, read for encouragement, recited at weddings, but not often put together. That's a bit odd, since they are about the same topic.
The first passage: Love your neighbor as yourself (Mt 19:19; Mk 12:31; Lk 10:27; Ro 13:9; Ga 5:14; Jas 2:8). Jesus calls this the second greatest commandment of all, second only to loving the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength. That must be pretty important!
The second passage: The "love chapter" (1 Cor 13), which is best remembered from verse 4 on: Love is patient, love is kind, ... It's a lovely verse to think of with your sweetheart in mind.
However, I don't think I've ever heard these two great passages put together. Let's give it a try:
Think of your neighbors. Include people of a different faith or political stripe. Think of the not-so-nice neighbors. Think of the people in our communities who end up in the news. Reread this combined passage with these neighbors in mind. Yeah ... those neighbors. Go ahead ... reread it. I'll wait.
Now, go love your neighbor as yourself.
The first passage: Love your neighbor as yourself (Mt 19:19; Mk 12:31; Lk 10:27; Ro 13:9; Ga 5:14; Jas 2:8). Jesus calls this the second greatest commandment of all, second only to loving the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength. That must be pretty important!
The second passage: The "love chapter" (1 Cor 13), which is best remembered from verse 4 on: Love is patient, love is kind, ... It's a lovely verse to think of with your sweetheart in mind.
However, I don't think I've ever heard these two great passages put together. Let's give it a try:
4Love is patient with its neighbor, love is kind to its neighbor and is not jealous of its neighbor's stuff; love does not brag to its neighbor and is not arrogant around its neighbor, 5does not act unbecomingly toward its neighbor or its neighbor's spouse; it does not seek its own in competition with its neighbor, is not provoked by its neighbor, does not take into account a wrong suffered by its neighbor, 6does not rejoice in its neighbor's unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth along with its neighbor;7bears all things perpetrated by its neighbor, believes all things for its neighbor's benefit, hopes all things for its neighbor, endures all things by its neighbor.
8Love never fails its neighbor ... 13But now faith, hope, love, abide these three; but the greatest of these is loving your neighbor as yourself ... second only to loving the Lord your God with all of your heart, mind, soul, and strength.
Think of your neighbors. Include people of a different faith or political stripe. Think of the not-so-nice neighbors. Think of the people in our communities who end up in the news. Reread this combined passage with these neighbors in mind. Yeah ... those neighbors. Go ahead ... reread it. I'll wait.
Now, go love your neighbor as yourself.
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
Wally Speaks: Being There
The office bore the scars of a neglectful three years. Dimly lit, monochromatically drab with tired furniture that squeaked from old age and piles of forgotten papers, the "pastor's office" housed more artifacts than conversations. It slow-cooked every occasional visitor to help reduce the electric bill, and only a handful of the church's attenders could even tell you where it was. Every Tuesday afternoon for a semester, I traded beads of sweat in that room for the advantage of sitting with the interim pastor, a man worn peaceful over forty years serving others as a pastor and mentor throughout Southern California. He was Wally Norling, and those future pastors he mentored were called "Wally's Boys" (Larry Osborne, for example). Wally passed away in 2010.
I wasn't afforded enough time with Wally to ever warrant the label. But his soft-spoken, confident advice still props up much of what I do and how I do it. The contrast of his seasoned, cool wisdom and that sauna of a tattered room only amplified his gentle words - the church building is merely a prop on a larger stage. More importantly, ministry looks a lot like a mentor and his apprentice sitting together and not at all like a church calendar spilling over with harried activities.
Our paths to these meetings bore no resemblance to one another. He determined to be pastor at age 5, and was a shepherd to his very core all his days. I left behind 15 years of software at age 35 to attend seminary, and was well-versed in all the people skills you'd expect in a computer programmer. I was 40 years his junior, knowing nothing of that which came so effortlessly to him. By the way he answered me, I could usually tell when I accidentally asked a meaningful question. One of my best questions was hatched after my first "pastoral" hospital visit.
A dear, elderly lady had fallen dangerously ill and was only partially responsive, bedridden as she recovered in a rehab facility. Armed with every bit of the bedside manner one gains from coding C++, I fumbled, stuttered, and awkwardly silenced my way through 30 minutes that I later prayed her illness would prevent her from remembering. Happily, she recovered over time ... and never once mentioned that I had visited her. Whether that was illness or grace matters little to me.
In my next meeting with Wally, I managed slightly better verbal skills to mutter a mess of questions asking how to handle such situations - what to say, how to make people feel better, how to help them put illness in great, theological perspective, and so on. In effect, I was asking how to "fix" the situation like I was accustomed to fixing bugs in software.
Wally simply said, "90% of ministry is just being there." A lot like the time he had been spending with me, patiently waiting for one of my questions to be substantive.
Get out a concordance of the Bible. Search for "thou shalt fix." Nothing. No variation, no similar phrase. Search of "one another," and you'll quickly have a long list. Look for how many times the Lord reassures us by simply saying, "I am with you" or "I will be with you" or "I will never leave you." Even the Lord says, "A great deal of My ministry to you is just being with you."
Be there. Put "fixing stuff" way down on the list. Be there when people are sick and non-responsive. Be there when they have gotten fired. Be there when their dog dies. Be there when they are mad at God. Be there when they are drunk, in jail, stranded in the mud of their own creation, or cursing the whole world, including you. Be there when you don't know what to say or what to do. If you can convey that "I'm here to demonstrate that the Lord will never forsake you," you have done 90% of ministry.
I wasn't afforded enough time with Wally to ever warrant the label. But his soft-spoken, confident advice still props up much of what I do and how I do it. The contrast of his seasoned, cool wisdom and that sauna of a tattered room only amplified his gentle words - the church building is merely a prop on a larger stage. More importantly, ministry looks a lot like a mentor and his apprentice sitting together and not at all like a church calendar spilling over with harried activities.
Our paths to these meetings bore no resemblance to one another. He determined to be pastor at age 5, and was a shepherd to his very core all his days. I left behind 15 years of software at age 35 to attend seminary, and was well-versed in all the people skills you'd expect in a computer programmer. I was 40 years his junior, knowing nothing of that which came so effortlessly to him. By the way he answered me, I could usually tell when I accidentally asked a meaningful question. One of my best questions was hatched after my first "pastoral" hospital visit.
A dear, elderly lady had fallen dangerously ill and was only partially responsive, bedridden as she recovered in a rehab facility. Armed with every bit of the bedside manner one gains from coding C++, I fumbled, stuttered, and awkwardly silenced my way through 30 minutes that I later prayed her illness would prevent her from remembering. Happily, she recovered over time ... and never once mentioned that I had visited her. Whether that was illness or grace matters little to me.
In my next meeting with Wally, I managed slightly better verbal skills to mutter a mess of questions asking how to handle such situations - what to say, how to make people feel better, how to help them put illness in great, theological perspective, and so on. In effect, I was asking how to "fix" the situation like I was accustomed to fixing bugs in software.
Wally simply said, "90% of ministry is just being there." A lot like the time he had been spending with me, patiently waiting for one of my questions to be substantive.
Get out a concordance of the Bible. Search for "thou shalt fix." Nothing. No variation, no similar phrase. Search of "one another," and you'll quickly have a long list. Look for how many times the Lord reassures us by simply saying, "I am with you" or "I will be with you" or "I will never leave you." Even the Lord says, "A great deal of My ministry to you is just being with you."
Be there. Put "fixing stuff" way down on the list. Be there when people are sick and non-responsive. Be there when they have gotten fired. Be there when their dog dies. Be there when they are mad at God. Be there when they are drunk, in jail, stranded in the mud of their own creation, or cursing the whole world, including you. Be there when you don't know what to say or what to do. If you can convey that "I'm here to demonstrate that the Lord will never forsake you," you have done 90% of ministry.
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