You Can Tell Me You're "Fine"

We all know the routine. It has become instinctive. We meet, then I say, "How are you?" and then you say "Fine." No matter what, even if your house just exploded and your cat ate your smartphone, things are "fine." Sometimes when we're feeling extra-cordial, we flip the script to the same effect.

This routine has birthed a secondary routine - now we knowingly fuss about the fact that we say "fine" when we don't mean it. We "solve" the problem by acknowledging it, talking about it, fussing about it to one another, but then the very next morning, "How are you?" ... "Fine." Then later, we knowingly fuss again, but then the very next day after that, we recite our routine again perfectly. (By now, we are assuming that everyone who says "fine" is lying, oddly enough.)

However, you can tell me you're "fine." Go right ahead. I won't bat an eye, I won't wink and assume you're not fine, and I won't fuss. If you want to tell me you're fine, please do.

You are in control of what you tell me about yourself. No amount of fussing about faux "fines" gives me the right to demand from you how you're really doing. My wink and nod that "fine" might be "awful" does not obligate you to tell me anything other than what you want me to know. Unless we are tight friends who owe each other unfiltered truth by mutual permission, you owe me nothing other than what you want me to know.

If you want me to think you're fine, no matter if you are or aren't, then tell me you're fine. I'll take it at face value because that's what you're telling me to do. You may not want me meddling into the sore spots of your life. You may not be ready yet to talk about something unpleasant. I may not be the right person to listen to you. This might not be the right time or place. You might not even be able to say, "I'm not fine, but let's talk about it later." (But, if you want to say that, then say that.)

I don't have to be the one who knows, who listens, who talks about it, or who's on the inside. I'm willing to be, but I don't have to be. How you're doing is not about me - it's about you. So, unless you're one of my very few tight friends who owe me bare honesty, you can tell me "fine" no matter what, and I will treat you as if everything is fine ... because that's what you're telling me to do. It might even be therapeutic if I treat you as if things are fine - I don't know, and I'm not expert enough to tell you otherwise.

If you say "fine" but you secretly want me to doubt you and dig, I probably won't. It's not fair to everyone else to assume that you're not telling me how you want me to treat you. Unless we're tight or unless I have sufficient probable cause, I won't dig. I'm simple that way - if you tell me not to dig, I usually put down my shovel.

For your sake, however, have at least two people in your life (other than your spouse) who never put down their shovels, and who you will tell the truth to, regardless. Have two or more tight friends that when they ask, "How are you?", you tell them the truth no matter what. It doesn't have to be me, and honestly, I can't be that person for the lot of you. For your health and so that you never swim the ocean alone, have those people in your life, and never, ever tell them "fine" unless it's true.

Your Christmas Gift

For Christmas, I promise to not give you a present instead of love. I can't give presents to everyone, but I won't give anyone a gift as a substitute for showing love. I won't try to buy anyone's appreciation by giving a gift wrapped with expectations. Every gift will be an expression of love.

For Christmas, I promise to not assess anyone by the gift they give me (or don't give me). What you give, how you give, to whom you give is your business. You owe me nothing. My kind of Christmas doesn't obligate you to anything whatsoever. Giving you the Gift of Obligation to give me something is no gift at all.

For Christmas, I promise to never say "Merry Christmas" without thinking about the birth of Christ. You don't have to believe what I believe, and I won't foist my beliefs on you. I won't constantly remind you what Christmas means to me. But I will be thinking about it ... I promise. I think it's a wonderful idea that God became man.

For Christmas, I promise to show you respect for whatever holidays you celebrate. That's the beauty of holidays. They are times of special remembrance for important events or values that are personally held by a group of people. Respect is one of the values Christmas brings to my mind, so that's what I want to give you. In fact, I'd like to learn more about your holidays, if you don't mind. I hope your holidays are filled with family, friends, and celebration.

For Christmas, I promise to not let my "bah, humbug" tendencies ruin your day. There's a lot about this time of year that I don't like, but there's so much more about this season that people do like that I promise to keep my inner Scrooge to remain inner.

For Christmas, I promise to not ask you what you got for Christmas. But I to promise to ask if you had a good Christmas (or holiday). By asking you what presents you got, I only reinforce the "getting" aspect. I won't even ask what you gave, because that becomes a backhanded way to do the same thing. What I do care about is if you had a good time with family and friends, or by having alone time. I do care if this time we take our focus off of the grind was meaningful, joyful, restorative, and healing. Did you laugh? Did you celebrate? Were there things to be thankful for? How did things go with that friend after the argument you got into over the summer? Did the grandparents get to see the grandkids? How's your dad's eyesight doing?

For Christmas, I promise to remember that this is a hard time for some. This might be the first Christmas since someone close passed away. Christmas may drudge up horrible memories. Christmas may end up being a lonely time. I get that. I've felt that a few Christmases. I wish I could give you the gift of something other, but what I can do is try to be aware if this ends up being less fun for you.

For Christmas, I promise to look forward to seeing you again. Maybe it'll just be a few days until you get back from Springfield (every state seems to have one). Maybe it will be months from now. Maybe years. But Christmas reminds me of the vast array of people we've met and how much we would love to see you again (including those I need to heal a hurt relationship with). We've moved enough to collect a pile of friends who we may never see again. I still want to, and Christmas makes me want to all the more.

Handling the Intersection

I haven't ever hurt myself running with scissors, so I assume I can just run faster with them and be OK. I haven't gotten fired yet for a blog post, so ... let's talk about the Muslim issue.

Of course, there is no singular "Muslim issue." We could talk about theology, we could talk about general immigration, we could talk about the Syrian refugees, we could talk about ISIS, or some other related issue. And whatever conclusions might be drawn about one of these aren't necessarily transferable to any of the others. It's like saying let's discuss "the Christian issue" or "the political issue" or "the baseball issue" - too many variables to reduce the topic down to one, digestible idea.

I have opinions on each of these and more, but it's not my goal here to explain my views or in any way tell you what you should conclude. My point here is to challenge you who are followers of Jesus on how you come to those conclusions.

I have seen Christians respond in such a broad spectrum of ways that it appears we're reading out of two different Bibles (or more). Not to critique any particular view, I've seen people who want to shut and lock the door, others who want people to knock and know the secret password before getting in, others who want to cautiously hold the door open, and still others who want to leave the door wide open. (The "door" refers to anything from immigration to theological discourse.)

I offer the following thoughts to consider in order to determine what you think about the various ways Muslims intersect your life.

A follower's primary citizenship is in heaven, not the U.S. As you sort through these issues, remember your primary citizenship. We should operate without wavering according to that Kingdom, and then according to the nation only where it doesn't conflict. How do the ways that are specific to the Kingdom of God determine what we should think, say, and do? What did Jesus teach about that Kingdom? 

There certainly is room for loyalty to one's nation, but at least we should be able to agree that Jesus taught us to seek the Kingdom before everything else. Not only ask yourself what are the attributes and ways of the Kingdom, but how do I seek the Kingdom - even pursue it - by how I think through these issues? How am I seeking the Kingdom first by trying to figure out what to think and do?

This also means that we can have two goals - the goal as a follower of Christ and the goal as a citizen of this country. Those two goals may not end up being the same thing! Believe it or not, it's OK to have dissonance here. In fact, conflating the two ideas prevents us from thinking through either one rightly. However, the goal as a follower must have priority over the goal as a citizen wherever they are different.

The Great Commission is our main mission. Jesus was very clear in His post-resurrection appearances that what He wants us to do as first priority is to make disciples from every nation for Him. It's also clear that His model for doing so is through loving relationships. How we decide our response to issues related to Muslims must be for the purpose of achieving our highest task - making disciples from all nations through relationships. What will best help us progress in that mission over the long haul? Over the short haul?

Would Jesus do what I'm doing, say what I'm saying? This is kind of the inverse of WWJD. If I step out of myself and listen to what I just said or watch what I just did, can I reasonably conclude that Jesus would have said or done that? That's what being a follower of someone means - following what they would think, say, and do. If I cannot imagine Jesus doing something (without twisting Scripture), then what possible justification can there be for me to do so?

What is the right amount of risk? There is risk, no matter what. There are innocuous risks, such as leaving one's comfort zone to befriend (or even just coexist with) a Muslim - doing so runs the risk of having some of your assumptions challenged. On the extreme end, there are life-and-death risks posed by the radicalized. Of course, risks of this level are found in many corners of our lives, not just the jihadist corner. 

There are risks from little to small. What place should that play? Is avoiding risk what a follower should do? Is throwing caution to the wind what a follower should do? Jesus and the apostles certainly risked their lives at times, and certainly avoided danger at other times. We are called to be willing to give our lives for our King and for the Gospel, but how does that rightly translate to these issues? Furthermore, what risk do I end up imposing on others? No matter what you decide, you are assigning some form of risk to someone else - either to a refugee or to a neighbor or to the stability of another nation or to some other group. For the follower, though, we cannot make personal safety an idol - that cannot be our non-negotiable factor.

Blow people's minds by being humble. This addresses more of our manner than the process we use to make up our minds. Engage in disagreements about these important, complex issues with kindness. It's not easy for anyone to know what to think, and engaging in ugly exchanges is rarely the Jesus way. You're in process, others are in process, and kindness fosters that process for everyone. Blow their minds! Once it turns ugly, people dig in their heels, and positions become unnecessarily fixed. Try listening to the other person's views, ask questions, refrain from telling them what they should think, and then lay out what you're thinking. Be humble enough to be able to learn from someone else. For issues so complex, it's OK to change your mind.

In case you weren't sure, you don't know everything there is to know about this subject. You don't have all knowledge and there are angles you have not considered, yet. Without omniscience, our only choice is to assume a posture of being able to learn and ... yikes ... change.

I have opinions on most of these issues, and as I discuss them with people (not always following my own advice), I have frequently faced worthy ideas that draw me in one direction or another. That's good! These issues are too important and too complex to firmly hold conclusions without room to adapt to new information. We don't have to have firm opinions.

What we can be solid about is determining now which methods we will use to seek out those conclusions. We can be firm about the "rules of engagement" we will use to think these things through, such as the suggestions I've made here. These methods don't force one conclusion or another, but do set the parameters and how those (flexible) conclusions can be reached. Perhaps there are other rubrics even more appropriate than these.

A "Christian answer" cannot be reliably achieved apart from "Christian ways" of thinking about the question.

Of Course Water is Wet

Dear Christian, just stop it. Please.

Stop expecting non-Christians to act like Christians. They're not, and so there's no sense in expecting them to. Christians are at times everything from flabbergasted to offended at how non-Christian a non-Christian is. That's like being surprised that water is wet. Worse, there are times when the Christian then responds negatively (and ironically, in an unchristian manner) with criticisms, insults, arguments, and judgments. Not every Christian and certainly not all the time, but far more than the absolute zero that it ought to be.

First and foremost, Christians aren't always better behaved. All of us know non-Christians with a more pleasant demeanor, a more consistent lifestyle, and more respectable ethics than some Christians. So, expecting a non-Christian to act like a Christian is not always desirable. People can wave a Christian banner to promote very unchristian attitudes and ways.

Beyond that, it makes no sense at all to expect a non-Christian to talk like a Christian. Many Christians try to "tame the tongue" as Scripture teaches, and thereby have a higher standard than the common base. But what kind of logic concludes we should hold someone who doesn't embrace Scripture up to a Scriptural standard? Furthermore, Christians can end up having their own lingo that eventually becomes unintelligible to someone outside the tribe. Rather than expect others to pick up our lingo, we are the ones that need to make sure we're speaking their language. Even demanding a clerk wish you a "Merry Christmas" is demanding them to speak like your tribe does.

Neither should we expect non-Christians to have Christians thoughts and values. There's no need to claim here that these are in any way superior, or even exclusive - it is enough to say that they are characteristic. There are thoughts and values that are particularly consonant with Christianity. Expecting non-Christians to have them and share them is unreasonable. We quite often do share thoughts and values with non-Christians, but becoming critical of someone for not having them oddly enough shows a kind of inferior value!

Likewise, we cannot expect Christian actions from non-Christians. This includes lifestyles, sexuality, activities, entertainment, child-rearing, marriage, and so on. Again, Christians aren't always the best examples of these, but why are we flabbergasted or offended when a non-Christian acts like he's not a Christian? We should only be offended when a Christian acts like he's not a Christian. Of course non-Christians act like non-Christians! (Which, by the way, is not always bad!)

Christian theology says that those who are "in Christ" have the Holy Spirit at work in them, transforming them over the rest of their lives. That means that we're being made better than we each used to be, but it doesn't mean we're necessarily better than anyone else. It also means that for those who do not have the Holy Spirit at work in them, we have no basis to expect them to live as if they did.

The only way to have that kind of expectation is to have the wrong Gospel. The wrong Gospel says that you need to clean up your life and live up to a certain standard in order to be acceptable to God (and His followers). Wrong! But it's what we can communicate to non-Christians when we expect them to live up to some Christian ideal or standard. We end up preaching the wrong Gospel (and adding in judgmentalism for good measure). If you boil down criticisms of Christians to their core, we're quite often criticized for either expecting those outside the tribe to act like those inside the tribe or for acting like we're not inside the tribe, either.

The true Gospel is that because of Christ, God accepts us in our most non-Christian states. Period. Yes, He has a certain standard for His followers for speaking, thinking, valuing, and living, but He's the one who accepts us before we do, and then He's the one who transforms us to become more like His ideals.

So, dear Christian, just stop. Stop preaching the wrong Gospel by inadvertently telling people they need to make themselves good enough for you. That's not even close to the Gospel.

Proverbial Media

What if we restricted ourselves to posting on social media according to the wisdom laid out in the Book of Proverbs?

The Book of Proverbs is a collection of pithy sayings of general wisdom, most of which is agreeable to even people who think little of a life of faith. Not intended to be a strict set of do's and don'ts, it promotes general principles of wisdom that shape a life of wisdom.

Given that so much of what is posted online is unwise, including things you post and things that I post, what if we ran posts through the grid of Proverbs before hitting "Update"?

1:10 My child, if sinners try to entice you,
do not consent!

Clickbait ("you won't believe what happens next...") has the sole purpose of generating revenue for advertisers. "What kind of farm animal are you" quizzes collect your personal information. And of course, there's the enticement of X-rated sites, which actually help feed the human trafficking industry!

3:3 Do not let truth and mercy leave you;

bind them around your neck,

write them on the tablet of your heart.

Don't toss truth or mercy when you post, respond, or debate. Rather, write them on your tablet. ;-) 

3:31 Do not envy a violent man,

and do not choose to imitate any of his ways;

Social media can be some of the most violent spaces you'll inhabit in a given day, because people can be anonymous or miles away when they post.

5:15 Drink water from your own cistern

and running water from your own well.

The context of this proverb is marital fidelity. The imagery is plain enough. Emotional affairs over the Internet are still forms of drinking from another's cistern.

6:6 Go to the ant, you sluggard;

observe its ways and be wise!

7 It has no commander,

overseer, or ruler,

8 yet it prepares its food in the summer;

it gathers at the harvest what it will eat.

Log off Facebook and go to the grocery store!

9:7 Whoever corrects a mocker is asking for insult;

whoever reproves a wicked person receives abuse.

8 Do not reprove a mocker or he will hate you;

reprove a wise person and he will love you.

9 Give instruction to a wise person, and he will become wiser still;

teach a righteous person and he will add to his learning.

How many fruitless arguments have you gotten into? Why were they fruitless? In part, because the deck is stacked against Internet debates ever being fruitful - usually, one or both of the participants is a mocker, not a true debater. Those rare times when the people are wise and actually open to being instructed, however, can be quite fruitful for all.

10:12 Hatred stirs up dissension,

but love covers all transgressions.

What's your attitude? Because your words will come from your attitude. Will your attitude stir up dissension or cover someone's else's imperfections?

10:19 When words abound, transgression is inevitable,

but the one who restrains his words is wise.

More is not necessarily better. You don't have to have the last word!

11:2 When pride comes, then comes disgrace,

but with humility comes wisdom.

People who are generally humble can become annoyingly arrogant online.

12:15 The way of a fool is right in his own opinion,

but the one who listens to advice is wise.

Of course you think what you said is right. Otherwise you wouldn't have said it. You are right ... in your own opinion.

12:16 A fool’s annoyance is known at once,

but the prudent overlooks an insult.

You really don't have to respond to every verbal attack. No ... really ... you don't have to.

13:17 An unreliable messenger falls into trouble,

but a faithful envoy brings healing.

Ummm ... did you check the truth of that before you reposted? I don't care how much you agree with it ... if it's not true, then you're agreeing with a lie! And now you're spreading a rumor.

14:15 A naive person believes everything,

but the shrewd person discerns his steps.

"I saw it on the Internet, so it must be true." (Especially if it says what I already want to believe.)

14:17 A person who has a quick temper does foolish things,

Yup.

14:29 The one who is slow to anger has great understanding,

but the one who has a quick temper exalts folly.

Yup, yup.

15:1 A gentle response turns away anger,

but a harsh word stirs up wrath.

I have seen this time and time again ... find the common ground, find the positive in the other person's statement, compliment their good attitude even if you don't agree with that they said, and you'll be amazed at how much better the conversation goes.

15:4 Speech that heals is like a life-giving tree,

but a perverse tongue breaks the spirit.

Sticks and stones and words break my bones and my spirit. And yours.

15:32 The one who refuses correction despises himself,

but whoever hears reproof acquires understanding.

Wow - refusing correction is a form of despising yourself! Let that sink in (unless you despise yourself).

16:28 A perverse person spreads dissension,

and a gossip separates the closest friends.

What damage are you doing to someone else's relationships by what you say?

16:32 Better to be slow to anger than to be a mighty warrior,

and one who controls his temper is better than one who captures a city.

Wanna be a hero?

17:14 Starting a quarrel is like letting out water;

stop it before strife breaks out!

I have opened that plug in the water tank way too many times. You can't ever put that water back in through the spigot.

18:1 One who has isolated himself seeks his own desires;

he rejects all sound judgment.

This should be taped to every guy's computer screen. And perhaps all the gals', too.

18:13 The one who gives an answer before he listens -

that is his folly and his shame.

Of course, you've never done this, right?

18:21 Death and life are in the power of the tongue,

and those who love its use will eat its fruit.

Death and life. You have the power to bring both.

I could go on with the rest of the chapters, but I'm already in danger of violating 10:19.

Tyranny in Your Head

Oppression changes your brain. According to neuroscience research (see resources below for two examples), forms of oppression can physically alter the brain. Some would say that it "rewires" the brain. Our brains respond to repeated or sustained forms of oppression in order to adapt in ways that cause permanent changes. Recall that I have written in recent past about a similar phenomenon, that trauma also can cause changes in the brain that are detectable by brain scans.

The implications spur off into thousands of directions, from counseling to social justice to compassion to ministry. This is relatively new research, and I'm sure we'll be hearing much more about it. I am by no means qualified to speak authoritatively on this topic, but we do have a few people in our church who are currently learning quite a lot about it in a counseling context.

Where I'm intrigued is in the theology of fallenness. In the Fall of Man, humankind was altered. But it would be inadequate to focus on just one form of fallenness. We didn't just fall morally. We didn't just die spiritually. We didn't just lose a close relationship with God. All of this is true, but we also fell physically, including our brains. In short, we got "drain bamage." Our brains were no longer pristine, firing on all cylinders, capable of perfectly healthy decisions. "Adam? That boy ain't right in the head."

Furthermore, given that trauma and oppression further alter the brain away from health, we can cause even further physiological damage to one another's brains. By inflicting trauma, we can change another's brain. By oppressing others, we can change their brains. This means that even by lying to other people about who they are and what they are worth, we can cause negative change in their brains. If we continually tell a girl she's not valuable unless she's thin and pretty, if we continually tell the materially poor that they're just lazy, if we continually tell people God hates them (or treat them as if He did), if we continually tell people they need to behave better in order for God to accept them, we effectively kill part of their brains.

When our brains are damaged, it is harder for us to relate, succeed, behave, care for others, decide, and work. Which, in turn, only invites more lies about our worth, creating a vicious vortex of deteriorating self-identity. You can lie someone into the exact horrible thing you told him he was. This brings new depth to Jesus' words when He said that calling your brother a "fool" is like murder (Matt 5:21-26).

Salvation and restoration, then, would first be the grace to cover all the damage that has been done to us by being fallen. We believe Jesus offers exactly this covering with His own perfection. Second would be for us to fight oppression wherever we see it, which includes policing ourselves to never oppress people with our words - especially children, whose brains are developing rapidly. Denigration and performance-based acceptance are lies that kill. Third would be to reverse the damage by speaking restorative truth to others, especially about their worth in God's eyes. Fourth would be something only God can do - replace these broken, fallen, damaged bodies (including brains) with fully restored bodies. We believe this is the "blessed hope" (Titus 2:13).

Within the church, ministry must never assume that people who aren't responding to "plain truth" are stupid, lazy, or hopelessly rebellious. There is a part of everyone that cannot respond rightly to truth - we are fallen. As "ministers of reconciliation" (2 Cor 5:18), our task is to labor toward restoration. This means understanding the crippling effect that oppression and lies have on us physically. Perhaps you've seen commercials lately addressing "neuroplasticity," which employs certain mental and physical exercises that can rewire the brain toward a healthier state. Without understanding the patient process restoration requires, including restoration of a poorly wired brain, we will limit ourselves in what we hope to accomplish.

For those who know more about this than I do, I invite comments, additions, and corrections. My brain needs it.

Resources:
Allen E. Ivey and Carlos P. Zalaquett, "Neuroscience and Counseling: Central Issue for Social Justice Leaders," Journal for Social Action in Counseling and Psychology, Volume 3, Number 1, Spring 2011.

Beth Barila, Integrating Mindfulness Into Anti-Oppression Pedagogy, 2015.

My Greatest Ignorances

I don't know what it's like to be an African American. I rarely have to "read" the room when I enter, I usually don't have to wonder whether someone is responding to me based on who I am or based on my skin color. I've never had some people telling me I'm "too black" and others telling me that I'm "not black enough." Even when I've been the minority in our neighborhood in LA and in Kenya, I so infrequently fall victim to racism that I can't say that I've had to endure it. So even though I can have an opinion about racism, it's only from theory, not from experience. Therefore, let me measure my words about racism humbly.

I don't know what it's like to be a Syrian refugee. I do know what it's like to see homelessness and I do know what it's like to worry about the worst that could happen. But I don't know what it's like to go through what they are going through. And to be fair, when we're talking about that many people, we cannot say anything that would be true of every single one of them. Therefore, let me exceed my fear with a greater measure of compassion.

I don't know what's it's like to have been deeply wounded by a church or a religious leader. And so I don't have any way to understand someone's anger and bitterness toward the church. I can't tell you much about what you "ought" to do next in your life until I know more about the story of your life. I can't expect you to understand my church context if your church context is one of wounding and mistrust. Therefore, let me listen and understand your pain rather than tell you what you ought to feel.

I don't know what it's like to be financially poor. Even when I was in college living on mac and cheese with hot dogs, I wasn't poor. I had parents who would catch me if I needed it. I had a job good enough to keep the lights on, so I never got in that downward cycle of paying even more just to get the lights turned back on. I have never worried if I would have enough groceries. I never had to ask "Gas or bread?" I have never known what material poverty does to one's self-identity. Therefore, let me be more concerned about someone's self-identity than their bank balance.

I don't know what it's like to be financially rich. I've imagined it. Of course, my imagination is always optimistic. I don't know what it's like for others to feel like I'm obligated to them because I have plenty. Not really. I don't know the struggle of knowing when a nice car is too nice. Not really. I'm not constantly told I must be greedy and uncaring to have so much. I don't have people trying to build a "friendship" with me because they just want to get a large donation from me. And I don't know when giving too much actually hurts a church from all members being sacrificial givers as they ought. Therefore, again, let me be more concerned about someone's self-identity than their bank balance.

I don't know what it's like to be a representative, a senator, or a president. I don't know what it's like to make thousands unhappy by making decisions based on information that can't be made public. I've heard personal stories from a former representative who was pressured hard by his own party to compromise his personal convictions in order to gain political advantage, but I've never lived that. I have only watched this grown man reduced to tears. I really don't know what it's like to always make half of your audience mad no matter what. Therefore, let me refuse to spend more energy tearing leaders down than helping them do good things.

I don't know what it's like come from a single-parent household. It took me a long time to understand why other kids liked hanging out at our house. I thought it was me! But mostly, it was that our house was stable, peaceful, and predictable - steady and a bit mundane. I never had my lone parent necessarily absent just to pay the rent. I never had to lay my head on different pillows every few nights, or worse, never lay my head down on a pillow under the same roof as one of my parents. I never had to want a marriage completely different than my folks' had. Therefore, let me add a little of what's lacking for those who need some days that are just steady and a bit mundane.

I don't know what it's like to be divorced. Lots of people do, but I can't identify with it. I don't know what it's like to be released from an abusive relationship, and I don't know what it's like to have bad go to worse because reconciliation was unattainable. I don't know what it's like to divide time with children and struggle financially trying to pay for two households. I've never had most everything in my life defined by divorce. Therefore, let me be at least one thing in someone's life that isn't defined by divorce.

I don't know what it's like to be you. I never will. All the good, all the bad - I'll never know. And so, I'll never really know how my words, my actions, and even the looks on my face affect you. I won't ever know how your history will filter my intentions. There are times that I so very much want to tell you what to do and why, and sometimes, I even have the right answer. But I will invariably be astonished when you don't react as I would. Therefore, may I always help you be a better you and never expect you to be a better me.

Yeah, it's just a game ... however ...

How many hours did you spend on Royals baseball this year? How much money? Some of you, not so much. Others, a fair amount. I'm not being critical - I, too, spent quite a few hours and no small sum, and lately, quite a few antacids. Now, think about all the really serious Royals fans who spent far more time and money than you, and then add them all up. Then add in all the baseball fans for all these teams in the country. Then add in all the fans for all the professional sports. How many hours spent? How many billions of dollars spent? And that's just for one calendar year - how much over the last 30 years totaled together?* (Let's not even try to calculate in the world's fanbase for soccer.)

Why? Why have we as a society dedicated so much time and money for sports that we watch other people play? For a feeling! Most of us don't walk away from a game much richer. We don't get the trophies (instead, we spend even more money on t-shirts as our "trophies"). We don't get traded to better teams (as if there were any!). We do all this for a feeling. Or rather, for a set of feelings. We spend hours upon hours and buckets of money in order to feel something. I find that amazing! It's just a game, right? But I don't think it's necessarily bad.

First, it's a seven-month drama, and in this case, a drama with happy ending. There's a storyline with lots of different characters. There's conflict, not only in every game, but early in the season, with pitchers from other teams beaning our players, real conflict. Gordon gets injured and is out for a month and a half - will the team still be successful? Holland has to have arm surgery - will Davis be as good in the role of closer? We're six outs away from being eliminated in Houston - will we make it to the next round?

Then we have the life lesson of overcoming obstacles to achieve a goal. The 2015 season, especially on the heartbreak of being so close last year, is a great testament to enduring through obstacles, marching ever forward to a single goal. Management made some brilliant additions to the team in the offseason as well as midseason, each of them proving to be important for overcoming challenges that came our way.

Of course, there's a great lesson on teamwork, the various parts contributing the whole, all for a goal greater than any individual. Christian Colon gets one at bat in the World Series, and drives in the World Series winning run on a two-strike pitch. Terrance Gore, whose only job is to run fast, plays in only eight regular season games and only one postseason game, but changes the dynamic. Salvador Perez, the series MVP, didn't even get to catch the final outs, because he yielded to the speedier Dyson on the basepath. In fact, deciding an MVP was difficult because of the tremendous level of teamwork.

Plus, we know these guys (or we feel like we do). We get to know the players a little bit, their stories, their families. We celebrate because people we like were playing the game. Three players suffered the death of a parent, and we felt a little slice of those family stories. We await the imminent birth of Ben Zobrist's next child. We wait to see who Salvy will douse with water or how he will next embarrass Lorenzo Cain by posting another secret video.

One of the greatest effects was the sense of community around the city. We experienced community with people we might often disagree with on other issues: politics, how to solve racial tension, gender issues. People in the neighborhood, at work, in the store, and at the ballpark - we shared a sense of community with one another, high-fiving people we don't even know.

Sure, it's just a game. But because of this game, and especially this season, we got to feel something - we felt what we ought to feel about what truly is important. Life is a drama, and people have stories that matter. Facing and overcoming obstacles is long, hard work, but we need examples on how to do it. Through teamwork, we not only get more done, but we become better people. Getting to know who we work with is how our work becomes more than a job. And in the digital age, building community has to be more intentional than ever - baseball gave us a reminder we shouldn't be so angry with one another. All of these things that we spent so much time and money to feel through baseball are experiences we should also feel in our daily lives.

For followers of Christ, there's another lesson. Because of sports, for a moment, we are reminded how our journey in Christ will end - one day, there will be a postseason, filled with epic contests. And then after that, we are assured of victory, with a fantastic celebration. Because we know this is what the rest of this season holds for us, we can live now during the "regular season," confidently embracing the drama, striving together with teamwork to overcome obstacles, getting to truly know each other along the way in genuine community.

We should feel all those things in life. Baseball reminds us to. So, yeah, it's worth a little time and money.

* - Yes, I picked 30 years on purpose. :)

Brain Again

I wrote about the brain a couple of weeks ago. I reported a comparison between the brain scan of a child who had endured trauma and the brain scan of a child the same age who had not (what we cautiously labeled "normal"). We noted the physical changes that occur from trauma, which lead to incapacities to behave well consistently or even to receive correction normally. Then I spent time noting that even a "normal" brain is fallen, and physically incapable of right behavior or rightly responding to correction all the time. I'd like to ponder a little further on these ideas.

Our baseline is this - a brain that has been significantly damaged in some way is more clearly obvious in its diminished capacity, but a "normal" brain is also fallen and therefore physically incapable of perfectly generating right responses. This is our working assumption. Both are fallen and physically dysfunctional to some degree, but one may be more obvious than the other (or frustratingly less obvious!).

This working assumption also applies to self identity. My self identity is who I see myself to be. Perhaps I see myself as a lowlife. Perhaps I see myself as God's gift to Johnson Country. Perhaps I see myself as unlovable, unforgivable, slow-minded, awfully clever, dashing, hilarious, or socially invisible. Obviously, an accurate self identity is more healthy than an inaccurate one. A significantly inaccurate self identity leads to any number of problems: emotional, social, theological, and so on.

The brain has much to do with one's self-identity. Given our working assumption that all are "brain damaged" but some are more obvious, we are physically incapable of perfectly healthy senses of self identity. We don't have the physical capacity to be exactly correct in how we understand ourselves. And with self identities that are inaccurate to some degree, we are then prone to the problems that come from those inaccurate self identities.

Furthermore, given our fallenness (and our subsequent "brain damage"), part of our self identity can become that we're hopelessly brain damaged, spoiled goods incapable of anything worthwhile. A vicious cycle! We can begin to define ourselves by this incapacitation, accept a label as our identity, and therefore doubt we can ever grow significantly.

Related to this is that our fallen brains are damaged in their role in our beliefs. The brain is involved in what we believe and how we believe it (although not solely responsible for beliefs), and a physically damaged brain, obvious or not, contributes to wrong beliefs.

And yet it is our very beliefs, imperfect as they are, that illumine our path away from these incapacities. The Gospel says that in Christ, I have been made perfect before God. Jesus provides us with His perfection, which means that in Christ, our damaged brains are counted as perfect before God. The resulting errant behaviors, reactions, self identities, and beliefs are counted as perfect before God, too.

Even though we can't believe perfectly, this is a truth that we can believe. It's true whether or not we believe it well, but it is a truth we can believe. We can grab onto it and run with it. Our salvation doesn't depend on how well we can believe this, but we can believe it. And when we believe it, our self identity now becomes something like, I am a child of God who is credited in Christ as if I had a perfect brain which makes perfect decisions. That's a pretty good self identity! Not that we always do make perfect decisions, but that this dysfunction is not my identity. My identity is in Christ, declared perfect and empowered by the Holy Spirit, to one day be gifted with a new, glorified, unfallen brain.

This is one reason why I believe that those with severe brain damage are no less "capable" of salvation. Salvation is not the product of an adequately functioning brain, lest none of us be saved. The perfection of Christ's brain function is adequate for all who, in whatever capacity God has allowed, trust in His Son. I dare say many who suffer damage to the brain can frequently demonstrate a far greater trust than I can. 

The sufficiency of Christ is not limited by our incapacities, whether they are obvious or not. Therefore, our identities need not be anything less than "perfected in Christ no matter what."

Out of Context

"You took my comment out of context!" During any political season, we're sure to hear this excuse for something a candidate said that the opposing party made a big deal about. Most often, it seems, both sides have a point - the candidate did say something offensive, stupid, or inaccurate, and the opposing party did take the comment out of context to make it sound far worse than it actually was. One of the few things they agree on is that the fair thing to do is to take someone's comments within the context they were spoken, and then take whatever issue with it as you please (even though they rarely do so).

We have the same expectation of literature, research, and statistics. Most of us have had homework marked wrong because we quoted something out of context to better fit our point. Statistics are perhaps the easiest to take out of context, according to 3 out of 7 scientists. ;-) One thing that drives me crazy are internet posts that take some factoid out of context to make a point the statistics never did support - I don't care if I agree or disagree with your conclusion, I'm going to call you on it when I see it. It's a form of lying.

For those who study religious texts, we are particularly sensitive to context for quoting. We grieve over "teachers" who rip a verse out of Scripture to make the most unscriptural points ("I can do all things...", "If my people pray...", "Increase my borders..."). Most common, however, is taking a passage out of context to make a perfectly Scriptural point - Scripture does say that, but not in that passage you just quoted. Responsible teachers intentionally consider the contexts: literary, historical, and cultural.

We critique people who take things out of context, and we should. However, there's another contextual concern that we too often ignore. We are far too quick to take people out of context.

At a store, we see a child yell at his mother, neither of whom we know anything about, and then we draw all kinds of conclusions about the child ("how disrespectful!") and the parent ("if she'd practice discipline at home..."). We cry out when someone uses statistics out of context to draw conclusions, and yet we so easily take people out of context to draw all kinds of conclusions. What is the child's story? Does he have an emotional disorder or disease? Did he just lose his father? Is he just an obnoxious brat? What's the parent's story? Is that the child's parent at all? Has she already tried everything and is near her wit's end? Is she an addict and only hears people when they yell?

I'm not at all suggesting that everyone is innocent and we just need to understand them. Sometimes, they're in the wrong. But if we take them out of context, then we're also in the wrong for doing so. We simply cannot take someone out of context and pretend to know what their problem is or what they need. Doing so is a form of lying.

Like statistics, we must understand the context before we understand what we've seen. And for people, that most often means patient listening (or else butting out!). As any teacher would do, we need to do the "research" about the context before we dare suggest we understand the person, let alone be so bold as to conclude what they ought to do.

Use the same discipline - refuse to claim anything about the statistic, or the person, until you've understood the context it comes out of. And if you cannot determine the context, refuse to make any strong assessment at all (otherwise called "being judgmental"). If we can't do this for simple numbers, we cannot do this for complex people with complex histories and varied contexts.

Don't we wish that's what others would do unto us?

"Normal" Doesn't Mean "Correct"

Last week, I attended GRID KC, a conference on the various needs related to foster care of children. Fifty blog entries on what I learned would not suffice, and I still have much to work through. There is one point, that got my head spinning in a couple of directions.

The speaker showed brain scans of two four year olds, one who had endured severe emotional trauma and the other "normal." Emotional trauma can modify brain function in a way that is measurable by a machine! The dysfunction of the brain, by no fault of the child, hampers the child from behaving well, handling stress, and being disciplined.

When a "normal" child misbehaves and we correct or discipline her, she tends to respond with better behavior. When a child with trauma-induced brain dysfunction misbehaves, it may not be within her control to manage her behavior appropriately. Furthermore, the same correction and discipline that worked with the "normal" child may not have any chance at all to work with this child. Simply put, the child may not have the physiological mechanisms to respond appropriately to "normal" discipline. But we typically see this child as "rebellious." Mercifully, some of the brain dysfunction can be reparable.

The hampered brain has been damaged by the Fall of man. Our sin. The child was born with a fallen body (and brain), but the sins of others have caused even more damage so that the child may not be able to behave or be corrected in a healthy way.

The implications in the fostering world are obvious, since almost every child in foster care is there because of trauma. It also has implications in schools and churches, although we don't always know when a child has endured severe trauma in order to react in more productive ways. But as much as this topic deserves space, I want to focus on "normal."

The "normal" brain can respond more "normally." That's not in question. However, the "normal" brain is also damaged by the Fall. So, even a "normal" brain is incapable of consistently behaving rightly, or more to the point, behaving righteously. Furthermore, even a "normal" brain cannot always be corrected or disciplined. We are physically incapable of behaving perfectly or being corrected perfectly merely by appealing to the brain. No amount of counsel, advice, rules, or threats of consequences can make these brains work righteously all the time.

And yet, like the more obvious example of fruitlessly trying to discipline a trauma-damaged brain through "normal" correction, relying solely on discipline for any brain is not reliable. But it's what we rely on almost exclusively. And then we judge one another for not behaving or not responding to correction.

This is not to say we aren't culpable. It's to say we're not always capable. We need new, glorified bodies with new, glorified brains to behave righteously on our own. The Gospel offers us that through the coming resurrection. But before then, we need God's power in order to behave better than our brains are able and to respond to discipline better than our brains are able. The Gospel offers us that, too, through the indwelling Holy Spirit for all who believe.

So, let's continue to encourage, correct, and discipline one another, but with the knowledge that we are limited in our ability for this to work. Don't expect what physiologically can't work all the time to work all the time. But let's also lean on, pray for, and encourage the work of the Holy Spirit in one another to continue to do what we simply cannot do. Let us afford the grace to one another that we are all brain-damaged by the trauma of the Fall, and are being transformed and renewed by Christ. That is the Gospel.

Whadya Remember?

Last week, Lynne and I enjoyed a nice, simple vacation. I was asked to officiate a wedding in Columbus, GA, for a young man who grew up in the church we served from 2003 to 2010. So, we made a whole week of it - first to the Chattanooga area to spend a day with dear friends, then to Dublin, GA, where we used to live, and then on to Columbus. Two thousand miles of mountains, rivers, lakes, evergreens, kudzu, and friends.

Those who were in the youth group when we were there are now ... adults. And it's wonderful. Watching personalities emerge and define, now finding their more mature expression, with clearer heads and more significant priorities. Kids that we had bi-polar relationships with - from thoroughly enjoying to angry corrections - now more than able to relate as adults.

We also got to catch up with so many of our friends, some in their homes, some at a party, and others still at the wedding. People that we broke bread with, stayed up all night in the hospital with, went fishing with (and the subsequent fish fry), hunted with, and learned the Word with. We walked through weddings, baptisms, births, divorces, illness, death, and daily life with some very dear people.

One special visit was to the home of an older couple, James and Mary. James is quite ill and under hospice care. In the weeks leading up to our trip, there was real concern that he wouldn't still be with us by time we arrived. He was, looking frail and surviving on oxygen, but joyful. They spoke about God's goodness and how much they appreciated seeing us again. James said our visit was his best birthday present, which tells you far more about them than us. Lynne understandably left several tears there.

During all these visits, there was lots of reminiscing. Many great memories, lots of "remember that time when...?" We caught up on recent events, but we also enjoyed recalling the times we spent together, the good and the bad. Like the time we unintentionally scared the youngest kids during VBS with a life-size lion costume, turning Aslan into a scary character for some traumatized kiddos. But there was one kind of recall that never occurred, not even once. Not one person said, "Remember that one sermon where you said..."

No one talked about a single sermon - supposedly the thing I was primarily employed to do for that church. Those weren't the memories that bubbled to the top. What we did talk about was the time we spent together, both individually and as groups. That's what we hang onto most. As important as sermons and lessons and meetings are to the life of the church, the greatest impact we have on one another is not flawlessly running our programs, but twisting our busy lives into one another. That is more church than great praise songs and a moving sermon.

What you, Lynne, and I will remember together will not be how well we did church, but how well we were church. Let's continue to twist our busy lives into one another so that one day we will say, "Remember that time when ..." and it not be about what I'm employed to do.

The Gospel of Expectations

Try an experiment. Run your car completely out of gas - absolutely empty tank. Then yell at your car to "Go!" Kick it if it doesn't suddenly start going. Criticize it for not going, for misbehaving, for not acting like a car. Create a snarky meme for your car's uncarlike behavior and post it on Facebook. Complain that there are too many cars out there that don't go. "Back in my day, cars knew how to go!" Keep your kids away from this car, lest they get any ideas about becoming lazy. Blame the government, print a cleverly insulting t-shirt that makes you feel superior to the car, and tell the car that if it can get itself up and take itself to a gas station and pay for the gas itself, then it will all be OK.

So, how did that work out for you? It's ridiculous! It's kind of like Pharaoh forcing the Hebrew slaves to make brick without providing them with straw.

Now self-examine ... do you do the same thing with unbelievers by expecting them to live like believers, even though they don't have the power of the Holy Spirit within them? Do you expect "saved behavior" from unsaved people? Do you criticize the unsaved for living unsaved, for not acting like a Christ-follower? Do you keep your kids away, blame the system, post insults, or wear t-shirts that make you feel superior? Do you tell the unsaved to get themselves up and come to your church and fill themselves up, and then it will all be OK? It's just as ridiculous as yelling at a car without gas for not going anywhere!

Don't be surprised that unsaved people act unsaved. Don't be shocked, bewildered, overwhelmed, or disappointed. Don't judge ... no matter what. Of course unsaved people live like unsaved people. The only people who deserve criticism are the saved people who lived as if they are unsaved. It is Jesus who transforms us and the Holy Spirit who changes how we live, not us. Therefore, to criticize an unsaved person for living like an unsaved person is to tell them that the Gospel is about cleaning up your own act. That brings as much hope as telling a car to fill itself up or telling slaves to make bricks without straw.

Don't lie about the Gospel by wagging your finger at the unsaved. Don't in any way suggest Jesus came so that they could fix their own lives and live like Christ without new birth or the indwelling Holy Spirit. Don't criticize the prostitute or the drug addict for not having enough character to remain pure and clean. Save your criticism for those Jesus criticized - the finger-wagging hypocrites. The sinner's sin is still sin ... it's no less sin, and it's fair to call it "sin." But that's what sinners do, so don't act so surprised or offended.

And now we have freedom! Once we shed ourselves from the Gospel of Fix-yourselves-up, now it is safe to listen to and love people before they live like Jesus. We have the Gospel of Jesus-transforms-us.

By the way, we don't fully live like Jesus, either.

An Experiment in Prayer

I have heard dozens of teachings on "the Lord's Prayer" (also called "the Model Prayer") found in Matthew 6:6-13. This is in the middle of the Sermon on the Mount, in a sequence of statements in which Jesus says "you have heard" some teaching from the Old Testament or the Pharisees, "but I say to you" something even more demanding for righteousness. In this particular paragraph, He's teaching about prayer. He then tells them to pray "this way," and begins the familiar prayer, "Our Father in heaven, may your name be honored..." Or perhaps your more familiar with a different translation, "Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed by Thy name..."

In these dozens of teachings, I heard very careful (and accurate) analyses of each phrase and how we ought to pray that way, because Jesus said, "Pray this way." I value all the teaching I've received on this.

But I want to add a different angle to the mix, not to replace the good teaching, but to supplement it. Given that Jesus is continually discipling His followers to form them into people who resemble Him well, we can assume He is doing this formation as He teaches us to pray. So, in this model prayer, He's not only telling us how to approach God in prayer, but He's also trying to form us into a particular kind of people. Through praying, He wants us to be changed. He gives us prayer not only as a way to dialog with God, but also as a means to be discipled into Christlikeness.

So, let's look at the Model Prayer in terms of what Jesus wants us to become, and then look at how it might affect praying for something specific. For our purposes, I choose a troubled relationship to pray about as an example.

Fearing (Our Father in heaven, may your name be honored,)

God wants us to be fearing, to be people who fear, honor, and respect God with a sense of awe. This opening to the prayer is not instruction on how to "butter up" God for your requests, but to be a particular kind of person, approaching Him in prayer with a particular attitude and self-awareness.

In the example of praying about a strained relationship, I might pray, "Father, may the way I approach this relationship bring you honor. May our friendship be worthy of Your awesome and mighty name. Make me to be a person who brings honor to You with my friendships." This is a very different prayer than, "Lord, change this person" or "Father, help me to be more tolerant of this jerk."

Missional (may your kingdom come,)

God wants us to be missional, to have His Kingdom be our life goal, our every aspiration. He wants us to carry out the Great Commission of making disciples of all nations. He wants us to use our time, talents, and treasures for the good of His Kingdom, to live here and now based on the Kingdom's values, and to bring tangible elements of the Kingdom to those around us - for His Kingdom to manifest in part now and then to come in full later.

Therefore, I might pray, "Lord, my relationship right now is not running according to the character of your Kingdom. May your Kingdom come into this relationship, and may the two of us collaborate to advance Your Kingdom. May our relationship now be just like it will be when Your Kingdom has fully arrived." This is more immediate than praying that the end of time would come soon so that the Kingdom would be fully established, and then I don't have to suffer this person's annoying behavior any longer!

Submissive (may your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.)

God wants us to be submissive, to surrender our will to His. Jesus did this beautifully in the Garden of Gethsemane just before He was crucified by praying, "Not my will, but Yours be done."

I could pray, "Lord, I'm not really submissive to you right now in my relationship with so-and-so. Regardless of this person's problems, I'm not really pulling for your will in this - I want mine. Change me to be eager for Your will in this relationship. I surrender ... I want to be a fully surrendered person, even in this." Wow - this one hurts when praying about a relationship!

Dependent (Give us today our daily bread,)

God wants us to be dependent, which is brilliantly captured with the idea of daily bread - the stuff I need to get through just one day. And then the next day, I'll depend on God some more. This is the kind of person God wants us to be.

So, my prayer changes. "Father, I have been relying on myself and on my fleshly strength, and worse, I have been pursuing what my selfishness wants in this relationship. You want me to rely on You for this relationship, for You to give me the love, the patience, and the attitude. I need You for this relationship to be healthy. Help me to love well. I depend on You for this relationship. Let me walk dependently in all my relationships."

Free (and forgive us our debts, as we ourselves have forgiven our debtors.)

God wants us to be free - free from our sins ("debts") through forgiveness, but also free from the sins against us (by our "debtors") through forgiving them. Only through forgiveness that we first receive and then grant can we be truly free people.

Then I should pray, "Lord, the relationship between You and me is based on forgiveness. In this case, it's all You forgiving me. My relationship with this other person will only be to Your pleasure through the same forgiveness. But in this case, that's each of us forgiving the other. Help me to be changed by Your forgiveness, to grant forgiveness freely to the other, and even to receive the forgiveness that the other offers me. Help me to be a forgiving kind of friend always."

Holy (And do not lead us into temptation,)

God wants us to be holy, to avoid sin and to escape the temptations to enter into sin. His forgiveness makes us holy through the blood of Christ, but holy living on a daily basis as our practice requires us to change our practices, too. In the Model Prayer, Jesus instructs us to pray for God to help us be holy.

So, I would pray, "Father, in this relationship, I have impure, hurtful, judgmental, and sometimes hateful thoughts. Lead me away from that, not just to have a better relationship, but because of who You want me to be in this relationship - a person who lives according to holiness, even in my friendships."

Rescued (but deliver us from the evil one.)
Finally, God wants us to be rescued (which is what deliver means in this verse). In other words, He wants us to live knowing that He rescued us from ourselves, and so we are a perpetually rescued people, in God's blessings only because of his mercy to rescue us. It's the blood of Jesus that rescued us, so every breath we take was purchased by the rescuing blood. We have an enemy who opposes us because we follow Christ - we have been rescued from him, but also need daily rescue from his continued attacks. We live perpetually with a rescued identity, which should keep us humble.

Therefore, my prayer might be, "Lord, I need rescue in this relationship. Satan wants to have us at each others' throats, and frankly, I've been pretty accommodating. I need rescue from my anger and my desire to 'even the score' with this person. But I have been rescued by Christ, and I also need rescue in this moment. Help me to always live out all my relationships as a rescued one."

# # #

This is not radically different from other teachings we've received, and I would be worried if it was. It is, rather, a different entry point into the same model prayer - to focus the ideas of this prayer onto who God wants me to be, to see the characteristics Jesus is developing in us by praying as He prayed and turning those characteristics into the heart of prayer.

So, I'm conducting a little experiment for a while. Not forever. I'm not saying that this is the way for me to pray for the rest of my life. But I'm going to experiment until the experiment runs dry by intentionally praying along these lines. Already I've seen some barriers broken in my prayer life and in my daily life, simply because I'm praying in a different way. I'm eager to see how the experiment goes.

For this experiment, I've printed out the following list just to remind me. You might print this out and stick it in your Bible and guide your prayers through this for a while. Experiment some yourself.

God wants us to be:

Fearing (Our Father in heaven, may your name be honored,)
Missional (may your kingdom come,)
Submissive (may your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.)
Dependent (Give us today our daily bread,)
Free (and forgive us our debts, as we ourselves have forgiven our debtors.)
Holy (And do not lead us into temptation,)
Rescued (but deliver us from the evil one.)

It's a Coverup!

I apologize upfront for a somewhat morbid illustration, but please indulge me because I think it makes the point well.

Imagine your child comes to you and has wounds on his or her face. There was an accident on a bicycle and then a fall into a rock. As a result, some chipped teeth, a black eye, a cut on the cheek flowing blood, and some swelling. So you, being the good parent that you are, apply makeup with expert care to cover up the wounds. In fact, you do an amazingly good job of it - hardly anyone will notice.

Ridiculous? Of course it is. No good parent would do this. A good parent would take the child to the right doctors to get wounds treated, teeth repaired, and so on. No amount of makeup, regardless of how good, will make the child well. And your concern as a parent is your child's wellness. If the child asked you to do nothing more than apply makeup, you would still go to the doctor because of your commitment to that wellness - you want the child's health to be transformed.

When we go to our heavenly Father with our wounds, our hurts, our sin, our addictions, our anger, our unforgiveness, our jealousy, and our judgmentalism, do we ask Him to just apply makeup so that hardly anyone will notice? Do we ask Him for every kind of "fix" except transformation? Do we ask Him to take away the bad consequences, to take away the bad emotions, and even to take away the bad behavior without asking Him to heal us and transform us?

In Christ, we have been transformed. But also in Christ, we still need to be transformed. There is still an abundance of ways we need to be healed and changed. Our attitudes still need to be transformed, our thoughts still need to be transformed, our words still need to be transformed, our money management still needs to be transformed, our prayer life, our family life, our work habits, our ethics and morals, every corner of life - all of it still needs to be completed in our transformation.

Then why do we ask God to just apply a little more makeup?

In the Old Testament, they had the "Day of Atonement" (Lev 16), called "Yom Kippur" in Hebrew. "Kippur" means "to cover," and was also the name of the lid to the ark of the covenant - the "cover." That's what the OT sacrifice did - it covered sins, but it didn't transform souls. That's what makeup does. And that sometimes what we ask God to do.

Jesus came and offered to transform us. To heal us. Not to cover it all up, but to take it all on Himself and then transform us.

When you come to the Lord in prayer about your brokenness, your sin, your need for healing, pay attention to what you say. Listen to yourself. If you are stopping short of asking to be truly transformed, go deeper in prayer. Keep going deeper until the guttural cry of your heart is, "Father, covering this up is not enough! Not this time! I need to be transformed!"

We would never just slap makeup on our children's serious wounds. May we be so insistent with our own souls.

Watching My Not-Dadd

A lot of you know that my father has been in the hospital and then in residential physical rehab for more than a week. I have appreciated the well-wishes, prayers, and questions on Dadd's behalf. Yup ... "Dadd." We call him "Dadd" and my mother "Momm." It comes from the way he insists on spelling his nickname, "Budd."

His anesthesia is taking a long time to leave his system, while he is also being given some strong pain meds. The combination of the two means that he has not been able to be himself cognitively. It looked like him, but it wasn't him - not the man we know. The foreign substances in his system caused him to manifest in a completely different way than the man who insists on two d's in his nickname.

While he has been in this state, I could have chosen to treat him according to how he manifest himself to be. Or, I could treat him according to who I know him to be - I could just be patient and wait for him to "show up" again.

His body, like his mind, has had it's struggles. As we age, we just don't bounce back from major surgery as quickly. So, I also watched Dadd struggle physically. But my Dadd's body is not my Dadd. When his body is weak or broken, that doesn't mean he is weak or broken as a person. When his fingers aren't as nimble as normal, that doesn't mean he's less of a person. These are just how his body manifests itself under the circumstances.

I could choose to treat him according to how his body is doing, so that when his body betrays him, I treat him as less of a person. Or I can choose to treat him as who I know him to be. I could just be patient and wait for his body to heal (but even then, I know that age hounds each of our bodies).

In any given week, I see several people say and do things that are not according to who I know them to be. They are bright, decent people with high moral standards, but manifested themselves in ways that were not rational, good, right, clear, or moral. No one is always good and kind, but we can also tell when someone's behavior is worse than their character, when they are not being themselves.

I could choose to treat them according to their behavior as if that's who they are. Or I can treat them according to who they really are - imperfect but decent people. I can be patient to wait for them to "show up."

We are fallen. Because of our refusal to completely be and do as God desires, we are fallen. We have fallen minds, fallen bodies, and even fallen situations. Fallenness affects our behavior, thoughts, and words - how we manifest ourselves. We are still responsible for our actions, but our fallenness means that we can't even behave as good as our fallen selves are, let alone perfection. Just like my Dadd's mind and body during his recovery.

I believe that only in Christ will we ever be transformed into our full capacities as human beings, but I also think many would agree that we all have sinned and fall short of the full capacity of man, not to mention short of the glory of God. Even our best behavior is fallen, and our best behavior is rare.

I can choose to treat people only by how they manifest themselves. Certainly, we do respond to people according to how they are presently behaving - liars should not be trusted, thieves should be jailed, and gossips should be quieted. But I can choose to limit myself to treating them according to only how they manifest. Or I can choose to treat people according to their full capacity ... even though they never reach it. I can treat people more according to who God can make them to be. How I treat them is my choice to make.

I chose not to treat my Dadd according to his hampered capacities (although I did have to accommodate them), but for who I know him to be. I chose the path of patience. I want to consistently choose the same for others.

Peace in the Pieces

Life has pieces. Sometimes the pieces are all over the place, and sometimes the pieces are in fairly decent order. Sometimes the pieces seem to form a recognizable pattern, and sometimes they look totally random. Some pieces have rounded, harmless edges, and some pieces are dangerously sharp without mercy. But always pieces.

The humanist goal, then, would be to hold your pieces together. It's your job and yours alone to hold them together. Whoever does the best job of holding them together wins. Those who hold the pieces together well are the examples to follow, the inspiring stories, the stuff of legends. We particularly love the stories of those who had the most jagged pieces and then figured out how to hold them together with excellence. Indeed, there is much to commend, here, but one way to look at humanism is in terms of it's goal of holding the pieces together well.

The goal of religion, then, is to hold your sanctified pieces together. Religion is a baptized humanism, because it's your job and yours alone to hold those religious pieces together. Whoever does the best job of holding them together wins a golden crown, or something. The religious folks love to hold up such people as the examples and the inspiring stories, especially those who started with the most jagged pieces.

One slice of the religious community is the word-faith folks, otherwise known as the "prosperity gospel" or "name it and claim it." Their goal is for God to hold your pieces together so that you will win the same game as the humanists. As humble and righteous as it may sound that God is the one holding those pieces together, it still comes down to the same goal: to win by having your pieces held together well.

Jesus doesn't play these games. Jesus doesn't exist to hold these pieces together for you. He didn't come to earth to pick up your pieces, rearrange them, and then give you something prettier than what you started with. Rather, He says, "Your pieces are broken. I will dwell among them with you. Dwell with me among them, too. Eventually, I will replace them." Yes, he does clean some of them up and hold them together for us. Yes, we are more able to hold some of them together because of Him. But it's not the goal to hold those pieces together. That's the difference.

We dwell among broken pieces, and denying that truth leads to all kinds of false plans to reach false goals. His goal in our lives is not better management of the pieces, but rescue from them and full restoration. His method is to dwell in the broken pieces with us (for now), using those pieces as props in order to renew us. His goal for us is not better pieces, but to be a renewed people. In fact, He chose to take on broken pieces when He took on a fully human nature in the Incarnation to rescue us.

Since we will always have the pieces in this world, we can either deny the pieces or dwell in them with the One who chose brokenness with us. We will be renewed only by dwelling with Him there (for now).

Your pieces right now may seem overwhelming, and I have no intention of minimizing the anguish they cause. Quite the contrary - I'm embracing that anguish. The anguish is the intensity from which Jesus can rescue, restore, and renew. There is peace in the pieces.

"Stay in the Shade!"

Drinking a shake at McDonald's in the urban core, not a common habit of mine, became a vivid reminder for me last week about our posture before those around us.

My goal was to read. I had time between appointments, which I intended to spend by catching up on a reading assignment for an upcoming conference. Successful reading for me requires either silence or a steady background of noise. Instead, I got alternating waves of the shouts and whispers commonly heard in the core - bursts of laughter, exchanges across the dining room, advice, criticism, and all manners of life lived out loud, interrupted by pockets of nothingness.

The woman at the counter trying to get the attention of the worker, whose back was turned, because she needed a tray for the drinks since she was walking home to her son and her mother. The job applicant's boyfriend jawing about when he used to work in this restaurant years ago and the people he used to know. The older couple, he in suspenders and she in a wheelchair, in loud whispers recollecting faceless names. The lady with the wide hat three tables away talking to me about the weather.

People's lives lived out loud, louder than I'm accustomed to. Details of their lives I didn't ask for, and didn't really want to know. "I don't care!" I wanted to shout. I didn't. Not really. "I. Don't. Care!!! So stop telling me, and everyone, about the details of your life that we have no business knowing."

The lady in the wide hat told me it was warm outside. Actually, it was cooler than it had been, and was quite pleasant. So I said something stupid: "Actually, it's not that bad out there today, for August." She insisted it was hot, and I kind of blew it off. I could have proved her wrong with the temperature and humidity data if I wanted to.

Here's what I missed: She had been walking all morning because her daughter failed to pick her up, and she was about to walk a couple miles at two in the afternoon to her son's job so that he could drive her home. She was right, and I was wrong - it was hot that day ... for anyone who had to walk for miles during the hottest part of the day. That yesterday was a more typical August day was irrelevant. It was easy for me to say it wasn't that hot because I had so bravely walked from my air conditioned car for the ten seconds it took to get into the air conditioned McDonald's so that I could buy myself a cold shake.

I was wrong because I didn't listen. I had the data to prove my argument, sure, but I never listened. I didn't want to because I. Didn't. Care. She had told me earlier about walking, about her life in that moment, just like everyone else in the restaurant had been doing so loudly. Unlike what I'm accustomed to, people were freely and loudly sharing their lives. And I wasn't listening or caring.

The woman told me something about her life: she had to walk because her daughter continually runs late, she has a son, he has a job (I even know which furniture store) and a car, he's kind enough to give her rides, and she had a warm walk ahead of her because she wants to get home. Her hat is wide because she regularly walks for miles in the sun. The cup tray lady has a son and a mother living in her home, which obviously is nearby enough to be within walking distance, and she was bringing them something cool to drink. Suspenders man gently cares for his wheelchair-bound wife. Job applicant boyfriend remembers his coworkers and is doing what he can so his girlfriend can find work, too. He had spent the last two years in Arizona and just came back to KC in May in order to work.

I was right on the statistics, but wrong on a person's real, daily life because I didn't listen. I was in a place where life's details are shared freely, people telling me about themselves, and I acted like I was in the quiet, "polite" place where you talk softly about coffee flavors or how good your seats were last night at the game or you don't say anything at all.

I'm not suggesting that everyone should share their lives more openly and with more volume. I am suggesting that we tune our ears off of our own frequencies and onto the frequency of those who are speaking. I could argue the effects of relative humidity (listening to her, but tuned to my frequency) or I could be part of this woman's distress (listening to her, tuned to her frequency). How hot I thought it was didn't change the walk she had ahead of her, and it sure didn't help her get home.

As if to salvage myself, I did muster a "stay in the shade" as she collected herself to leave. I had heard her, a least a little, and I entered into her experience, at least a little.

We're Fixers Because We're Pharisees

In the church, we love to "fix" things. A problem comes up, we immediately try to fix it. Someone expresses a spiritual doubt, we immediately try to fix it. A couple gets into a spat, we try to fix it ... and especially right away. A child does something disrespectful, and we try to fix it, no matter whose kid he or she is. Our elders often talk about their own tendency to want to, and in some cases attempt to, fix almost every situation that comes our way.

Part of this tendency is well-motivated. We have a vision for how things ought to be, we see things that aren't as they ought to be, we don't want to be callous and ignore the problem as if we didn't care, and so we get right on the task of fixing. On rare occasions, we have what it takes to "fix" something, but in many cases, we don't really. We can't really fix a child's misbehavior. We can regulate it. We can induce guilt or shame because of it. But most of the time we can't get to the core issue that manifested itself in a behavior we deemed inappropriate. But we want to fix it! We're fixers!

I was talking this over with our Lifestyle Discipleship Coach, Jimmy. As we talked this out, another strain of conversation we'd been having collided with this one. We are Pharisees. We are Pharisees because we judge others on our righteousness scale. We often ignore the idea that we're Pharisees because we don't hold to same outrageous rules the Pharisees in the Bible had. We don't have rules like that, so we must not be like them. But we are.

We constantly judge people. I'm not just talking about discernment, where we rightly and soberly assess sin as sin. I'm talking about judging. We see what people do, and we go far beyond discernment right into internally declaring them unrighteous. What they did was wrong and that determines how I should respond to them. I will criticize them, think less of them, and mentally categorize them as people "who need help." Often, my help. They need fixin'! And so, I try to fix them.

That's what Pharisees did. They tried to fix people with their rules. We try to fix them with rules, correction, "advice," arguments, and meddling. Their behavior is distasteful to us, and in order to get distasteful things away from us, we fix. We become very self-centered in fixing others - trying to manipulate their lives so that we don't have to endure something we don't like. We are far more like Pharisees than we care to admit. And we're fixers because we're Pharisees.

The alternative is not that we should pull away and be uninvolved. Rather, we should commit to not fix them, but be with them in the mess and draw them to the only One who can fix anything about any one of us. The behavior is only a manifestation of something far deeper, and although man can help with many issues, ultimately only God can fulfill the deepest needs of the human soul. We can offer counsel and share what we've learned from experience. We can educate and encourage. We can do things that actually do help. But we can't "fix," and to try to fix is to point them away from the only One who can.

Now, when I read what Jesus said about removing the plank from our own eye before removing the speck from our brother's eye, I realize how brilliant Jesus is. Removing that speck is fixing, and you have plenty of fixing you need done before you ever think about fixing someone else.

There. I hope I fixed this situation.

And I would be guilty of my own rant if I stopped here.

Our tendency to fix, our Pharisaism, is itself something I can't fix in you or you fix in me. The Pharisee's rules and our tendency to fix are both rooted in unbelief that God actually does transform those who come to Him. Because we don't trust Him to do so, we make rules or try to fix. Our first step is to trust that He will. If anything needs fixin', it's our tendency to disbelieve that God transforms people in Christ.