Last week in Chicago, I was sitting at lunch next to a man who's been a pastor almost as long as I've been alive. He was telling the story of his upbringing and his father's business near Springfield, MO. As he was telling his story, he casually used a phrase that was perhaps more insightful than he intended. His father was a shopowner of a small mom-and-pop operation, selling all kinds of household goods. My soft-spoken lunch companion explained, "That was in the days before Walmart."
He didn't mean anything negative against Walmart, and neither do I with this article. He was just explaining the environment of his dad's business. For better or worse, the introduction of stores like Walmart changed that environment drastically. That was back then in the days before Walmart. We are now in the days after Walmart.
Not to pick on Walmart in particular, but he had identified a turning point in our society's history. We could call it a number of things and debate about the exact time and place, and we could use a different example other than Walmart. But using Walmart as our example, we can divide our history into "BW" ("before Walmart") and "AW" ("after Walmart"). His father's shop was active in business, for example, in the year 20 BW. I was born in the year 2 AW. I graduated high school in the year 17 AW. We're now in the year 54 AW.
Back in the BW days, mom-and-pop stores were more the norm. You knew the shopowners, and they knew you. There was not another shop quite like this one anywhere else, and it was your favorite shop of its kind. When you bought your goods, it was always the same clerk, and you know the names of everyone in that clerk's family. Sure, there were Sears and Roebuck and Montgomery Wards, too, but they were not necessarily the default stores to go to, and they were often too long of a drive away to just get a toaster.
Now, in the AW days, mom-and-pop stores are more the exception than the norm. Our default is to go to national chain stores, which all look alike and you're checked out by a different clerk almost every time. No one knows your name (or if they do, it's a sign you shop too much!). Depersonalized, probably somewhat cheaper, more selections, and transactional instead of relational.
It's not just our stores - this is more and more our whole society. Education, business, shopping, sports, even church. Transactional instead of relational. We don't go to the store to buy something from someone ... we just go to the store to buy something. Period.
I don't harken for "the good ol' days." I don't want to turn back the clock. But I first just note the sociological significance of "BW" and "AW." Our societal history is bifurcated by institutionalization becoming the norm in every corner of our lives. Second, I note the onus this puts on us to keep life relational. For things to be relational, we must be more intentional.
When I shop, for example, as much as my introverted nature wants to use the automated checkout, I always find a real live clerk, even if I have to wait longer. I try to pick a clerk I've seen before, and I always try to say something to them that has nothing to do with me getting the stuff that I want to buy. I try to favor the mom-and-pop stores, restaurants, and coffeeshops, although I'm not militant about this at all.
I want to remember that people have work and that's important to them. They don't exist for me to get more stuff. They live and breathe and have families. They have joys and stresses. They have bills to pay. Often, they are working during my free time ... which means they can't go out for dinner or go to the movies during the typical times. They deal with ungrateful customers every day. They are criticized for things that aren't even their fault. They are clerks, managers, servers, number crunchers, students, experts about tools or paint or nutrition or health, parents, children, married, single, and most importantly, people who bear the image of God. They have honorable work to do. I can treat them transactionally or relationally. It's my choice.
For those who work for a national chain, I have nothing against you, you're doing nothing wrong, and I'll see you at your work often enough, too. You are not an institution no matter where you work. And you can make your domain more relational than transactional, too. In fact, we need you to.
We live in the "AW" period of history. It will never be "BW" again. How shall we then live?
Monday, June 27, 2016
Monday, June 20, 2016
How to respond?
Yet another one. Perhaps one of the most complex ones, at that. A mass shooting that involves religio-political rhetoric and the LGBTQ community - guns, religion, politics, and sexual orientation. The issues are so turned into each other that the tired, knee-jerk, simplistic rhetoric we're accustomed to now morphs old friends into foes and forges old foes into collaborators. The traditional slogans are exposed as hollow because they suddenly become self-defeating. Politicians didn't know what to say without angering half of their base. The game changed. No longer can you be pro-this without now being pro-that ... but you used to be anti-that.
So how should we respond as followers of Christ? Which axis of the four do we navigate to find our position?
A follower of Christ follows by doing as Christ would do. So our primary axis must be the one he would choose. We can have a secondary axis to defend respectfully, but the primary, controlling axis should be what he would choose. That's what it means to follow him.
I think it's clear he would not choose guns or politics as the primary axis. It's a pretty good argument, too, that sexual orientation would not be his primary one, based on how grace-filled he was when dealing with people whose sexual practices did not match his teachings. So, would he choose religion as his primary axis? In his Jewish context, they were surrounded by, ruled by, and subjected to pagan religion (polytheism and imperial worship, most dominantly). But we don't see Jesus picking fights about religion (except in-house debates among the Jews). So, that doesn't seem to be his primary axis, either.
Where does that leave his followers in the wake of Orlando's tragedy?
The primary things Jesus cared about were the image of God (imago Dei) that gives us value, the mission of God (missio Dei) that drove his purpose, and the greater story of Creation, Fall, Redemption, and Restoration. He was never not about these things, because all these things lead to his Father's glorification.
Things as horrible as what happened in Orlando happened in and around him, too. And more importantly, they happened to him. And yet, he never hated. He never feared. He never deterred from his path, and in fact, his path took him directly into his own massacre - a massacre filled with weapons (whips, not guns), religion (false charges of blasphemy), politics (Pilate as representative of Rome), and bigotry. The Cross event was worse than Orlando's events, as horrible as they were, because of the weight he bore. And just as it was about to reach its worst, he cried out for his Father to forgive them, because they really didn't understand the significance of what they were doing. That's his axis.
Our primary axis must be that of the crucified and risen Christ. Everyone, which means people on both ends of each axis, the victims, their friends and families, even the shooter's family ... even the shooter ... is someone Jesus endured the Cross for - because of the imago Dei in them and because of the missio Dei given to him. He endured this in order to give us the story of Creation, Fall, Redemption, and Restoration.
When our reactions to these events are controlled by this axis, we continue to tell that same story.
So how should we respond as followers of Christ? Which axis of the four do we navigate to find our position?
A follower of Christ follows by doing as Christ would do. So our primary axis must be the one he would choose. We can have a secondary axis to defend respectfully, but the primary, controlling axis should be what he would choose. That's what it means to follow him.
I think it's clear he would not choose guns or politics as the primary axis. It's a pretty good argument, too, that sexual orientation would not be his primary one, based on how grace-filled he was when dealing with people whose sexual practices did not match his teachings. So, would he choose religion as his primary axis? In his Jewish context, they were surrounded by, ruled by, and subjected to pagan religion (polytheism and imperial worship, most dominantly). But we don't see Jesus picking fights about religion (except in-house debates among the Jews). So, that doesn't seem to be his primary axis, either.
Where does that leave his followers in the wake of Orlando's tragedy?
The primary things Jesus cared about were the image of God (imago Dei) that gives us value, the mission of God (missio Dei) that drove his purpose, and the greater story of Creation, Fall, Redemption, and Restoration. He was never not about these things, because all these things lead to his Father's glorification.
Things as horrible as what happened in Orlando happened in and around him, too. And more importantly, they happened to him. And yet, he never hated. He never feared. He never deterred from his path, and in fact, his path took him directly into his own massacre - a massacre filled with weapons (whips, not guns), religion (false charges of blasphemy), politics (Pilate as representative of Rome), and bigotry. The Cross event was worse than Orlando's events, as horrible as they were, because of the weight he bore. And just as it was about to reach its worst, he cried out for his Father to forgive them, because they really didn't understand the significance of what they were doing. That's his axis.
Our primary axis must be that of the crucified and risen Christ. Everyone, which means people on both ends of each axis, the victims, their friends and families, even the shooter's family ... even the shooter ... is someone Jesus endured the Cross for - because of the imago Dei in them and because of the missio Dei given to him. He endured this in order to give us the story of Creation, Fall, Redemption, and Restoration.
When our reactions to these events are controlled by this axis, we continue to tell that same story.
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
Personality Pollution
National Geographic reported last week that 80% of people living in the US cannot see the Milky Way galaxy at night. Because of light pollution (lights shining brightly enough at night to prevent us from seeing the night sky well), 80% of our population cannot see a structure of over 200 billion stars spanning 120,00 light years across. It's not that you can't see it in 80% of our geography, but where the population concentrates, so does light pollution, hiding 200 billion stars from nearly all of us.
Lamenting light pollution is not my purpose. Rather, I want to posit the question of what this is doing to our personalities.
Depending on when and where you grew up, you may have been able to enjoy laying on your front lawn or on the hood of a car, staring up at the night sky, and seeing a dark sky filled with stars. Which one is the North Star again? Oh, there it is! There's the Big Dipper, and that one is the Little Dipper. Can you find Orion? And sooooo many!
Never in my life have a I seen as many stars in the sky as I have out in the Wachara village in Western Kenya. No light pollution at all, and a sky literally filled with stars. I tried to get a picture, but didn't have the right equipment (so I'll post a picture from the Internet capturing what I was able see with just the naked eye):
The other thing we did while lying on the hood of the car staring at the stars was ponder our existence. How vast the universe! How small I am. How great is the Creator! How amazing that the One who made this would take any notice of little ol' me. I'm not as important as I thought. I fit into a tiny timeslice of a much larger reality, a much grander narrative. I'm nothing, but now I'm something because the Creator knows my name. The stars in the sky gave us a platform to consider the significance and meaning of our own existence. And we did this as kids.
The vast ocean and foreboding mountains can spur these thoughts, too, but even they are itty bitty dots compared to that sky! Nothing else we can see with our own eyes exposes our minuscule existence like the stars at night.
But what if you never get to see them, like 80% of the people in America today? What if you aren't reminded almost every night of every summer that you're nothing because of Creation and that you're something because of the Creator? What happens to your view of self, your view of the world, your view of Creation, and your view of the Creator if you never get to see his biggest masterpiece? What happens to your ego, your sense of purpose, your idea of significance, and your part in the narrative? Do you even see at all that there is a narrative? Light pollution will only increase, driving us well above 80% - what will be the increasing effect on our personalities?
The Bible uses "the stars in the sky" to refer to the vastness of other things. But if you've never really seen the vastness of the stars, can you even read these passages accurately? This phrase is intended to make your jaw drop, but if your jaw has never dropped at the sky, you're more likely to be ho hum than stunned when you read.
What will we do? Our Creator has put on display for us a stunning view of who we are and who we are not, but we've blinded ourselves from seeing it. And our children will see it even less, and perhaps be hampered from struggling to see how they fit into a vast universe. Unless we bundle them up and take them to see what only 20% of Americans can see on any given night.
Depending on when and where you grew up, you may have been able to enjoy laying on your front lawn or on the hood of a car, staring up at the night sky, and seeing a dark sky filled with stars. Which one is the North Star again? Oh, there it is! There's the Big Dipper, and that one is the Little Dipper. Can you find Orion? And sooooo many!
Never in my life have a I seen as many stars in the sky as I have out in the Wachara village in Western Kenya. No light pollution at all, and a sky literally filled with stars. I tried to get a picture, but didn't have the right equipment (so I'll post a picture from the Internet capturing what I was able see with just the naked eye):
The other thing we did while lying on the hood of the car staring at the stars was ponder our existence. How vast the universe! How small I am. How great is the Creator! How amazing that the One who made this would take any notice of little ol' me. I'm not as important as I thought. I fit into a tiny timeslice of a much larger reality, a much grander narrative. I'm nothing, but now I'm something because the Creator knows my name. The stars in the sky gave us a platform to consider the significance and meaning of our own existence. And we did this as kids.
The vast ocean and foreboding mountains can spur these thoughts, too, but even they are itty bitty dots compared to that sky! Nothing else we can see with our own eyes exposes our minuscule existence like the stars at night.
But what if you never get to see them, like 80% of the people in America today? What if you aren't reminded almost every night of every summer that you're nothing because of Creation and that you're something because of the Creator? What happens to your view of self, your view of the world, your view of Creation, and your view of the Creator if you never get to see his biggest masterpiece? What happens to your ego, your sense of purpose, your idea of significance, and your part in the narrative? Do you even see at all that there is a narrative? Light pollution will only increase, driving us well above 80% - what will be the increasing effect on our personalities?
The Bible uses "the stars in the sky" to refer to the vastness of other things. But if you've never really seen the vastness of the stars, can you even read these passages accurately? This phrase is intended to make your jaw drop, but if your jaw has never dropped at the sky, you're more likely to be ho hum than stunned when you read.
Tuesday, June 7, 2016
The God of the Bad Times
The Royals were on a great winning streak ... 6 in a row, and almost every game for a couple of weeks. Ten games in a row with 10 hits or more. Even with three All Star players injured, they were winning. They had one of the greatest 9th inning comebacks I've ever seen, or likely will ever see again. And then the bottom fell out, losing 5 in a row, with very few hits and a paltry sum of runs. Elation and heartbreak. Everything's going great, and then nothing, and I mean nothing, goes right. There was even a freak throw by an infielder that was supposed to go to first base, but went almost straight down to nail Merrifield on the funny bone. That ball could have gone anywhere, but it just had to hit one of our most productive players on that part of the elbow.
Some feel this way about our nation's history. Things were going along pretty well for a while, with "win" after "win" in almost every arena. And then seemingly in the blink of an eye, the bottom fell out and nothing seems to be going in a good direction. The economy is suffering, good jobs are much harder to find, we have one of the weirdest political seasons in our history, and we're getting into violent disagreements over who gets to use which toidy.
It's easy to feel like God's in control when your home team is "winning," whether that's your favorite sports team, your company, your nation, or even the people of faith. Because of that winning record, so to speak, it sure seems like God is in control.
When when your team can't get a hit, your company is laying off waves of employees, your nation seems to be in ever-worsening disarray, or the people of faith pushed toward the margins, it's easy to feel quite the opposite - that God is somehow not in control. Or perhaps just that He's less in control than He was before. The near-term trend seems even more negative, and so God seems even less in control.
There are plenty of examples in Scripture of God being in total control while His people felt quite the opposite, most notably in the life and death of Jesus. There's also Hebrews 11, which celebrates the actions of faith by those whose lives bore little clue that God was steering the ship. It's helpful to read and reread these accounts. But there's also a sense of "that was them, there, back then." It's a little hard to be completely solaced by the stories of people dead for 2000 years or more.
Perhaps a little logic will help. Think of the times when it really feels like God is in control. Either those times are a complete fraud or they are the very evidence we need. If God is in control in the good times, that means He's sovereign over all things in order to make those times good. Therefore, that means that He's sovereign over bad things as well as good things, whether bad things or good things are currently happening. So, either good times are a fraud, that even then God's not really in control, or the good times are the proof we need to remember that God must be in control of the bad times, too. He's either never sovereign over all things or He's always sovereign over all things. He can't be less in control at any point in time.
An author is control of not only the protagonist characters but also the antagonists. She's in control of both the happy storylines and the sad storylines. The author is no less in control of the difficult parts of the story, and in fact is using both good times and bad times to accomplish the purpose of the narrative.
God's narrative is Creation, Fall, Redemption, and Restoration. He's the author of that ongoing story. There is no part of the storyline that He's less in control of than others. When we're in the chapters where everything falls apart, the author isn't losing. He's just making the story complete.
Some feel this way about our nation's history. Things were going along pretty well for a while, with "win" after "win" in almost every arena. And then seemingly in the blink of an eye, the bottom fell out and nothing seems to be going in a good direction. The economy is suffering, good jobs are much harder to find, we have one of the weirdest political seasons in our history, and we're getting into violent disagreements over who gets to use which toidy.
It's easy to feel like God's in control when your home team is "winning," whether that's your favorite sports team, your company, your nation, or even the people of faith. Because of that winning record, so to speak, it sure seems like God is in control.
When when your team can't get a hit, your company is laying off waves of employees, your nation seems to be in ever-worsening disarray, or the people of faith pushed toward the margins, it's easy to feel quite the opposite - that God is somehow not in control. Or perhaps just that He's less in control than He was before. The near-term trend seems even more negative, and so God seems even less in control.
There are plenty of examples in Scripture of God being in total control while His people felt quite the opposite, most notably in the life and death of Jesus. There's also Hebrews 11, which celebrates the actions of faith by those whose lives bore little clue that God was steering the ship. It's helpful to read and reread these accounts. But there's also a sense of "that was them, there, back then." It's a little hard to be completely solaced by the stories of people dead for 2000 years or more.
Perhaps a little logic will help. Think of the times when it really feels like God is in control. Either those times are a complete fraud or they are the very evidence we need. If God is in control in the good times, that means He's sovereign over all things in order to make those times good. Therefore, that means that He's sovereign over bad things as well as good things, whether bad things or good things are currently happening. So, either good times are a fraud, that even then God's not really in control, or the good times are the proof we need to remember that God must be in control of the bad times, too. He's either never sovereign over all things or He's always sovereign over all things. He can't be less in control at any point in time.
An author is control of not only the protagonist characters but also the antagonists. She's in control of both the happy storylines and the sad storylines. The author is no less in control of the difficult parts of the story, and in fact is using both good times and bad times to accomplish the purpose of the narrative.
God's narrative is Creation, Fall, Redemption, and Restoration. He's the author of that ongoing story. There is no part of the storyline that He's less in control of than others. When we're in the chapters where everything falls apart, the author isn't losing. He's just making the story complete.
Tuesday, May 31, 2016
Was I Made for More than This?
Raise your hand if you've ever asked this.
Now put your hand down, because it looks odd to raise your hand while looking at the screen.
Were you? Were you made for more than what your typical week includes? Or, were you made pretty much for the life you presently have? Does your life approximate what God specifically designed you for?
I don't ask assuming "yes" or "no" for you. But I want you to think about it. Maybe you've hit that sweet spot of feeling like your "this" is exactly what God made you for. Maybe not.
Be careful of what "more" means, though. "More" does not necessarily mean more money, more recognition, more power, more reach, more of a career, or more toys and experiences. "More" could mean more depth, more honesty, more genuine relationships, more clarity, or more of some other intangible. Whatever the "more" is, do you feel like you were made for it, but aren't experiencing it?
In part, all followers of Christ should feel this. We live in the "Already, But Not Yet" Kingdom, of which we have great foretastes, but not the full measure. We were in fact made for more than this. In Christ, we were made for the full-on, unveiled Kingdom of God. And ideally, we should feel that nagging sense that we were made for more than what we presently experience.
I would also venture a guess that most of us were made for more than what we have of this life, too. What God designed us for, saved us for, equipped us for, and calls us to is almost certainly more than the life we each live today. I say this not to drive to guilt, but to open our eyes that we have not set our sights for our lives as high as God has.
C.S. Lewis wrote in The Weight of Glory:
However, the "more" in our lives may have absolutely nothing to do with quitting our jobs, going to seminary, becoming missionaries, and living in huts (although it might). "More" may have nothing to do with doing more at your local church (although it might).
But what if "more" meant that what you are presently doing, you are to continue doing, but with more intentionality for the Kingdom of God? The cab driver need not turn in his license and pack for Indonesia. Perhaps he need only to understand that driving a cab can be a very full way of living in the Kingdom of God. Rather than merely collecting fares, the cab driver enables others to thrive in their lives. Perhaps he can provide a positive personality for someone who has had to handle angry customers all day. He might even ask to pray for (or with) a customer who shares some bad news. He can understand that by God's sovereignty, he is put in contact with hundreds of people in a month - people who may never step foot in a church. He can train others to not only drive cabs, but to drive cabs in ways that serve God.
Perhaps you were made for more than this, and perhaps that "more" is that you continue doing what you're doing, but with much more of an idea that you live in the "Already, But Not Yet" Kingdom especially in the work God has for you to do.
Now put your hand down, because it looks odd to raise your hand while looking at the screen.
Were you? Were you made for more than what your typical week includes? Or, were you made pretty much for the life you presently have? Does your life approximate what God specifically designed you for?
I don't ask assuming "yes" or "no" for you. But I want you to think about it. Maybe you've hit that sweet spot of feeling like your "this" is exactly what God made you for. Maybe not.
Be careful of what "more" means, though. "More" does not necessarily mean more money, more recognition, more power, more reach, more of a career, or more toys and experiences. "More" could mean more depth, more honesty, more genuine relationships, more clarity, or more of some other intangible. Whatever the "more" is, do you feel like you were made for it, but aren't experiencing it?
In part, all followers of Christ should feel this. We live in the "Already, But Not Yet" Kingdom, of which we have great foretastes, but not the full measure. We were in fact made for more than this. In Christ, we were made for the full-on, unveiled Kingdom of God. And ideally, we should feel that nagging sense that we were made for more than what we presently experience.
I would also venture a guess that most of us were made for more than what we have of this life, too. What God designed us for, saved us for, equipped us for, and calls us to is almost certainly more than the life we each live today. I say this not to drive to guilt, but to open our eyes that we have not set our sights for our lives as high as God has.
C.S. Lewis wrote in The Weight of Glory:
“It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”
However, the "more" in our lives may have absolutely nothing to do with quitting our jobs, going to seminary, becoming missionaries, and living in huts (although it might). "More" may have nothing to do with doing more at your local church (although it might).
But what if "more" meant that what you are presently doing, you are to continue doing, but with more intentionality for the Kingdom of God? The cab driver need not turn in his license and pack for Indonesia. Perhaps he need only to understand that driving a cab can be a very full way of living in the Kingdom of God. Rather than merely collecting fares, the cab driver enables others to thrive in their lives. Perhaps he can provide a positive personality for someone who has had to handle angry customers all day. He might even ask to pray for (or with) a customer who shares some bad news. He can understand that by God's sovereignty, he is put in contact with hundreds of people in a month - people who may never step foot in a church. He can train others to not only drive cabs, but to drive cabs in ways that serve God.
Perhaps you were made for more than this, and perhaps that "more" is that you continue doing what you're doing, but with much more of an idea that you live in the "Already, But Not Yet" Kingdom especially in the work God has for you to do.
Tuesday, May 24, 2016
Blind Path
Last week, I attended a retreat for a non-profit organization I serve on the board with, called Hungry 4 Him. We exist to partner with those who serve vulnerable children, which to date for us has meant orphans in Western Kenya. The Board meets in person every year or so, and online the rest of the year. This particular meeting also included a retreat, led by a licensed counselor who also conducts outdoors-themed retreats.
Our goal for the retreat was to focus on trusting God more. This involved several discussions of various passages as well as some outdoors activities - rock-climbing and other exercises. I was not physically well enough to do the rock climbing, but I was able to participate in another trust exercise. Some of us were blindfolded and the rest of us helped guide the blind along a rather uneven path, which lots of rocks, branches, level changes, and a drop off to one side.
So I guided another board member mostly by voice, and a little by touch, to navigate successfully down the path. There were quite a few places where an ankle could get seriously turned, but we made it just fine. Then we switched roles. However, it was my core muscles that were in pain - the very muscles one uses by instinct if they start to stumble. One wrong move, and I'd be racked with pain. But we went for it.
My guide used more touch than I had provided, which I needed. It was difficult to trust someone to go forward, but we worked it, getting over rocks, staying away from the ledge, and avoiding low branches. I was taking very small steps, but all in the right direction. I was surprised when the said we had made it - it seemed too short of a walk. But after lifting the blindfold, sure enough, we were back where we started.
Here's what struck me: I looked back at the path I had just navigated. I couldn't believe it! It looked far more perilous than how it felt. I navigated that? How could I do that? I could barely walk an uneven path that day by sight, and I had gotten through a somewhat narrow, variegated path with big rocks and a steep ledge. But because I was not allowed to see and my guide gave me what I needed to go forward, I made it through a path fraught with more dangers than I knew.
And so the lesson about the Christian life: We are mostly blind to all that goes on in God's plan and the heavenly realms. God intentionally prevents us from knowing all that endangers us, as an act of grace. And He guides us - by His voice and by touch - to take very small steps, but all in the right direction. Sometimes, it is difficult to trust someone to go forward. He allows us to navigate situations fraught with more dangers than we realize in order to progress to our destination. When the veil is lifted, we will be able to look back and see exactly what He's taken us through. We'll be surprised when we hear we have made it - it will seem too short of a walk.
Tuesday, May 10, 2016
For a Feeling
I mentioned in this column last November my fascination of how much time and money we spend on sports for the main purpose of feeling something specific. That's really why we pour so much into sports - so that we will feel something. For most of us, that's our main takeaway from sports. In that article, I also mentioned why I didn't think that was necessarily a bad thing. We give sports so much because we want to feel something specific.
The same thing is generally true about most of life. We work in our jobs to feel something (security, success, worth, significance). We get married because we want to feel something (loved, safe, known). We watch movies, go on vacation, and have hobbies to feel something. People abuse drugs to feel something ... or to feel nothing. We choose our politics because of how we want to feel (and this year, "feel" is part of a prominent campaign slogan). We have oomph in our activities because we so strongly demand to feel something specific.
Our faith activities, no matter how noble we want to be, are often in pursuit of a feeling just as much. Gathering together on a Sunday morning, being in a Bible study, having Quiet Time (or not having Quiet Time), participating in (or arguing about) music, volunteering with the kids, bringing a crib to a family in need, sewing dresses for orphans ... let's face it ... we do these things at least in part in order to feel something in particular. Perhaps we want to feel something noble (obedient, faithful, helpful, closeness to God, purification after confessing sin) or perhaps we want to feel something a little more self-centered (significance, heroism, superiority, self-righteous), but we definitely look forward to this activity producing that feeling.
Feelings are a big motivator in every aspect of our lives, including how we live out our faith. This is true whether we want to admit it or not.
It's true (I most firmly believe), and furthermore, I believe it's unavoidable. It's not even necessarily wrong.
If I'm right that this is unavoidable, rather than deny it, let's embrace it. You can confess it with me, "Much of my motivation to do anything is so that I will feel something in particular." Denying this entraps us in a loop of continually denying what is universally true, and as long as we're in this loop, we have trouble making real progress.
Let's admit that we're moving mountains in order to feel something, stop long enough to evaluate what feelings we're chasing, and then assess which of those feelings are futile to chase. Or even which of those feelings are counterproductive and even harmful to chase. What feelings, then, should I be chasing instead? What do I need to do to chase those feelings? Am I willing for God to be the only truly fulfillment of the feelings He wants me to have?
In the West, we fancy ourselves thinking, rational beings, motivated by what's smart and logical. (That's how we want to feel, anyway.) However, we want to feel! How we spend money proves it. Even "scientific" shows on TV are produced in a way to make the audience feel something. Don't fancy yourself more like Spock than you truly are. Embrace that you're motivated by chasing feelings, and then work on which feelings you want to pursue.
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