While I don’t have answers for the causes of my anxieties, I do know what to do with the anxiety itself. Do as my therapist, a man full of faith, has taught me. Don’t just ignore the anxiety and push past it. That’s what I’ve done too often in the past. The old saying “Get a ladder and get over it” is like saying “open the presents and get on with the holidays”. When I sat down to eat that Thanksgiving turkey I didn’t rush through it. The process itself has value and there is value in learning to face the anxiety head on, not just get over it.
Face the anxiety. Process it and the thoughts that swirl around it. Feel the feelings (fear, sadness, anger). Work out the anger (good for the physical body as well). Then turn this processed anxiety over to God.
The fear, for me, comes in being out of control. When I am not in control of my world, it feels as though my world controls me – and to no good. When the fear comes, I freeze like the proverbial deer in the headlights. If I try to push past that fear without facing it, the fear stabs me in the back.
So as I process that anxiety and those feelings of fear, I learn to face that fear with the confidence that comes from what I know about God. That He is all powerful. That He is completely just and totally love. That He will indeed carry me no matter what. I am secure in Him – even when I don’t feel like it. Even when I fail.
Even when I fail. Doesn’t matter what others think. Doesn’t matter what others do. These things may change my environment, but that cannot affect my anchor, my standing, my relationship in Christ. When I am flush with a fresh word from God that He is both in control of my world and has a firm grasp on me, then my anxieties wilt. The causes of those anxieties don’t disappear – they are there as much as they ever were. But the fear of those causes fades in the face of my renewed strength.
2008-12-29
2008-12-15
Anxiety and Authenticity - Part III
In the word itself – the word of God that comes to me – is the strength I need. That word from God to me is my daily manna. I’ve tried to store it up. It doesn’t work. God’s word to me, God’s word through others, can fill a reservoir to draw on as needed, can inform the word God has for me at a specific moment. But God wants to meet with me daily. As He did with Adam and Eve in the garden.
This word is not the routine itself. It is not merely the discipline of meeting with God. That is the problem with stale habits and traditions. The form is not the word. We won’t hear from God just because we have a routine.
But the form gives place for the word to come. How can we hear from God without those forms? We are more likely to hear from Him if we set aside place in our lives to hear from Him. That is the strength of regular time with God, of regular time of coming together with His people. In relationship, quantity time and quality time are not the same, but it is hard to have quality without quantity. So setting aside time for hearing from God is one thing.
A second thing is also required. I am reminded as I write that expectation is a necessary ingredient. The old ketchup commercial so effectively expressed the feeling of “anticipation” – the expectation that through the long wait, the ketchup will come. The joy of dating when we are in a relationship that is moving toward commitment is that something special may come of that date. Dating, even the relationship itself, gets stale when we lose that sense of anticipation, of expectation.
The old tarrying custom of Believers in earlier decades was filled with expectation that in waiting on God something was going to happen. But eventually that activity of tarrying became an end in itself. When I was a teenager, a group of us started gathering for a prayer meeting because we were motivated to pray. The prayer meeting grew and with it a sense that God was at work in our midst. Then came the day that we were encouraged to come to the prayer meeting so that we could pick up that sense again. By then, the value of the meeting had been lost.
We don’t get back to the sense of expectation by reviving the habit of tarrying – or by adopting any other particular style of spirituality – any more than we can revive the sense of impending discovery in our married lives by dating as we did before we were committed. We can still date, but the secret is not the form. It is coming to the current forms of the relationship with a sense of anticipating that something fresh will happen.
This word is not the routine itself. It is not merely the discipline of meeting with God. That is the problem with stale habits and traditions. The form is not the word. We won’t hear from God just because we have a routine.
But the form gives place for the word to come. How can we hear from God without those forms? We are more likely to hear from Him if we set aside place in our lives to hear from Him. That is the strength of regular time with God, of regular time of coming together with His people. In relationship, quantity time and quality time are not the same, but it is hard to have quality without quantity. So setting aside time for hearing from God is one thing.
A second thing is also required. I am reminded as I write that expectation is a necessary ingredient. The old ketchup commercial so effectively expressed the feeling of “anticipation” – the expectation that through the long wait, the ketchup will come. The joy of dating when we are in a relationship that is moving toward commitment is that something special may come of that date. Dating, even the relationship itself, gets stale when we lose that sense of anticipation, of expectation.
The old tarrying custom of Believers in earlier decades was filled with expectation that in waiting on God something was going to happen. But eventually that activity of tarrying became an end in itself. When I was a teenager, a group of us started gathering for a prayer meeting because we were motivated to pray. The prayer meeting grew and with it a sense that God was at work in our midst. Then came the day that we were encouraged to come to the prayer meeting so that we could pick up that sense again. By then, the value of the meeting had been lost.
We don’t get back to the sense of expectation by reviving the habit of tarrying – or by adopting any other particular style of spirituality – any more than we can revive the sense of impending discovery in our married lives by dating as we did before we were committed. We can still date, but the secret is not the form. It is coming to the current forms of the relationship with a sense of anticipating that something fresh will happen.
2008-12-08
Anxiety and Authenticity - Part II
There are times when I have wavered greatly in my faith. But I have never abandoned it.
I could not let go of God any more than I could let go of myself, including my questions. I discovered (ironically at the hands of one who worked to destroy my security in God) that God is bigger than my questions, and indeed welcomes them. Certainly that is the example shown me by the Psalmist Asaph.
Recently, Pastor Ray taught that our theology influences our actions, meaning that bad theology leads to bad behavior and good theology leads to good behavior. What I believe and what I do cannot be separated, this is true.
As an ethicist, I am often asked what ethics means? I have always said that ethics at its most basic component is living out what you believe. I can learn more about your theology from your behavior than if you just tell me what you believe. James says something along the same lines in his letter in the New Testament.
When I have struggled with anxieties and fears, I am not sure my theology has gone bad. What I am sure of is that my strength comes from having a firm grip on what I believe – or more precisely who I believe. The crux of the matter is do I really believe what I believe?
This I have seen again and again. The encouraging words of others, even my wife’s, and these various voices this morning in my devotional time, do much to help. But in the end, it is as Wilkerson writes, the word of God has to come to me.
I could not let go of God any more than I could let go of myself, including my questions. I discovered (ironically at the hands of one who worked to destroy my security in God) that God is bigger than my questions, and indeed welcomes them. Certainly that is the example shown me by the Psalmist Asaph.
Recently, Pastor Ray taught that our theology influences our actions, meaning that bad theology leads to bad behavior and good theology leads to good behavior. What I believe and what I do cannot be separated, this is true.
As an ethicist, I am often asked what ethics means? I have always said that ethics at its most basic component is living out what you believe. I can learn more about your theology from your behavior than if you just tell me what you believe. James says something along the same lines in his letter in the New Testament.
When I have struggled with anxieties and fears, I am not sure my theology has gone bad. What I am sure of is that my strength comes from having a firm grip on what I believe – or more precisely who I believe. The crux of the matter is do I really believe what I believe?
This I have seen again and again. The encouraging words of others, even my wife’s, and these various voices this morning in my devotional time, do much to help. But in the end, it is as Wilkerson writes, the word of God has to come to me.
2008-12-02
Anxiety and Authenticity - Part I
I think I know what to do.
I had written in yesterday’s entry of my personal journal, “Is turning this anxiety over to God more a matter of will or of knowing how?” In other words, am I just needing more will power or am I needing to know how to do it? This morning I admit it is both.
As I journal this morning, I think I know what to do and how to be strong. And not be overcome with anxiety. I learned to be strong as a boy growing up. But I came to discover many years later that that strength was in part a coping mechanism. The “in part” was my own strength. And that strength carried me – for a long time, in fact – until I ran out of steam. But it was, as I said, only a part.
Much of that sustaining strength came from a confidence in God that He would, and would always, carry me through. There are those words again. That promise He gave me in the spring of 2006 as this whole nightmare was beginning: “He will carry you.”
If I had only known where this path was taking me. But I had no idea. It is a very good thing. I could not have handled all that information at once. As they say these days, TMI. So he has given me the strength as I have needed it, one step at a time. I see that now.
I see it in the texts I read this morning – Proverbs 11 and Psalm 80 and Luke 1. I hear it in the voice of David Wilkerson has he writes of the Old Testament David’s courage to go on when all was lost at the hands of the Amalekites. I read it in the story of the railroad superintendent in In His Steps, as Alexander Powers is about to bring down his own comfortable world by doing the right thing. What is it that Eric Liddell says in the movie, “Chariots of Fire”? “From where does the strength come? It comes from within.”
I had written in yesterday’s entry of my personal journal, “Is turning this anxiety over to God more a matter of will or of knowing how?” In other words, am I just needing more will power or am I needing to know how to do it? This morning I admit it is both.
As I journal this morning, I think I know what to do and how to be strong. And not be overcome with anxiety. I learned to be strong as a boy growing up. But I came to discover many years later that that strength was in part a coping mechanism. The “in part” was my own strength. And that strength carried me – for a long time, in fact – until I ran out of steam. But it was, as I said, only a part.
Much of that sustaining strength came from a confidence in God that He would, and would always, carry me through. There are those words again. That promise He gave me in the spring of 2006 as this whole nightmare was beginning: “He will carry you.”
If I had only known where this path was taking me. But I had no idea. It is a very good thing. I could not have handled all that information at once. As they say these days, TMI. So he has given me the strength as I have needed it, one step at a time. I see that now.
I see it in the texts I read this morning – Proverbs 11 and Psalm 80 and Luke 1. I hear it in the voice of David Wilkerson has he writes of the Old Testament David’s courage to go on when all was lost at the hands of the Amalekites. I read it in the story of the railroad superintendent in In His Steps, as Alexander Powers is about to bring down his own comfortable world by doing the right thing. What is it that Eric Liddell says in the movie, “Chariots of Fire”? “From where does the strength come? It comes from within.”
2008-11-20
Authentic Faith
While getting the kids ready for school this morning, a story on NPR’s Morning Edition caught my ear. It dealt with the insurance plight of Cailyn Fowler, 13, struggling with cystic fibrosis, a disease close to my heart. When I was a grad student, I served as a Big Brother for Mark, 13, at the Methodist Home in Waco, Texas. Mark was a brilliant if diminutive boy whose father was nowhere and whose mother was emotionally incapable of taking care of him. Mark also had cystic fibrosis and doctors said he would not live past his 21st birthday, a prophecy that sadly came true.
As a college student I grappled hard with the issue of faith. Even when I could not answer all the questions, I never gave up on God. Nor did I commit mental suicide and give up on the questions. I still don’t have all the answers, but at some point along the way I determined that if there was the slightest chance God was real, then faith was worth taking very seriously.
The struggle for me then (and now) was seeing how easy it is to take faith without the seriousness. The big stumbling block has been what the biblical writer James calls “faith without action”. Of all the available faith options, Evangelicalism – particularly the kind that emphases the transformative nature of the present Age of the Spirit – is by far the most at home to me. But what to do with the sorry state of the action part of faith among us Evangelicals?
I could identify with 19th Century Evangelicals who preached the Word while fighting slavery, pushing through child labor laws, promoting woman’s suffrage, challenging the economic forces of liquor, banning pew fees in churches, and writing radical books like In His Steps. But I could not reconcile the racial passivity, cultural hypocrisy and uncompassionate capitalism of my own contemporary 20th Century Evangelicalism. And I continue to struggle with a 21st Century Evangelical social agenda that looks suspiciously selective and insincere in its pro-life and pro-family mantras.
How my heart aches when I hear that Gandhi – after seeing a church sign in South Africa that read “No Dogs or Indians allowed” – would have been able to “get” Jesus were it not for his followers! I know faith is not necessarily impugned by the record of the faithful. But I have never wanted to settle for a faith that did not challenge all of me including my mind, hands, and feet as well as my heart. Not that I’ve always succeeded in that goal. But it remains seriously worth striving for.
The only faith worth living is an authentic faith that takes acutely the claims of that faith, all of them. I feel angry today. Not angry at the world that acts like its sorry sinner self. Not even angry at the Church that should know better. I feel angry most at myself for being so slow to embrace what I’ve deliberately chosen to embrace – a sincere and complete faith in Jesus. Forgive me, Lord, for I don’t always know what I am doing. Help me to get it right this time. Amen.
As a college student I grappled hard with the issue of faith. Even when I could not answer all the questions, I never gave up on God. Nor did I commit mental suicide and give up on the questions. I still don’t have all the answers, but at some point along the way I determined that if there was the slightest chance God was real, then faith was worth taking very seriously.
The struggle for me then (and now) was seeing how easy it is to take faith without the seriousness. The big stumbling block has been what the biblical writer James calls “faith without action”. Of all the available faith options, Evangelicalism – particularly the kind that emphases the transformative nature of the present Age of the Spirit – is by far the most at home to me. But what to do with the sorry state of the action part of faith among us Evangelicals?
I could identify with 19th Century Evangelicals who preached the Word while fighting slavery, pushing through child labor laws, promoting woman’s suffrage, challenging the economic forces of liquor, banning pew fees in churches, and writing radical books like In His Steps. But I could not reconcile the racial passivity, cultural hypocrisy and uncompassionate capitalism of my own contemporary 20th Century Evangelicalism. And I continue to struggle with a 21st Century Evangelical social agenda that looks suspiciously selective and insincere in its pro-life and pro-family mantras.
How my heart aches when I hear that Gandhi – after seeing a church sign in South Africa that read “No Dogs or Indians allowed” – would have been able to “get” Jesus were it not for his followers! I know faith is not necessarily impugned by the record of the faithful. But I have never wanted to settle for a faith that did not challenge all of me including my mind, hands, and feet as well as my heart. Not that I’ve always succeeded in that goal. But it remains seriously worth striving for.
The only faith worth living is an authentic faith that takes acutely the claims of that faith, all of them. I feel angry today. Not angry at the world that acts like its sorry sinner self. Not even angry at the Church that should know better. I feel angry most at myself for being so slow to embrace what I’ve deliberately chosen to embrace – a sincere and complete faith in Jesus. Forgive me, Lord, for I don’t always know what I am doing. Help me to get it right this time. Amen.
2008-10-16
Forgiveness is not automatic?
Passing through Sellwood, I read “Forgiveness is not automatic”. I guess the church sign did its thing – made me look, made me think. I’ve been chewing on that idea, spitting it out and then chewing on it some more for several days now. I can’t get a handle on whether it is true or not.
I google the phrase and all sorts of references appear. My pick of the day is from a university website: “Course forgiveness is not automatic; you must apply through the office of the registrar.” I wish it were that straightforward in life after graduation. I’m not sure it was always that easy as a student either.
Fact is we all mess up. Every last one of us. “To err is human” (Alexander Pope). It is far easier to mess up than fess up, that’s for sure. Maybe it is because we think that forgiveness is so impossible to receive. “To forgive is divine” (Pope, again). See, it is indeed above and beyond the call of being human.
Does forgiveness seem so impossible because I have a hard time doling it out or because I have a hard time coming up with examples of where it has been doled out to me? Which comes first – the chicken or the egg?
We’re kind of like two kids ready to dive off the world’s highest cliff into a vast body of water below: “You first!” “No, you first!” I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.
What about, “OK, let’s do it together”? That is what produces authentic community – when we decide right up front we will make the leap simultaneously, like those synchronized Olympic divers.
But if I understand anything about God, it is that He has chosen to forgive us up front. With God the giving is automatic. That doesn’t fly well with “let ‘em burn” types. But it’s true. Otherwise Cliff Barrows was lying through his teeth all those years at Billy Graham Crusades when he sang “Just as I am.” First comes grace/forgiveness, then comes acceptance (saying “I’m sorry”), then comes resolution/restoration.
OK, there’s that teaching of Jesus’ that if we don’t forgive, we can’t be forgiven. But that is if we, having been forgiven, go out and proactively don’t forgive others. In any case, God is always the initiator of forgiveness – and long before we even know to ask.
But does that mean I automatically have to forgive those who have so deeply hurt me? In a word, yes. Though that effort does take an act of grace by God in me first. Fortunately for me and everyone else, God is very gracious (patient). In the end, though, I do – I will – forgive.
Scary. If only we didn’t lose out by offering forgiveness. How can I forgive them for what they have done? Don’t I just open myself to more pain and abuse? Only if forgiveness is giving up boundaries. When God forgives, he has nothing more to lose than He already lost on the cross. And with that loss, He actually had everything to gain.
So how does that work with me? Do I lose or, like God, gain? When I forgive, I release the hold the past has on me. However, acceptance of forgiveness and restitution are up to the “forgivee”. Beyond that, restoration is not automatic. Restoration of the relationship – reopening up to each other – is always a two-way street and certainly contingent on acceptance of forgiveness, restitution, change and a guarantee of wholesome boundaries.
It’s all still so very scary until I can be sure I can trust God that if I forgive, He will protect me. Sometimes the pains in life are so deep that such trust is hardly automatic. But I’m learning in the authentic journey that authenticity is being honest and also being willing to move ahead. If the other guy says “you first”, I just want to make sure God jumps with me. As I’m finding out, He always does.
I google the phrase and all sorts of references appear. My pick of the day is from a university website: “Course forgiveness is not automatic; you must apply through the office of the registrar.” I wish it were that straightforward in life after graduation. I’m not sure it was always that easy as a student either.
Fact is we all mess up. Every last one of us. “To err is human” (Alexander Pope). It is far easier to mess up than fess up, that’s for sure. Maybe it is because we think that forgiveness is so impossible to receive. “To forgive is divine” (Pope, again). See, it is indeed above and beyond the call of being human.
Does forgiveness seem so impossible because I have a hard time doling it out or because I have a hard time coming up with examples of where it has been doled out to me? Which comes first – the chicken or the egg?
We’re kind of like two kids ready to dive off the world’s highest cliff into a vast body of water below: “You first!” “No, you first!” I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.
What about, “OK, let’s do it together”? That is what produces authentic community – when we decide right up front we will make the leap simultaneously, like those synchronized Olympic divers.
But if I understand anything about God, it is that He has chosen to forgive us up front. With God the giving is automatic. That doesn’t fly well with “let ‘em burn” types. But it’s true. Otherwise Cliff Barrows was lying through his teeth all those years at Billy Graham Crusades when he sang “Just as I am.” First comes grace/forgiveness, then comes acceptance (saying “I’m sorry”), then comes resolution/restoration.
OK, there’s that teaching of Jesus’ that if we don’t forgive, we can’t be forgiven. But that is if we, having been forgiven, go out and proactively don’t forgive others. In any case, God is always the initiator of forgiveness – and long before we even know to ask.
But does that mean I automatically have to forgive those who have so deeply hurt me? In a word, yes. Though that effort does take an act of grace by God in me first. Fortunately for me and everyone else, God is very gracious (patient). In the end, though, I do – I will – forgive.
Scary. If only we didn’t lose out by offering forgiveness. How can I forgive them for what they have done? Don’t I just open myself to more pain and abuse? Only if forgiveness is giving up boundaries. When God forgives, he has nothing more to lose than He already lost on the cross. And with that loss, He actually had everything to gain.
So how does that work with me? Do I lose or, like God, gain? When I forgive, I release the hold the past has on me. However, acceptance of forgiveness and restitution are up to the “forgivee”. Beyond that, restoration is not automatic. Restoration of the relationship – reopening up to each other – is always a two-way street and certainly contingent on acceptance of forgiveness, restitution, change and a guarantee of wholesome boundaries.
It’s all still so very scary until I can be sure I can trust God that if I forgive, He will protect me. Sometimes the pains in life are so deep that such trust is hardly automatic. But I’m learning in the authentic journey that authenticity is being honest and also being willing to move ahead. If the other guy says “you first”, I just want to make sure God jumps with me. As I’m finding out, He always does.
2008-10-03
Authentic Community
People these days talk a lot about defining community, be it family, neighborhoods, church, social groupings, labor unions, corporations, cities, even nations. When I was a kid, these concepts seemed more clearly defined, set in stone even. Things have changed – and I’m not sure all for the worse. Sometimes the good old days don’t always look so good in retrospect. For sure, they weren’t perfect. Today’s dysfunctions are rooted in yesterday.
I got to thinking out loud on an email with a friend this morning. We’ve each been going through transition in community relationships the past couple of years.
A lesson I’ve been learning is that even when you think you are on target as a community, you can be completely off based and not know it until you find yourselves in a crisis. It is then you discover deep anxieties hidden which surface only when a fresh issue presents itself.
This is the real test of any community of any size. I used to think that organizational size mattered. But I've seen things done well and things done not so well and size doesn't seem to be a significant factor. What really counts is how well the community connects individuals relationally and how thoroughly the community works to develop the giftings of every member – every one of them. Not just initially, but ongoing.
The test is not how well a community functions when things are going smoothly, but how well it functions in crisis. As with individuals, crisis reveals a community’s true character. We saw this played out with Hurricane Katrina – the cracks in the levees were minor compared with society’s fault lines. This is a principle of character more than philosophy or structure. Often times structural flaws show, but they are usually symptoms of much deeper defects in corporate vision and philosophy which are, in the end, mere reflections of that community’s heart. All looks good on paper, but doesn’t pass the test. It has to be in the community’s character DNA, regardless of what is said or printed or posted.
When you go through such a community crisis as an individual, you hopefully come out still very relationship-committed to the core. Yet you may have to take time to get back to where you trust yourself in close relational quarters again. You know you will get there, but you can’t rush it. Time doesn’t necessarily heal all, but it is part of the healing process.
Everyone may be ready to move on, but there is a subterranean shifting going on individually and corporately that will take distance to sort out. Relational trauma has occurred and that is not easily glossed over. Doesn't necessarily mean you obsess as a community or as individuals, just means you remain alert to triggers down the road.
Occasionally, subtle signs show that you are still working things out. How we deal with these matters varies, but the main thing is not ignoring the signs and remembering they are symptoms of something going on at a deeper level. Fact is we are in a grieving process – something God-given and healthy. I, for one, am learning that I don't move on by ignoring pain. I move on by embracing and processing the pain. May not sound fun, but it is healthy and authentic.
I got to thinking out loud on an email with a friend this morning. We’ve each been going through transition in community relationships the past couple of years.
A lesson I’ve been learning is that even when you think you are on target as a community, you can be completely off based and not know it until you find yourselves in a crisis. It is then you discover deep anxieties hidden which surface only when a fresh issue presents itself.
This is the real test of any community of any size. I used to think that organizational size mattered. But I've seen things done well and things done not so well and size doesn't seem to be a significant factor. What really counts is how well the community connects individuals relationally and how thoroughly the community works to develop the giftings of every member – every one of them. Not just initially, but ongoing.
The test is not how well a community functions when things are going smoothly, but how well it functions in crisis. As with individuals, crisis reveals a community’s true character. We saw this played out with Hurricane Katrina – the cracks in the levees were minor compared with society’s fault lines. This is a principle of character more than philosophy or structure. Often times structural flaws show, but they are usually symptoms of much deeper defects in corporate vision and philosophy which are, in the end, mere reflections of that community’s heart. All looks good on paper, but doesn’t pass the test. It has to be in the community’s character DNA, regardless of what is said or printed or posted.
When you go through such a community crisis as an individual, you hopefully come out still very relationship-committed to the core. Yet you may have to take time to get back to where you trust yourself in close relational quarters again. You know you will get there, but you can’t rush it. Time doesn’t necessarily heal all, but it is part of the healing process.
Everyone may be ready to move on, but there is a subterranean shifting going on individually and corporately that will take distance to sort out. Relational trauma has occurred and that is not easily glossed over. Doesn't necessarily mean you obsess as a community or as individuals, just means you remain alert to triggers down the road.
Occasionally, subtle signs show that you are still working things out. How we deal with these matters varies, but the main thing is not ignoring the signs and remembering they are symptoms of something going on at a deeper level. Fact is we are in a grieving process – something God-given and healthy. I, for one, am learning that I don't move on by ignoring pain. I move on by embracing and processing the pain. May not sound fun, but it is healthy and authentic.
2008-03-13
Authentic Friends
A couple old friends just replied by email to snail mail letters I wrote them recently. I hadn’t been in touch with either in ages.
How comforting to hear from those who have known you forever and have seen you weather many a storm and watched you pull through time and again! I shared with them how my life had taken some nasty turns recently. They were like “Wow, Man! We’re right here for you!” Nothing had changed.
Amazing how certain friendships can be so ready to pick up again after so long. A therapist friend says all relationships go through rupture – for a host of reasons. The question is whether we are willing to do the work of repairing them. In some cases, it is better just to leave the past in the past and pick up at the present. In others, it is necessary to go back and work through the rupture. With these particular friends, distance caused the separation, and a quick exchange of letters sharing the gist of recent happenings sufficed.
Old relationships lacking currency and immediacy cannot substitute for “here and now” friends. What these oldies do have is the ability to validate us in ways immediate friendships cannot. The old ones see a much broader picture of who we are. They understand that the sum of us is not merely what they are seeing of us today. They know we are more than a single or a handful of episodes. Whatever today offers, no matter how awful, it is not the final verdict of who we are as a person.
For me, one “old” friend, my wife, has the maximum view available to humans – she knows both the broad and the immediate. As far as human friends go, there is no competition.
But there is One who has a far more complete perspective on each of us, a truth easy to forget when immediate friends rush to judgment or old friendships fade. Besides the broad and immediate views, God has the insider advantage – seeing me like no one else, not even I myself, can. Plus, God alone sees me from the future. Broad, immediate, insider, future -- all make for a vastly enhanced perspective. Like 4D vision.
Hillary Clinton famously quoted the old proverb, “It takes a village to raise a child.” It also takes a village to live a life. I firmly agree that “no man is poor who has friends,” a saying made famous by the movie “It’s a Wonderful life”. I’ve long relished the idea that I was wealthy from this angle if no other. Lately I’ve realized that some of these assets have been tied up. I am heartened to regain access to them and discover that they are still quite valuable, at least as broad friends, if not immediate or current.
God speaks, among other means, through people and when we access these old friends we are likely to hear God that much more fully. The voices of multiple friends are not redundant. Lacking God’s megaview, they each provide a unique perspective. Even when they say the same thing, they confirm what others see. The “two-or-three witnesses” validation is crucial to countering lying or misinformed voices, regardless how voluminous.
No wonder God said man (male or female) was not meant to live alone. God made us social, made us to live in community. We are, if anything, relational creatures. In God’s likeness.
2008-03-04
Really
So I’m on this journey. Like one of those things you buy into not knowing all that is involved, only to discover too late that it’s far more than you bargained for. Years ago, I had a small clip-out hanging on my wall: “I've always admired the person who could bite off more than they could chew – and then chew it.” How many times have I found myself in that spot! Sometimes it is best not to know the future or you’d never get out of bed.
I’m on this journey. I’m not sure I’ve made many big decisions to get me here, but I sure have made a lot of little ones fully unaware of unintended consequences far down the road.
One big decision I made a long time ago – or was it a matter of little choices becoming a habit? – was to live life as authentically as I could. I’m not sure I’ve always followed that ideal. After all, I like to be liked by the next person as much as the next person.
Well now, events have conspired so that most all the safety nets have been pulled away. When that happens, you don’t have to worry about risk – you risk no matter what you do, which in a way means whatever action you take is in some sense therefore risk-free. How can you really be risking if there is nothing left to lose?
OK, I still have a few things to lose, five to be exact. My wife and my kids. Oh, and life itself – mine. Still, relatively speaking, already being in free-fall, it is much easier to live the authentic life, if that is your goal, and I realize it really is.
I’m on this journey. And I want it to be as authentic as possible. Why? I don’t know. Because authenticity, for whatever reason, seems to give life meaning?
Then what does it mean to be authentic? (Quick look at the dictionary) Genuine. Real. Sounds fine. Real what?
My wife used to have this clipping (we have clipped a lot in our lives) of this mass of penguins, all look-alikes to the human eye. One of them stands up above all the rest and says “I gotta be me!” Which of all those penguins is the authentic one? One who looks and acts like penguins do? Or the one who stands out and says, “I gotta be me”?
I don’t know about penguins, but I have a feeling that as far as humans are concerned, the human who asks questions like, “Who am I really?” and “What makes me genuine?” is the authentic human. Case in point, Rene Descartes’ famous statement, “I think therefore I am.” I threw that in to sound refined (how’s that for authentic?) and, more importantly, to take off on what Descartes was saying.
Humans think, or at least that is what they are supposed to do. When they really do think, they are more likely to be authentically human than when they don’t. Most times most people don’t think – at least not much. They just plow straight ahead. But when life gets wacky and there is no more “straight ahead” to plow, it makes one start to really think. And that person, just maybe, starts to be human. So the authentic journey I’m on is a human, thinking one. At least that’s the goal, I think.
2008-02-26
The Journey Begins
What if you find yourself in a place that seems totally out of place? I believe God puts me where I am and that the Community of Faith will be used to confirm God’s direction in my life. Yet, I find myself, after 50 plus years of living, moving in a direction so radically different from where my life has been headed all these years – a direction hard for fellow believers to appreciate or accept, especially if they know the whole story. I’d think I was completely off my rocker except that my wife is with me in this and we both have peace of mind about all this. Maybe we’re both loony.
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