Focus Issues

Sometimes it’s funny what can get you thinking. Today, it was the phrase “…the growing lack of integration of the Christian faith into all of everyday life.” This was included as part of the summary of a book by an author for whom I have a significant amount of respect. The thing is, it touches very close to a nerve. It reminds me of one of those things that make people that don’t accept Christ look at those of us who do and say “why would I want to be like that?” What I am talking about are those that claim the name, then spend much of their time clamoring and groaning about how the rest of the world fails to live like it has embraced the same principles and values. This clamoring is often focused around a few hot button issues. Don’t immediately assume that I’m on a different side of these issues. On most, I’m probably not. The problem I have is that these same folks haven’t exactly worked out to perfection all of God’s plan for righteousness in their own lives. None of us can achieve perfection by God’s standard on this side of paradise. But if we’re gonna talk about trying, it ought to be about achieving it ourselves, rather than demanding it of others. At that point, we can start picking up stones.

A Spirit of Adoption

To me, this story absolutely reflects the kind of love Christ calls for us to have.  What might have happened to Natalie had her new Mom not insisted on loving her as she was?  What might have happened to us had Christ not decided to love us as we are?  God bless this Mom and Natalie.

The Lifeboat and Cutting Line

Have you ever read something that you knew applied to you in a way that was both true and made you profoundly uncomfortable? That happened to me not too long ago. It bugged me so much that I had to dog-ear the page so I could finish being bugged later. This particular something was in a book by one of my favorite authors, Donald Miller.

In this particular section of Miller’s Searching for God Knows What, he’s recounting a story of standing in line at his favorite coffee shop. As he is standing there, this guy blatently cuts in front of the guy in front of him. What happens next rather clearly separates me from the guy in front of him. The guy in the story gets all bent out of shape and starts staring a hole through the cutter. I would never have done this. I would have started with, “Excuse me.” and escalated things as necessary until he relocated his impertinant backside to the end of the line where he belonged. Thus the conviction the following commentary visits upon yours truly. As if the hook weren’t well and truly planted in my pride at this point, he adds to the problem by augmenting this story with another story of another friend that goes particularly nuts when someone cuts him off in traffic. In my own defense, I am past the road raging of my younger years. This fact does not change the fact that there are few things that aggrevate me more than being cut off in traffic.

Here’s where the problem begins: Miller questions if the reactions that I and others like me have are nothing more that a manifestation of insecurity. Are these a reflection of the fact that I take the possibility that others could succeed in cutting line on me in traffic (or Starbucks) as a sign that I am not worth as much as they?

The convicting part to me is the implication that I am deriving my self worth from somewhere other than where I should be. Intellectually (and theologically) I know that my ultimate worth doesn’t come from either my position in some global line or the fact that I allow no disrespect to go unanswered. The problem is, neither my actions not my emotions seem consistent with that fact. I’ve always known I had these reactions, but I thought I was simply defending (in a manly way) my “honor” (or something like that anyway).

Miller talks throughout this book about the idea of lifeboat theory. Its based on the ethics/morals exercise in which there is a sinking ship and a lifeboat of limited capacity. The list of potential lifeboat passenger candidates exceeds the capacity of said lifeboat by some amount. Participants in the exercise must sort out who gets the seats and who falls sinking into the abyss with Leonardo DiCaprio. Miller makes the point that humans often seem to be involved in some global game of lifeboat in which we are all trying to secure our positions by ensuring that we are either of great value, or that someone else is of lesser value. This in turn guarentees that we will not be the one left off.

If I allow that guy to cut me off in Starbucks, that implies he is more worthy of the lifeboat seat than I. As a result, I am willing to behave in a manner that witnesses would probably not attribute to my Christian faith, but instead to a rather surly disposition.

If one believes that we are all just the result of some cosmicly improbable evolutionary accident, and that we are no different from apes and wart hogs, then I suppose this sort of behavior would not be all that disturbing. I don’t believe that, however. I believe that I (and the rest of the human race) were the result of a deliberate act of creation by a loving and (thankfully) forgiving God. Intellectually (an theologically) I know that I have inherent value as a person and that this value comes from the fact that I was 1) Uniquely created by God 2) in His image and that 3) the same God came as Christ, suffered, and died for my sins that I might share eternity with Him. Yet somehow, I lose track of this. Somehow, I still want to fight for my seat on the lifeboat from time to time.

Faithful

Each year for the last 3, I have devoted a significant chunk of my alotted vacation time to work with my youth group. For the prior two years, this was comprised of two events: a week at summer camp and 2-3 weekdays at the National Youth Workers convention. This year, I decided it was time for something different. Rather than attending the NYWC, I decided I was overdue to attend the youth summer service project that our youth attended. Instead of 4-5 days of worshipping and workshopping with several thousand adult youth workers, I spent 3.5 days working in 100 degree heat in Macon repainting a house, with a team made up exclusively of middle schoolers. No regrets. It rocked. I’ll be doing it again this year, God willing.That’s not really the point, however. The point is this: I spent some time at this event (It’s called River Of Life) greiving the separation I knew was soon to come between me and this incredible group of youth and counselors (I knew I was leaving to become a youth minister elsewhere, the youth didn’t). I’m coming to the point now. One night at worship I was watching the completely unrestrained worship of these youth, thinking to myself, “I’m really going to miss being a part of this incredible group of kids”. It was then that the truth came into my head in as close to an audible voice as I have ever heard: “If you are faithful to Me, I will build such a group through you.” I actually lost my balance for a moment and had to grab a chair. When I was done being awe-struck, I wiped my eyes. This was not the sort of thing I had experienced before.

I can’t tell you that I’ve had an unbroken chain of days during which I have believed in what I heard/experienced. The last few months have been hard. Our new church has been rocked by a tragic loss none of us expected. That loss has brought a series of challenges for which I was unprepared. I’ve had nights where I couldn’t help but wonder if I was where I was supposed to be. But here’s the deal: I AM where I am supposed to be. On the nights of youth where I stink up the joint, and on the nights when God’s hands and God’s words are using a flawed vessel to get the job done, I am where I am supposed to be.

Occassionally, God sees that my mustard seed faith is tossing about in the wind and gives me the encouragement I need. Sunday night, our new pastor attended youth for the first time. I was wondering what he would think of my small group of kids that didn’t really participate in group discussions. I had picked this week to set aside packaged curriculum in favor of a more “small group” style lesson. I prepared a talk, some notes, and some questions based on a section of Romans 1. My previously unresponsive group of core kids embraced it in a way I never expected. They were responding to hard questions with awesome, insightful answers. One minute, we were eating baby food (in what I think was one of my best game adaptations to date) and the next we were talking in a real way about why people fear or deny God. Was it my prep work? No. Was it the baby food? No. Was it God reminding me that if we are faithful, He will use us to His purpose? Absolutely.

The 24 Hour Call Rule

To start out, let me give props to Intern Kristen for the inspiration for this post in her talk last night.

Now that the credits are out of the way…

I know I’m old and all, but I’ve found that the more traumatic memories have stuck with me pretty well over the years. One category of memories in particular, “first date” memories, are aromatic (pungent?) enough that I still remember several of them quite clearly. You know the drill. I would finally get that date with someone really incredible. We’re talking serious prep-time here. Best shirt, plenty of deo, and in my day, a dab of Polo, Drakkar Noir , or maybe even Obsession for Men (depending on which decade it was) were all required equipment. Off I go to a restaurant I can’t afford and a movie I don’t really want to see (big secret here ladies: if Julia Roberts is in it, we ain’t going for OUR entertainment). Things go well, maybe a smile, some hand holding, or depending on the date, a kiss before the drop off.

And then it starts. The 24 hour clock. It’s not like I can lose my man-card for disclosing this, cuz everyone knows already. You don’t call the girl back in the first 24 hours becuase (everyone together now) “you’ll look desparate“.

Now, if this is a take-her-or-leave-her kind of a date, the time is no problem. I spend the next day playing video games, hanging out with my buddies, watching MASH reruns, whatever. But if she is one of those girls (going back to the Drakkar Noir, et.al.) this was the most miserable 24 hours of my life. I would spend the entire time rehashing the date, trying to figure out whether she dug me or not. Was that zit there during the date, or was that the after effect of that Bennigan’s Monte Cristo I had for dinner? What did she really mean by “Oh, I didn’t know you liked Goobers instead of Jujubees“? Was that fear in her eyes when I reached for her hand? On and on it goes, the worries and preoccupations grow larger and larger, not unlike the monster under the bed.

Meanwhile, while I obsess on the failings, miscommunications, and missed signs from the date, SHE is playing video games, hanging out with her buddies, watching MASH reruns, or whatever equivilents girls do. Furthermore, she never saw the zit, thought it was cool that I preferred peanut products to fruit-flavored recycled horse hoofs, and was pleasantly suprised that such a clearly shy person had the nerve to hold her hand (and was nervous I would notice that it was a bit chafed and in need of lotion), but in general, she hasn’t thought about the date since I dropped her off.
“Are you going somewhere with this?” you are no doubt asking by now. I hope so. This whole idea came up as part of Kristen’s talk about Christian doubt last night. I’m not saying that either you or I are necessarily on a metaphorical “first date” with Christ, but what I am suggesting is that the source of our doubts in our relationship with him are similar in nature. With the dating situation mentioned above, as I got to know each of the people I dated better, I became less concerned about my flaws as I grew to understand their acceptance of me. The same will be true if we invest this kind of dedication in getting to know Christ and opening ourselves to Him. In James 4:8, we are promised that if we draw near to God, He will draw near to us. If we just hang around worrying about whether God likes us or not, are we really fulfilling our part of the relationship? I’m not saying that doubts aren’t real or trying to belittle them. There are times that all of us feel disconnected from our Creator. I’m just saying that if there is distance there, it’s not because He moved away from us. Draw closer to Him though prayer or by reading His word, and He WILL draw closer to you.

I don’t know if waiting 24 hours keeps us from looking desparate in the dating world or not. I AM confident that this rule should not and cannot apply in matters of faith.