Too Much Angst

I was reading an article on Slate which said that people unconsciously use Facebook and other social networking sites as a way to compare their happiness with that of others. And the tendency is to overestimate the happiness and/or the sadness of others based on their posts. For instance, if someone shares that a pet has died, their sorrow is never quite as deep as others might assume, or so the study says. Likewise, if someone posts bright and happy news, it tends to make others feel less satisfied with their own lives.

Seems like we would all be happier if we didn’t feel the need to compare ourselves with everyone else. The truth is that no one knows the heart of another person. Only God can know. We might empathize. We might “feel their pain,” and “share in their joys,” but only God can know what’s really going on in someone’s soul.

The article made me think about my original blogs. I thought it might be interesting to others if I wrote prayers. These blogs would be prayer, not ABOUT prayer. My intent was to teach the nature of prayer, the language of God-human interaction; in large measure to provide a modern example of what the Biblical psalms already do so well. When the disciples begged Jesus, “Teach us to pray,” he did not give them a lecture, he gave them a prayer, “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name . . .” I guess I was trying to do the same thing in my own limited way.

Some weeks later I had a visit from a concerned member of my congregation. “I’ve been reading your blog and wondered if you were alright,” he said. “I wondered if you are going through a crisis of faith.”

Apparently my prayers-via-blog had triggered his concern. Because my prayers were personal, honest, and in some ways heart-wrenching, he overestimated my despair. I was doing no more than the psalmists themselves . . .

How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I bear pain in my soul,
And have sorrow in my heart all day long?
How long shall my enemy be exalted over me? (Psalm 13:1-2)

What my friend failed to recognize is that as heart-wrenching as prayer can often be, such prayer does not necessarily reveal a crisis of faith but is rather an expression of faith. I was praying to God, after all, not talking to myself about God.

Maybe my friend had also overestimated my happiness, too, at other times. I don’t know. What I do know is that only God knows our hearts, and as much as I value my family and friendships with others, I know that only God can fully understand me, and so I pray – I spill my guts, I speak my anger, I tear my heart open, I plead, I beg, I sometimes bargain. But that doesn’t mean I’m having a crisis of faith. After all, who else but God can listen to all that?

And then, perhaps only then, prayer gives way to praise and thanksgiving – gratitude that there is One who hears the worst and the best in us and discerns the truth of who we really are.

O Lord, you have searched me and known me.
You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
You discern my thoughts from far away. (Psalm 139:1-2)

Enjoy Life

Ecclesiastes is one of those books of scripture that makes me scratch my head and wonder, “How did that get in the Bible”? The author, whether Solomon or some editor, surely seems despondent if not depressed throughout most of the book.

On the other hand, in a group conversation about this book, several in the group had to admit that at one time or another they, too, had felt like the author. So, perhaps it is a good thing we have Ecclesiastes in the canon of scripture to remind us to be honest about our feelings.

One of the gifts of Ecclesiastes is that we are provided an affirmation of the goodness of creation in its pages. While Christian history is filled with examples of a kind of hyper-asceticism, Ecclesiastes lets us know that taking pleasure in the material things of life is not a sin but may be one of the primary reasons for living, at least from the author’s perspective.

There is a place for self-denial in the Christian life – the admonition of Jesus for us to bear our crosses is clear testimony to that. However, the stark self-denial-bordering-on-punishment that has sometimes surfaced in some Christian communities in our history (self-flagellation and –mortification, for example) is not supported at all by Ecclesiastes (or by Jesus I would contend).

So, to “eat, drink, and be merry,” as Ecclesiastes advises us is something we Christians might take to heart, and without any sense of guilt. Nevertheless, I would add that in contrast to Ecclesiastes, such pleasure is not the sole end of human existence. Another word from Jesus, “One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of the Lord.”

Pleasure in the goodness of creation can take us only so far. There is more to life. There is more to “blessing” than enjoying our “stuff.” There is also the Way of the Cross, which is both harder and more satisfying than “eating, drinking and being merry.”

Betting on God

I’m going to start a brief study of Ecclesiastes. For those who don’t know, that’s a book of Wisdom literature from the Old Testament in the Bible. It’s where Pete Seeger got the idea for his song, which the Byrds turned into a hit in 1965. Sing it with me, “To everything . . . Turn, Turn, Turn, . . . there is a season . . .”

There is some evidence that Ecclesiastes almost didn’t make it into the Biblical canon. There were those who thought it a bit too lacking in faith, perhaps a little too pessimistic about God and life. Nevertheless, there it is in the scriptures to teach us something.

“’Vanity of vanities,’ saith the preacher.” Thus it begins. A modern translation suggests that a better modern word to convey the intent of Ecclesiastes is “futility.” In other words, everything in life is just “chasing after the wind.” Sometimes life does feel that way.

And to add to the burden, you can’t know what God is up to. Ecclesiastes 11:5-6 illustrates this perfectly. “Just as you do not know how the breath comes to the bones in the mother’s womb, so you do not know the work of God, who makes everything. In the morning sow your seed, and at evening do not let your hands be idle; for you do not know which will prosper, this or that, or whether both alike will be good.”

Sometimes you wonder whether God is for you or against you. Ecclesiastes says that we can’t know for sure, but he’s willing to bet on God nevertheless. That’s what Dr. Tom Long suggests. Ecclesiastes is making a wager. He’s betting on God even though he doesn’t know the outcome. After Ecclesiastes makes his case about the meaninglessness of life, he nevertheless resolves to serve God even though he has no assurance, no certainty, that doing so will be of any advantage to him. This is the reason I think Ecclesiastes made it into the Biblical canon, because this is what faith is – believing whether it does you good or not. Let him speak for himself, “The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God, and keep his commandments; for that is the whole duty of everyone (12:13).”

I think I have an advantage over Ecclesiastes. I have seen Jesus in whom I believe we can see and know what God is up to. I’m willing to place my bet on God because of Jesus. But imagine what faith Ecclesiastes had that even without the witness of Jesus he was willing to do the same?

Would It Kill You to Say Thank You?

It is nice when someone says “Thank You.” My mother tried to instill the etiquette of thank you notes in me while I was growing up. I only sent them because of her insistence. It was only when I was in my late 20’s when Mom’s training began to take and I saw the importance of formally responding with thanks to those who had been gracious to me in one way or another. My apologies to all those I neglected between the time I was out from under my mother’s immediate supervision and the time I adopted her habits for my own.

Actually, it took another woman to help me see the importance of giving thanks. My wife gave thanks on my behalf until I figured out I could do it myself.

My seminary must have known that young people have a hard time taking up the habit of giving thanks. Whenever I would receive a letter from my seminary informing me that I had received a scholarship for the school year, the letter always reminded me that a thank you note would be appreciated by the family which sponsored the scholarship. Such a prompt helped me be mindful of the need to give proper thanks.

I may be showing my age but my observation, limited as it is, tells me that the next generation is not getting the hang of this formal thank-you business. I now understand why the US Postal Service is going under – no one under thirty-five is sending thank you notes! (I use hyperbole. Surely a few are still sending notes, but they seem all too few, indeed).

Of course, scripture teaches us not to expect appreciation. Indeed, we are not supposed to keep track of the good deeds we do for others. We are told not to let our “left hand know what our right hand is doing.” Still, it feels good to be appreciated.

The apostle Paul was quick to give thanks to the congregations he served. My favorite of these texts is from Philippians (1:3 and following), “I thank my God every time I remember you . . . because of your sharing in the gospel . . .” Paul not only thanked God, but he let his congregations know of his thanks for them and their partnership in his ministry. So, giving thanks is an okay thing to do. It may even be a Christ-like thing to do. Miz Manners would be proud.

Unnecessary

Snow and ice covers the road in front of the parsonage and no one, except a few, is braving the elements today. Authorities on TV and the radio encourage everyone to stay put, “Only necessary personnel should venture out.”

Well, I guess I am not necessary. I usually think otherwise. I think and act as if the world might not go on unless I am turning it on its axis. As pastor-in-charge I am responsible for running the church, keeping the gears greased, making sure spiritual life is happening, assuring the sick and troubled that God is with them. Who will make sure the church carries on if not me?

A day or two of inclement weather is all it takes to disabuse me of my indispensability. Nobody is distressed if the church office stays closed for a couple of days. The bulletin will eventually get put together. The phone calls and correspondence that seemed so necessary can wait a little longer. Appointments can be postponed. Only necessary personnel should venture out.

The weather comes as a wake-up call to my need for Sabbath. I am as guilty as everyone else in our culture of belittling the necessity of a day of doing nothing. I rationalize, “but I have to work on Sunday.” But my Fridays, the day when I am “off,” turns out to be a day of work, too. Only instead of wearing my preacher clothes, I’m wearing clean-the-house, work-in-the-yard, go-to-the-store clothes. Obviously not Sabbath-keeping.

Sabbath is intended to remind us that we are not necessary. A weekly dose of humility. Yes, the world will go on without us. God does not NEED us to keep creation spinning. We may take a rest, and reflect. Do nothing.

I know doing nothing is a heresy in American culture. But it could be the very antidote we Christians need to believing that we are at the center of the world. One day a week in which we observe the sufficiency of God might do us wonders. No need to gather manna. There is enough in our pantry for one more day. No need to do any work. It will still be there tomorrow. Turn off the computer. Don’t answer the phone. Go outside and play and delight in the beauty of creation. If you must do something, let it be something completely unnecessary – something that won’t accomplish anything more than evoking the joy and wonder of living.

Sit and talk with your spouse, your children, your friends. Take a walk in the park, through your town. Sit, (don’t dig or pull weeds) in your garden. Smell the roses. Listen to music. Love the one you’re with. Love the life you have been given. And give thanks that you are not necessary to the machinations of the world. What a relief it is.

Tragic shooting

The recent shooting in Tucson, Arizona of Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords and several others is proving to be a lightning rod for multiple issues of public policy. Jared Lee Loughner, the alleged shooter, is drawing considerable attention, and the issues relating to this shooting is already being politicized.

There is already a call to “tone down the rhetoric” of public speech. The implication being that the current climate of incivility might have contributed to Loughner’s actions.

There is the deeper issue of Loughner’s mental health and the failure of “the system” in providing him with the necessary health care when his pattern of erratic behavior first started to manifest itself.

There is also the appeal for stricter gun control legislation in response to the ease with which this disturbed young man could purchase a weapon.

I don’t know the solution to all the issues raised by this incident. I do know that there will be blame cast about. I do suspect that there will be those who will use this tragedy to advance their own political agendas.

I hope, however, that we don’t lose sight of the human side of the story. Six people died and over a dozen were injured, needlessly. A young man committed a tragic crime because too many people ignored multiple warning signs that he needed help. At the very least we can hope that we might be more vigilant in offering help to troubled souls before they fall off the edge.

The first George Bush held out a vision of a thousand points of light in the hopes of our becoming a kinder and gentler nation. We have moved further from that vision rather than closer to it. I suspect that 9/11 had a lot to do with that. In the immediate aftermath of that particular tragedy things happened in our country that made me very proud to be an American. The stories of generosity and courage and kindness were heartwarming.

But, since then, in an effort to create greater safety and security, we have instead created a climate of suspicion and distrust. If Jared Loughner had manifested his disturbing behavior in the immediate aftermath of 9/11 I believe he would have gotten the help he needed. But, since his troubled soul was revealed in our current atmosphere of paranoia, seems as if everyone turned their backs on him, maybe thinking, “He’s not my problem.”

Well, he is our problem now. And a system of criminal justice that is already overtaxed will have to deal with one more criminal who might never have been one had he been treated as a patient first. As expensive as health care is, I believe it is cheaper than the costs society will face in the aftermath of the Tucson shooting.

Here’s hoping we reach out to help the troubled souls we know. Who knows what tragedies we might prevent?

Why Unhappy?

I caught the tail end of a radio story about optimism. Apparently someone has done an international survey of people’s expectations for 2011. The survey discovered that European countries are very pessimistic about the coming year, with France leading the morbidity quotient. Americans are not very far behind, with the majority NOT expecting much happiness in the coming year.

By contrast, people in nations like Ghana and Nigeria are feeling pretty optimistic about the future. Interesting isn’t it? That those who live in the richest countries are those who are most down-in-the-mouth, while those who live in Nigeria (a nation with extreme poverty, corruption and little social services) are among the happiest in the world.

Maybe folks in Nigeria figure that things can’t possibly get any worse. Or maybe most of them have learned through long years of doing without that it is not things or wealth that lead to happiness in the first place. We, in the U.S. of A., have not learned that lesson yet. The recession has seemed to make us more eager for days of prosperity than ever before, rather than teaching us the value of doing more with less, or of finding happiness apart from things.

Jesus has already summed up the source of happiness a long time ago:

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’ For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. “So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today. (Matthew 6:25-34)”

Epiphany

Epiphany is name Christians give to the remembrance of the magi's visit to the Christ child. We celebrate the star as a symbol of God's light shining in a dark world. We recognize the wise men as representative of the "world" beyond Judaism on whom the revelation of God has shined.

The important thing to note here is that Epiphany reminds us that God's salvation is not something we figured out for ourselves. God had to reveal it to us. In a world of self-made religion, self-help books, and self-actualization strategies, Epiphany tells us that there are some things we cannot discern unless someone tells us.

We sometimes use the word "epiphany," in the same sense as "Aha!" As in, "I've just had an idea/epiphany." The Christian understanding of Epiphany is just the opposite. The mystery of God's plans for creation is never something we can figure out on our own. God is the one who reveals the truth to us. God is the one who shines a light on our path. God is the one who shows us the life that leads to blessing.

Practically speaking, this is why Christians must always be evangelists. No one figures this mystery of God for themselves. Everyone needs a witness, a shining star, a testimony. Everyone needs someone to reveal this truth to them. So, we sing "Go, tell it on the mountain," or "I love to tell the story."

Someone told me the story long ago. It took time for the truth of the story to sink in. I did have a moment when the mystery of the gospel made a connection in my life, but it was not something I figured out for myself. I depended on the witness of many others, including the inward witness of the Holy Spirit, shining a light on my darkness. And now it is my turn to tell the story to others, for some have never heard "the message of salvation from God's own holy word." How will they hear unless I tell them? How will they see unless God shines a light for them?

Epiphany - a reminder to Christians that we have a responsibility to keep shining the light of the star of Bethlehem for the nations to come to its rising.