Epic Journey

Epic journeys are commonplace in these times.  Thousands have climbed Everest.  Men have walked on the moon.  I know several people who have walked the Appalachian Trail.  A teenage girl from Holland, Laura Decker, sailed around the world by herself, finishing in January of 2012.  I have contemplated a bicycle tour across America.

Why do we humans have a need for such adventures?  We like to test our limits, as Robert Browning wrote,

“Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp,
Or what's a heaven for?”

The Bible has a cautionary tale about human striving and ambition.  As the ancients built the tower of Babel they did so saying, “Let us make a name for ourselves.”  As medieval architects constructed grand edifices intended for the worship of God I suspect there was a thin line between pious devotion and human pride.

I am writing this in early December, contemplating epic journeys, like the one Joseph and Mary took to Bethlehem from Nazareth.  By modern standards it seems like nothing, only 100 miles.  Still, walking from the hills of Galilee to the mountains of Jerusalem would have been an eight to ten day journey, with the threat of robbers along the way.  Every image we have of that journey shows Mary on a donkey, but the scripture mentions no beast of burden.  She walked. 

And when Jesus was born we are told that shepherds came to witness, telling Mary of angelic messengers announcing his birth.  Mary, we are told, pondered these things in her heart.

I wonder if the longest journey we make has nothing to do with mileage or terrain but has more to do with heart-pondering.  The reason we make epic journeys and test the limits probably has less to do with how much are bodies can take as it does with a desire to discover what we’re made of – who we are.  I wonder what Mary and Joseph learned about themselves on that journey to Bethlehem?  As Jesus grew and chose a path that his parents likely would not have chosen for him, that too was a journey he was taking them on.  What did Mary ponder as she witnessed his crucifixion?

The most epic journeys are about self-discovery, journeys that require no special equipment or extraordinary endurance.  The Christmas story invites us to go on an epic journey, to see if we can travel the same road Jesus trod.  It looks so pleasant at the stable entrance, but terrifying at Golgotha.  This epic journey tests our character, in order to discover what we’re made of.  Such a journey might just be our salvation.  After all, isn’t that what we hope our epic journeys are for?    

Private Behavior versus Public Persona

Too much tea at the Thai restaurant tonight is keeping me up. Didn’t realize green tea had that much caffeine. Anyway, my wakefulness gives me a chance to write about another topic on my mind recently and that is ---

Private behavior versus public persona.

Who is the real me – or you? Is it the person most people deal with in the workplace, the public arena, the local market? Or is it the person you are at home when the doors are closed and it’s just you and your family?

There is a degree of difference between our private and public roles. I am, for instance, a natural introvert preferring lots of solitude and alone time. Yet, in my role as pastor I am daily interacting with people in a very intentional and deliberate way. After years of practice I feel almost natural in my public role, so natural that most people in my congregation would assume I am an extrovert. But I admit that I am more comfortable in what I call my down time. I enjoy coming home and being alone.

I know a police officer who plays his public role very seriously. When he is in uniform you know he means business. But when he is not wearing his badge he sheds that serious role as well. He seems more relaxed and at ease – a distinct difference.

But there is another dimension to this topic that arises out of my recent interest in the biblical concept of righteousness. Righteousness is a complex biblical category implying both a gift of God as well as the result of human ethical behavior. For my purposes in this blog I am focusing on righteousness as a behavioral issue.

Sometimes the differences between public persona and private behavior have less to do with the roles we play than the character we have. For instance, what happens if I am a closet drunk – drinking privately at home, but keeping sober whenever I am in public? What if I am a gentle and patient man in the workplace, but an abusive husband or father at home? What if I am a community leader, a role model to young people, a Sunday School teacher in my church, but at the same time I am secretly stealing money from the company for which I work?

These differences between public persona and private behavior have more to do with our character than with the roles we play and as a result lead to more serious consequences. In these cases we are pretending to be other than what we are and I believe that pretense leads to both psychic and spiritual problems. For true well-being and spiritual maturity our public persona and private behavior should be as congruent as possible. As someone once said, “Character is revealed in what you do when no one is watching.”

Thus, if your private behavior seems a far cry from righteousness, then I would argue that confession and repentance are in order. From years of pastoral experience I am convinced that a disparity between public persona and private behavior takes a toll on a person. One’s personality takes a beating from keeping up the façade of respectability. There is no quick fix, but confession and repentance, followed by counseling and spiritual direction from trusted providers are tried and true methods for achieving wholeness and perhaps even holiness, i.e., righteousness.

We all have various roles that we play. But when our character is in question we have gone beyond role-playing to pretending, and pretense is just another word for hypocrisy. Jesus had little patience for hypocrites. Still, there is hope for all of us. I recall the words of Paul in Chapter 7 of Romans as he struggles to understand why he cannot seem to do the good that he wants to do, when the evil he does not what is what he does. As he is at the point of throwing up his hands in despair, he remembers that righteousness is not the result of his behavior only, but is also the gift of God. “Who will deliver me from this body of death?” He asks. “Thanks be to God through our Lord Jesus Christ!” He responds.

For those who struggle to make your public persona and private behavior one and the same, may you find the gift of righteousness offered by God through the Lord Jesus Christ, and may you build your life on it.