It's Good Work If You Can Get It

“Living on the surface and in the present bereft of strong echoes of the past, we are (occasionally) happy, but rarely truly joyous.” --- Miroslav Volf

Everybody wants to be happy.  We live in a country where the pursuit of happiness is written into our DNA – the pursuit, but not necessarily the attainment.

I want to be happy.  I want my wife to be happy, and my children.  Why, I want everyone to be happy.  If only there were a formula we could follow, or an elixir we could drink, or . . . wait a minute . . . Every book store has a section of shelves filled with books that promise just such a formula for happiness.  Countless substances we ingest or drink, we do so in hopes of a buzz of happiness.  But if there was a formula or substance that worked, don’t you suppose we would have found it by now?

Might I suggest a different pursuit?  Instead of seeking after what makes you happy, which at most is a fleeting experience, why not pursue something else?  Like love.  Like service to others.  It is simple really.

As an experiment, spend a day seeking, not your own satisfaction, but the satisfaction of your spouse.  Spend a week affirming the work of your colleagues rather than tooting your own horn.  Spend a Saturday doing what your children want to do instead of hauling them around with your own agenda.  Instead of watching tired reruns at the end of the day, write some notecards of appreciation to your elderly relatives. 

All of these suggestions are not about the pursuit of happiness, at least not for yourself.  But don’t be surprised if you find something better as a result – joy.

The quote above by Miroslav Volf, suggests that happiness is superficial, but that joy is deep - built through the richness of experience.  Our circumstances can change in the blink of an eye, but if there is depth to our lives, relationships that have lasted through years and decades, then joy might be possible no matter what our circumstances.  I believe in living fully in the present moment, but this moment is enriched by my past experiences, particularly through the relationships I have had.  And the anticipation of those relationships continuing into the future are an additional blessing that can sustain and encourage joy, no matter what my outward circumstances might be.

Better than happiness, I wish you joy.  And joy comes from nurturing relationships that last through time.  This is nothing new.  There is no secret formula, nor elixir. 

Huey Lewis and The News sang, 

“I want a new drug . . . one that makes me feel like I feel when I’m with you.”  

You see?  Relationship.  That’s what matters, and that’s what leads to joy.

Relationships take work, I know, but as David Wilcox says, “It’s good work, if you can get it.”

You Are Beautiful

Mechthild of Magdeburg was a 13^th Century mystic who left a seven volume work entitled, “The Flowing Light of the Godhead.”  I happened upon a prayer attributed to her – “Lord, help me to believe the truth about myself no matter how beautiful it is.”  For many of us, who tend to be hard on ourselves, this prayer comes as a sweet surprise.  We’re ready, it seems, to see the ugliness of our souls – prepared to beat ourselves up once again.  But, Mechthild helps us to see God, and ourselves, from a different point of view. 

            Matthew Fox, chastised Roman Catholic theologian of the 20^th Century, wrote a book entitled, “Original Blessing,” in which he pointed out that the Biblical story does not begin with original sin (ugliness), but original blessing (beauty).  “And God saw everything that [God] had made and, indeed, it was very good.” (Genesis 1:31)

            One of the sad legacies of some strains of Christianity is the rather strict puritanical perspective that induces neurotic guilt in its adherents.  This is so counter to any understanding of original blessing and beauty that I would have to say that such severe notions of Christianity are not Christian at all.  Jesus came that we might “have life to the full” (John 10:10). 

            Admittedly, Jesus tells some parables in which the characters are cast into the outer darkness, but mostly because these characters were not prepared to celebrate life (the foolish maidens, the banquet-goers who don’t dress for the banquet, the talent-waster who refuses to take any chances). And remember that these are parables, given to hyperbole (exaggeration), in order to make a point.  Life with Jesus seems to be more about stretching the limits of life, rather than adhering to restrictions.

The prophet Zephaniah gives us a picture of an other-than-severe God (3:17):

The Lord, your God, is in your midst,
    a warrior who gives victory;
he will rejoice over you with gladness,
    he will renew you in his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing.

            In conversation yesterday with a friend, he reminded me of Eugenia Price’s book, The Wider Place, in which she testifies to the expansive nature of God’s grace.  The more recent book, UnChristian, describes how the secular world has been put off by puritanical, judgmental Christians.  Well, the world should be put off by Christians who purport to be the thought police.  But the world should also know that such Christianity is an aberration. 

            There is a wide place for those who feel hemmed in.  There is a healing balm for those who beat themselves up.  There are green pastures and still waters for souls who need rest.  There is singing and dancing which abounds around a laughing Jesus (Matthew 11:19).  There is original blessing in every creature God has made, even you, even me.  Lord, help me to believe the truth about myself, no matter how beautiful it is.  Amen.

Too Much

          Dave Matthews had a song, “Too Much,” in which he sang about insatiable desire.  I thought it was an obvious parable about contemporary culture.  We tend to want too much.  And sometimes, we want irreconcilable desires.  We want to eat whatever we want, and we want to keep our schoolgirl figures.  We want government services, but we want them not to cost us.  We want peace and harmony in the family, but we want it on our terms.  We want it all.

          We want too much.  For Christians the season of Lent provides a wake-up call regarding our endless desires.  We begin with an acknowledgement of our limitations on Ash Wednesday with the stark reminder that we are all going to die.  Gee, who wants to think about that? Then we are encouraged to give something up for Lent; another denial of what we may be craving.  And if that is not enough, we keep being reminded about taking up our cross and following Jesus, who himself was cruelly crucified on Good Friday.  Who wants any of this?

          Isn’t there an easier way?  Well, of course there is.  There are countless other ways to live our lives.  In Jesus’ own day, there was the way of the Pharisees and the Sadducees.  There were the extreme ways of the Essenes, or of King Herod, by way of contrast.  There are a variety of ways of living that many find preferable today --- the way of the Kardashians, the way of FOX news, the way of MSNBC, the way of Honey Boo Boo, or the way of the couch potato --- simply watching this endless stream of entertainment (so-called).  If you want it bad enough, you can find plenty of affirmation to buttress your chosen way of living and thinking, whatever that may be.

          But the person who says, “I’m going to follow Jesus,” in this self-indulgent culture is challenged daily to test her or his wants in the crucible of what God wants for us.  And the cross is the litmus test of whether what we want fits with God’s ultimate plans.  There is plenty of cross-avoidance among Christians, no doubt.  But sooner or later, if we claim what we believe, we cannot avoid the sacrifice of Jesus.  The cross stands as a judgment against every self-indulgent choice we make, individually or communally. 

          The irony of our too-much culture is that no matter how much we have, it never seems to be enough.  We always want more, and never seem satisfied.  But Jesus reminds us that God is enough.  And in that enoughness, Jesus was content.  I believe that’s what’s so attractive about Jesus; he was satisfied.  “Foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”  True, but nevertheless, Jesus was still content.  Deep down, I think that’s all we really want, too, . . . to be satisfied with enough.  This is my prayer for all of us.  May we be content with God.  And if we are, it will be enough.     

 

A Matter of Life or Death

One of the main reasons I write this blog is because I want to talk about Jesus to the world.  Most of my work – as teacher, pastor, preacher – is aimed at people who already know Jesus, love Jesus, and want to follow Jesus (if though, sometimes, slowly and reluctantly). 

But out there in internet land are billions of people for whom Jesus is . . . well, I don’t know what you’re all thinking about out there when you do think of Jesus.  So many, I suspect, have a rather casual acquaintance with Jesus – someone to admire, someone whose example is noteworthy – but you are not ready to make the claim that Christians do – Lord, Savior, Christ, Son of God?

I was right there with you for several years of my life.  In my early 20’s I had become a respectful agnostic.  I had grown up the son of missionaries, with a Methodist preacher father, and while I was certainly influenced by the example of Jesus, I had turned my back on all the God-talk of my parents, and cast the church aside for sure.  How could any thinking person believe all that stuff?  I had read Bertrand Russell, and convinced myself I was too sophisticated for religion.

Hah!  Looking back I shake my head at how naïve I was.  Some of history’s greatest minds were unreservedly Christian.  Why?  Not because they came rationally to a conclusion that could be proven, but because they somehow encountered the living God.  I believe that happened to me.  Not in a burning bush, or struck-by-lightning-kind-of-way, but in a growing awareness that there was an authenticity to the life of Jesus – an integrity of word and deed that was unmatched in human history – and I sensed that his presence was still with me, with us, in some indefinable way.  And more importantly, I wanted that same sense of authenticity in my own life, so I made the decision to follow Jesus.  It was not a decision based on reason, but a hunch.

I only partially understood what following Jesus meant back then.  I know better now.  To follow Jesus is not without its pain (the cross is a vivid reminder of what following Jesus means).  But to follow Jesus is also a joy that the world cannot give or take away (the resurrection can be understood as a metaphor for that joy).

Some of you out there think that Christians are only concerned about heaven and hell.  So sad that you have perceived the gospel through the words of too many radio and TV preachers who are but caricatures of the real thing.  Heaven and hell act as symbols for life and death.  The gospel invites us to live, as Jesus says, “abundantly.” (John 10:10)

I am convinced that all of us are either living or dying.  We make decisions every day that are either life-giving or life-taking.  Sometimes by the choices we make the life we are taking is someone else’s.  Sometimes the life we are taking is our own (you know who you are).

But there are those who regularly, consistently, make life-giving decisions.  You speak words that encourage and affirm.  You take actions that enhance the lives of others, sometimes at sacrifice to yourself, and yet it seems a small price to pay.  Such actions prove the paradox of Jesus’ teaching that it is in giving our lives that we find life, as St. Francis of Assisi prayed, “it is in giving that we receive.”  And once in a while there are those words and deeds are in such harmony with each other that we are all ennobled by their example --- we see LIFE in them.

This is what God seeks to give us in Jesus – life to the full.  Life without guilt (forgiveness of sins).  Life without worry (trust).  Life with purpose (sacrifice for others).  Life full of joy (blessing and abundance).

Each Sunday I preach to a congregation.  Each Sunday I believe that what I have to say matters.  Indeed, it is a matter of life and death.  We are all, each one of us, either living or dying.  Jesus came that we may have life.  Why would you NOT choose to follow him?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No Complaints

“How long can you go without complaining? A few months ago, the pastor of a Kansas City church told people in his congregation he wanted them to test their limits. "The one thing we can agree on," said Rev. Will Bowen, "is there's too much complaining." And so he asked the group to give up complaining, criticizing, gossiping or using sarcasm for 21 days. People who joined in were issued purple bracelets as a reminder of their pledge. If they caught themselves complaining, they were supposed to take off the bracelet, switch it to the opposite wrist and start counting the days from scratch. Rev. Bowen said it took him three and a half months to put together 21 complaint-free days. Now, about a half a million people around the world have requested free wristbands to rise to the challenge.”

I copied the above paragraph from a website called “Daily Good,” http://www.dailygood.org/view.php?qid=2889 which, as you might guess, seeks to tell good news.

I like the idea of disciplining ourselves not to complain.  It reminds me of this little interchange of how-do-you-do’s that I’ve had umpteen times in my life:

          “How are you?”

          “Can’t complain.  Wouldn’t do any good if I did!”

There is the school of thought that if you complain often enough something will happen, as in “the squeaky wheel gets the grease,” but I’m fantasizing on what my life would be like if I never heard complaints, and even better if I never, myself, complained.  If I could only be like James in his letter, “Count it all joy, my brothers and sisters, when you face various trials (James 1:2).” 

Any institution of human beings has its ups and downs, including gatherings of God’s people.  People have their preferences and agendas and have a tendency to complain if things are not to their liking.  What could be more human?  I suspect my wife would welcome hearing fewer complaints from me.  And what would it be like if our presidential candidates were required to not complain about each other for twenty-one days?  I can only imagine.

I have not challenged my congregation to a 21-day complaint-free challenge, at least not yet.  But could I do it, myself?  Could you?  How long would it take us to accumulate twenty-one consecutive complaint-free days?  Sounds worthwhile, doesn’t it?