Nothing brings perspective like the truth. And though the truth is hard to hear, and even harder to say at times, it is the best way to gain perspective on any issue.
The truth is how God brought Jonah to the correct perspective. Sure, it was delivered in the form of a question in Jonah 4:10-11, but it is a rhetorical question, so the answer is assumed. And the answer? "You bet I shoud be concerned!" (That's my loose interpreation of God's implied answer to Jonah in the original Hebrew.)
That helped Jonah start seeeing the situation correctly instead of selfishly; that helped him start viewing people as primary, his own comfort as secondary (at best); that helpped him gain God's perspetive about others: they matter!
Yep, nothing like to truth to help us see things correctly. Check out the way this young college girl used it to help her dad have the right perspective:
“Dear Dad,
Sorry I haven’t written sooner. My arm was dramatically broken. Seriously, I broke it, and my left leg, when I jumped from the second floor of my dormitory. Oh yeah, we had a fire. But we were lucky. A young service station attendant saw the blaze and called the fire department. Fortunately, they were there in minutes. But I was in the hospital for a few days for smoke issues and the broken bones. However, Paul, the service station attendant who originally called the firefighters, came to see me every day. And because it was taking so long to get our dormitory livable again, I moved in with him. He has been so nice! I must admit, though, I was surprised when I discovered I am expecting a baby, and even more surprised when the doctor said I have something he calls a “social disease.” But don’t worry, Dad, the shots are working, and we have an abortion clinic nearby as well. Of course, Paul and I plan to get married, but he needs to get his divorce processed first. We're not sure how the custody battle will go, so for now his five kids will probably live with us. Anyway, I hope things are fine at home. I’m actually doing fine now that things have settled down a bit, and will write more when I get the chance.
Love,
Your daughter
P.S. None of the above is true. But I did get a “C” in Sociology and I flunked a Chemistry test. I just wanted you to receive the news in its proper perspective.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Justly Angry or Just Angry?
God asks 3 questions in Jonah 4, and 2 of them are somewhat similar because they both involve the issue of anger. Essentially, God asked Jonah, "Do you have a right [just casue] to be angry?" Sure, he was referring to Jonah's anger towards God the first time, and then to the vine the second time. But the fundamental issue of anger is still present.
So was God actually implying there can be just causes for anger? You bet! Don't misunderstand me -- Jonah didn't have one. But that doesn't mean there can't be one ever.
For instance, Jesus was righteously angry with the misuse of his Father's house, and he threw out the abusers (Matthew 21:12-13). And Paul said “in your anger don’t sin” (Eph. 4:26). James even instructed us to be "slow to become angry" (James 1:19). Notice he didn't say never become angry, just be slow to get angry. Why? Because quick anger is usually the wrong kind of anger; it is a man-type of anger, not a God-type of anger.
Now back to Jonah...Basically, God wanted to know if Jonah was justly angry or just angry? What's the difference? The focus of the anger! In Jonah's case, he was hoping for an end to his enemies when he should have been hoping for an end to their wickedness. He was fixated on the end result from man’s perspective when he should have been hoping for an end to their sin from God's perspective.
What's at the end of your anger -- sin or sinners? When wickedness is the focus of our anger, it's a rightoues indignation; we are justly angry. (Check out Duet. 9 for an example of God's just anger against sin, not sinners.) But when people are at the end of our anger, then we're just angry; we're selfishly upset, not righteously indignant.
Bottom line? "Love the sinner, hate the sin." (Props to the old-time preachers I grew up on!)
So was God actually implying there can be just causes for anger? You bet! Don't misunderstand me -- Jonah didn't have one. But that doesn't mean there can't be one ever.
For instance, Jesus was righteously angry with the misuse of his Father's house, and he threw out the abusers (Matthew 21:12-13). And Paul said “in your anger don’t sin” (Eph. 4:26). James even instructed us to be "slow to become angry" (James 1:19). Notice he didn't say never become angry, just be slow to get angry. Why? Because quick anger is usually the wrong kind of anger; it is a man-type of anger, not a God-type of anger.
Now back to Jonah...Basically, God wanted to know if Jonah was justly angry or just angry? What's the difference? The focus of the anger! In Jonah's case, he was hoping for an end to his enemies when he should have been hoping for an end to their wickedness. He was fixated on the end result from man’s perspective when he should have been hoping for an end to their sin from God's perspective.
What's at the end of your anger -- sin or sinners? When wickedness is the focus of our anger, it's a rightoues indignation; we are justly angry. (Check out Duet. 9 for an example of God's just anger against sin, not sinners.) But when people are at the end of our anger, then we're just angry; we're selfishly upset, not righteously indignant.
Bottom line? "Love the sinner, hate the sin." (Props to the old-time preachers I grew up on!)
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
chanCe and chanGe
One of the intriging things I find in Jonah occurs obscurely in the beginning of chapter three. As Jonah hears the word of the Lord a second time (another chanCe), he is expected to do things differently (a chanGe). And I can't help but think that these two concepts are linked! In fact, only one letter separates them!
Jonah's story helps me understand "chanCes" and "chanGes" better -- they come packaged together! The second chance I want is probably -- and rightly -- connected to the change I need. There must be a personal understanding that another opportunity (a second chanCe) should mean a different outcome (a chanGe).
When I keep those two linked, I'm much more likely to make good use of the second chanCes God gives me to chanGe my disobedience to obedience. And isn't that the point of a second chanCe -- to chanGe what I did the first time? You bet!
Ah, chanCe and chanGe...a powerful pair indeed!
Jonah's story helps me understand "chanCes" and "chanGes" better -- they come packaged together! The second chance I want is probably -- and rightly -- connected to the change I need. There must be a personal understanding that another opportunity (a second chanCe) should mean a different outcome (a chanGe).
When I keep those two linked, I'm much more likely to make good use of the second chanCes God gives me to chanGe my disobedience to obedience. And isn't that the point of a second chanCe -- to chanGe what I did the first time? You bet!
Ah, chanCe and chanGe...a powerful pair indeed!
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Where Does Compassion Come From?
Recently an attender of our church asked me, on the heels of our series opener from Jonah, “So how can I have a deeper compassion for people, especially those who are not like me?”
To be quite honest, I didn’t know what to say, for I, too, struggle with this – how can I increase in my love for others? So I just started praying right there on the spot for a 'word' that would be both biblical and practical, even while I was thanking him for his question. Sure enough, God’s Spirit was sufficient – he started showing me (in my mind’s eye) people that I had a great love for…men, women, kids, couples whom I had grown to spiritually ache for deeply. And as I thought about each of them, I realized it was their story that had turned my indifference to compassion. Yes, that’s what God used – their story!
Then various verses from the NT epistles began to flash across my mind that spoke of Paul’s love for the saints in various cities and how he knew their story. Whether it was one of poverty (Philippi), persecution (Rome and Thessalonica), or even pain (Corinth), Paul was aware of their journey to and with Christ, and it brought him to a place of intense compassion, even a godly type of jealousy for them. No wonder he consistently called his fellow believers his “joy, his longing, his crown.” He knew them and it helped him love them.
Then God reminded me of his story: An Almighty Creator sending his one-and-only Son to die for people who had no hope. That’s not just a story; that’s the story. The gospel! In that split-second, their stories and his story were merging. And I realized that those two things were common elements with all the people for whom I had a strong and deep compassion.
It began to dawn on me right there – hearing people’s story and knowing God’s story enables compassion to take toot and grow. It is how we begin to “exhort” (or lit., walk along beside) our spiritual family (1 Timothy 5:1). I had seen it in my own life, and I there was ample biblical evidence for the principle. So I shared this with my friend (who was probably wondering why I was stalling with pleasantries). I encouraged him to ask questions, listen closely, and dig for details. I reminded him not to parse words too quickly, but rather hear their heart. Relate to their struggle. "Draw out their story and the why behind it," I said. "You’ll find the seeds of compassion in the soil of their story. Watered with his story, God will move you from indifference to compassion, just as he has me in so many cases.” I then trusted the Spirit to enable him to receive my words with understanding and insight. Knowing this man, I am confident he did.
I’ve thought about that 2-minute encounter many times over the last month. Maybe it was a vision, perhaps just a mental reminder; either way, it became very clear to me that God uses, not only His story, but others’ story, to get me to a level of compassion that can make a difference. But that takes time. Ears. Questions. Actual conversation. Face to face communication. Listening. Then more time. Bigger ears. Deeper questions. And still more conversation.
No wonder there is so little real compassion in the American church of today -- There is very little face-to-face conversation that matters. Not a lot of deep communication. We don’t know each others’ story; we haven’t walked in their shoes, not even vicariously. Truth is, few people actually take time to sit down and listen to someone’s journey. After all, it’s an email world we live in, isn’t it? A blogging atmosphere. A “text-me-if-you-need-me” culture. And we wonder why we get irritated quicker. Frustrated faster. Judgmental and snappy in a heartbeat.
Here’s why: We don’t know their stories, and we have forgotten his story. But that’s where compassion lives – in the stories and in the story. Take the time today to hear one, as well as remember the best one. Then watch God sprout a seed of compassion that can make an eternal difference in the life of even just one.
To be quite honest, I didn’t know what to say, for I, too, struggle with this – how can I increase in my love for others? So I just started praying right there on the spot for a 'word' that would be both biblical and practical, even while I was thanking him for his question. Sure enough, God’s Spirit was sufficient – he started showing me (in my mind’s eye) people that I had a great love for…men, women, kids, couples whom I had grown to spiritually ache for deeply. And as I thought about each of them, I realized it was their story that had turned my indifference to compassion. Yes, that’s what God used – their story!
Then various verses from the NT epistles began to flash across my mind that spoke of Paul’s love for the saints in various cities and how he knew their story. Whether it was one of poverty (Philippi), persecution (Rome and Thessalonica), or even pain (Corinth), Paul was aware of their journey to and with Christ, and it brought him to a place of intense compassion, even a godly type of jealousy for them. No wonder he consistently called his fellow believers his “joy, his longing, his crown.” He knew them and it helped him love them.
Then God reminded me of his story: An Almighty Creator sending his one-and-only Son to die for people who had no hope. That’s not just a story; that’s the story. The gospel! In that split-second, their stories and his story were merging. And I realized that those two things were common elements with all the people for whom I had a strong and deep compassion.
It began to dawn on me right there – hearing people’s story and knowing God’s story enables compassion to take toot and grow. It is how we begin to “exhort” (or lit., walk along beside) our spiritual family (1 Timothy 5:1). I had seen it in my own life, and I there was ample biblical evidence for the principle. So I shared this with my friend (who was probably wondering why I was stalling with pleasantries). I encouraged him to ask questions, listen closely, and dig for details. I reminded him not to parse words too quickly, but rather hear their heart. Relate to their struggle. "Draw out their story and the why behind it," I said. "You’ll find the seeds of compassion in the soil of their story. Watered with his story, God will move you from indifference to compassion, just as he has me in so many cases.” I then trusted the Spirit to enable him to receive my words with understanding and insight. Knowing this man, I am confident he did.
I’ve thought about that 2-minute encounter many times over the last month. Maybe it was a vision, perhaps just a mental reminder; either way, it became very clear to me that God uses, not only His story, but others’ story, to get me to a level of compassion that can make a difference. But that takes time. Ears. Questions. Actual conversation. Face to face communication. Listening. Then more time. Bigger ears. Deeper questions. And still more conversation.
No wonder there is so little real compassion in the American church of today -- There is very little face-to-face conversation that matters. Not a lot of deep communication. We don’t know each others’ story; we haven’t walked in their shoes, not even vicariously. Truth is, few people actually take time to sit down and listen to someone’s journey. After all, it’s an email world we live in, isn’t it? A blogging atmosphere. A “text-me-if-you-need-me” culture. And we wonder why we get irritated quicker. Frustrated faster. Judgmental and snappy in a heartbeat.
Here’s why: We don’t know their stories, and we have forgotten his story. But that’s where compassion lives – in the stories and in the story. Take the time today to hear one, as well as remember the best one. Then watch God sprout a seed of compassion that can make an eternal difference in the life of even just one.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
My Kind of Prayer
Though I like the way Jonah prayed in Jonah 2:1 (“prayed”), I love the way he prayed in 2:2 (“called”). Let me explain.
The Hebrew word “pray” in 2:1 has more of an official sense to it. Nothing wrong with this kind of praying (like the secret kind of praying mentioned in Matthew 6), but it is just more routine. Scheduled. May be we call it disciplined praying.
The word “called” in 2:2 has the connotation of a 9-1-1 call attached to it. “This is an emergency!” is the idea behind this word. Maybe we call this disaster praying. And who of us hasn’t prayed that way, eh? Sure, we all have at times. Truth is, I have often discovered that disaster praying can often be my most effective communication in certain situations. I’m cutting to the chase and begging God for help! No pretense, show, or religious jargon; I’m drowning and all I can do is cry out, “Help me God!"
Kind of reminds me of the story of three pastors who, while at the office one day, were talking about prayer in general and the appropriate and effective positions for prayer. As they were talking, a telephone repairman was working on the phone system in the background. One of the pastors shared that he felt the key was in the hands. He always held his hands together and pointed them upward as a form of symbolic worship. The second suggested that real prayer was conducted on your knees. The third suggested that they both had it wrong--the only position worth its salt was to pray while stretched out flat on your face.
By this time the phone man couldn’t stay out of the conversation any longer. He interjected, "I found that the most powerful prayer I ever made was while I was dangling upside down by my heels from a power pole, suspended forty feet above the ground."
Jonah would agree.
The Hebrew word “pray” in 2:1 has more of an official sense to it. Nothing wrong with this kind of praying (like the secret kind of praying mentioned in Matthew 6), but it is just more routine. Scheduled. May be we call it disciplined praying.
The word “called” in 2:2 has the connotation of a 9-1-1 call attached to it. “This is an emergency!” is the idea behind this word. Maybe we call this disaster praying. And who of us hasn’t prayed that way, eh? Sure, we all have at times. Truth is, I have often discovered that disaster praying can often be my most effective communication in certain situations. I’m cutting to the chase and begging God for help! No pretense, show, or religious jargon; I’m drowning and all I can do is cry out, “Help me God!"
Kind of reminds me of the story of three pastors who, while at the office one day, were talking about prayer in general and the appropriate and effective positions for prayer. As they were talking, a telephone repairman was working on the phone system in the background. One of the pastors shared that he felt the key was in the hands. He always held his hands together and pointed them upward as a form of symbolic worship. The second suggested that real prayer was conducted on your knees. The third suggested that they both had it wrong--the only position worth its salt was to pray while stretched out flat on your face.
By this time the phone man couldn’t stay out of the conversation any longer. He interjected, "I found that the most powerful prayer I ever made was while I was dangling upside down by my heels from a power pole, suspended forty feet above the ground."
Jonah would agree.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
American Idol
Fox’s hit show “American Idol” just kicked off another season, and the title is more fitting to our country than most of us realize. Sure, Fox is spotlighting the next hidden music star – thus the title – but most of us do far more than that when it comes to american idols.
As one of our elders described in this past week’ study group, idols are far more prevalent than we realize. They’re not just a graven image or statue; they can be anything we place in front of God’s call to us … anything we run to that’s not in line with God’s will … things we obey that shouldn’t be obeyed … things we trust to save us instead of trusting and obeying Jesus. As Mark Driscoll notes, idols are nothing more than “functional saviors.” They provide a temporary and false sense of security no doubt, but nonetheless, we continue to turn to them. And many of us have more of these “functional saviors” than we want to admit.
Jonah had one: the ship! And he referred to it in chapter 2 when he talked about “clinging to worthless idols.” Or “vain” idols as another translation puts it. Either way, the sailing vessel was Jonah’s “functional savior.” Jonah trusted the ship to save him. To hide him. To take him where no one could find him. The ship was his escape; his getaway from God. In a word, his idol.
I’ve got some. And so do you. Things like food, shopping, exercise, control, possessions…you can take it from here. Regardless of the name you put on it, it’s really an idol. And it’s worthless to actually save you. They’re no different than that ship headed to Tarshish – useless and vain.
And the end result? The bottom of the sea. Clinging to a "worthless" idol only leaves us crushed and crashed. Instead of following the idol to the end of the line, let's abandon our "functional saviors" and run to the only True and Faithful Savior -- Jesus!
As one of our elders described in this past week’ study group, idols are far more prevalent than we realize. They’re not just a graven image or statue; they can be anything we place in front of God’s call to us … anything we run to that’s not in line with God’s will … things we obey that shouldn’t be obeyed … things we trust to save us instead of trusting and obeying Jesus. As Mark Driscoll notes, idols are nothing more than “functional saviors.” They provide a temporary and false sense of security no doubt, but nonetheless, we continue to turn to them. And many of us have more of these “functional saviors” than we want to admit.
Jonah had one: the ship! And he referred to it in chapter 2 when he talked about “clinging to worthless idols.” Or “vain” idols as another translation puts it. Either way, the sailing vessel was Jonah’s “functional savior.” Jonah trusted the ship to save him. To hide him. To take him where no one could find him. The ship was his escape; his getaway from God. In a word, his idol.
I’ve got some. And so do you. Things like food, shopping, exercise, control, possessions…you can take it from here. Regardless of the name you put on it, it’s really an idol. And it’s worthless to actually save you. They’re no different than that ship headed to Tarshish – useless and vain.
And the end result? The bottom of the sea. Clinging to a "worthless" idol only leaves us crushed and crashed. Instead of following the idol to the end of the line, let's abandon our "functional saviors" and run to the only True and Faithful Savior -- Jesus!
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
But God!
I bet Jonah loves big fish! Oh, maybe he didn't prior to being engulfed whole, but afterward? You know he did! How could he not once he realized that the one who swallowed him was actually his lifeline. Only hope. Salvation. A God-send of mammal-like grace!
That great fish is the "But God" of Jonah's life. It's when God stepped in and interrupted things for no other reason than God's own mercy and grace. No doubt the fish is a picture of salvation -- God's grace undeserved. It is truly the "But God" moment that redefined who he was. Isn't that what God does -- redefine us? He interrupts us in a way that never leaves us the same. Hallelujah!
Remember your "But God" moment? I do. Not only the prime one -- when God saved me in 1978 -- but also other ones when God gracefully injected himself into my stubborneess and pride to further along my sanctification. Ah, gotta love all those divine interruptions. (And I'm sure there are more on the way!)
As you think about yours (past, present, and future), check out these articles/links about some other "But God" passages in the New Testament, like Romans 5:6-8 and Ephesians 2:1-7.
http://www.desiringgod.org/ResourceLibrary/Sermons/ByDate/1985/523_But_God/
http://www.raystedman.org/ephesians/3009.html
http://www.boundlessline.org/2008/08/but-god.html
They will really increase your gratitude for the "great fish of grace" that interupted your life. And I'm sure it's a whale of a tale!
That great fish is the "But God" of Jonah's life. It's when God stepped in and interrupted things for no other reason than God's own mercy and grace. No doubt the fish is a picture of salvation -- God's grace undeserved. It is truly the "But God" moment that redefined who he was. Isn't that what God does -- redefine us? He interrupts us in a way that never leaves us the same. Hallelujah!
Remember your "But God" moment? I do. Not only the prime one -- when God saved me in 1978 -- but also other ones when God gracefully injected himself into my stubborneess and pride to further along my sanctification. Ah, gotta love all those divine interruptions. (And I'm sure there are more on the way!)
As you think about yours (past, present, and future), check out these articles/links about some other "But God" passages in the New Testament, like Romans 5:6-8 and Ephesians 2:1-7.
http://www.desiringgod.org/ResourceLibrary/Sermons/ByDate/1985/523_But_God/
http://www.raystedman.org/ephesians/3009.html
http://www.boundlessline.org/2008/08/but-god.html
They will really increase your gratitude for the "great fish of grace" that interupted your life. And I'm sure it's a whale of a tale!
Monday, January 12, 2009
The End is Where It Begins
God hears us best when we are at our worst. And I’m sure the belly of a great fish was the worst praying environment Jonah could imagine. Yet, it was exactly where he needed to be: the end of his rope. That’s where God wants us – at our end! But the end is the one thing we avoid at all costs. Perhaps that’s why so few of us really have powerful prayer lives – we’re rarely at the end of ourselves!
Remember the prodigal son? Luke records that his best decision occurred “when he came to the end of himself.” Yes, his decision to go back home was only reached when he finally saw how far away he truly was. Let’s remember that the way back starts with this fact: God hears me no matter how far away I am or how deep down I go. And he always meets me right there –at the end of myself. That’s where he wants me, for then he can take me back home his way, not my way.
Remember the prodigal son? Luke records that his best decision occurred “when he came to the end of himself.” Yes, his decision to go back home was only reached when he finally saw how far away he truly was. Let’s remember that the way back starts with this fact: God hears me no matter how far away I am or how deep down I go. And he always meets me right there –at the end of myself. That’s where he wants me, for then he can take me back home his way, not my way.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Ways We Run
Running from God isn’t always easy to spot. It’s not like we wear a sign that says, “Running from God. Watch out!” So what does it look like in 2009?
Perhaps we run by staying busy. You know, the ole’ overcommitted syndrome.
Or maybe running is seen in how we avoid others. Or issues. It’s hard to deal with something or someone if you never face it.
I think sometimes running is seen in how we try and control others. If we’re louder…stronger…bigger…well, maybe that will just keep them down.
Running is probably evidenced by discontentment, a strange restlessness that indicates we “still haven’t found what we’re looking for.” So we chase the latest trend or fad. But we’re really not chasing anything; we’re running away from something.
Regardless of how it is seen, it happens. And probably in all kinds of ways. I just hope to be able to spot it quickly in my life so I won’t find myself in the belly of a great fish! That’s not where I want my running to take me! :)
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Why We Run (2)
When we run from God, it reveals something about us. It is an outward indication that something is wrong inside. What was Jonah running from? What was he afraid of? Success! And I don’t mean an external type of “I made it” image. I’m talking about success in what matters most – soul success. He knew that God’s salvation would override the sin of the city, and instead of embracing the inevitable spiritual success of others, he sabotaged it by running. What a shame that when God needed a missionary, Jonah went AWOL and was more like a “missing-ary.”
Why We Run
What made Jonah run from God? Think about it – when he heard God call, he went the opposite direction of the place to which he was called. And fast! He ran from God’s will, not to God’s will.
Without going into the details of the book, I think Jonah ran for many of the same reasons we run: fear! But what was he afraid of? Personally, I think he may have been afraid of…
… the size of his assignment. Jonah was a prophet in the northern kingdom (Israel) during a time when there was lots of success. There wasn’t much spiritual depth during those years under Jeroboam II, but at least he was doing what he knew how to do to in a place that was “comfortable.” His work as a prophet among his people was something he could get his hands around. But when the call to Nineveh came, I think the magnitude of this call was more than he expected.
… the location of his mission. Nineveh was the capital of Israel’s enemy, Assyria, and they were known for their terror and inhumane torture, especially toward the enemies. ‘Nuff said.
… the opinion of others. A rebellious nation like Israel would not respond well to the news that their prophet was going to preach to their enemies. And Jonah wasn’t probably looking forward to the scorn he would get by doing this.
… the nature of God. If Jonah knew, after he delivered the news of Yahweh, that God’s judgment was immediate, he probably would have gone. But he knew God was compassionate and merciful, and that if repentance was the response of the Ninevites, God would forgive them. And he didn’t want that! Can’t you hear him – “I knew this would happen!” So he ran!
Sounds like me. Us! I’ve run because I have been afraid of those kinds of things as well, haven’t you? Something seems too big. Too risky. Too miraculous. Too dangerous. So we run. It’s a sure sign we’re scared. Afraid. Oh, that I’d learn to run to the call, not from it. That I’d chase obedience, not comfort. That I’d follow hard after God, not try and hide from him.
Next time I want to run out of fear, I think I’ll run out of fear. (No, that’s not a typo).
Without going into the details of the book, I think Jonah ran for many of the same reasons we run: fear! But what was he afraid of? Personally, I think he may have been afraid of…
… the size of his assignment. Jonah was a prophet in the northern kingdom (Israel) during a time when there was lots of success. There wasn’t much spiritual depth during those years under Jeroboam II, but at least he was doing what he knew how to do to in a place that was “comfortable.” His work as a prophet among his people was something he could get his hands around. But when the call to Nineveh came, I think the magnitude of this call was more than he expected.
… the location of his mission. Nineveh was the capital of Israel’s enemy, Assyria, and they were known for their terror and inhumane torture, especially toward the enemies. ‘Nuff said.
… the opinion of others. A rebellious nation like Israel would not respond well to the news that their prophet was going to preach to their enemies. And Jonah wasn’t probably looking forward to the scorn he would get by doing this.
… the nature of God. If Jonah knew, after he delivered the news of Yahweh, that God’s judgment was immediate, he probably would have gone. But he knew God was compassionate and merciful, and that if repentance was the response of the Ninevites, God would forgive them. And he didn’t want that! Can’t you hear him – “I knew this would happen!” So he ran!
Sounds like me. Us! I’ve run because I have been afraid of those kinds of things as well, haven’t you? Something seems too big. Too risky. Too miraculous. Too dangerous. So we run. It’s a sure sign we’re scared. Afraid. Oh, that I’d learn to run to the call, not from it. That I’d chase obedience, not comfort. That I’d follow hard after God, not try and hide from him.
Next time I want to run out of fear, I think I’ll run out of fear. (No, that’s not a typo).
Friday, January 2, 2009
One Little Book...One Big Prayer
Jonah, one of 12 minor prophets in the Old Testament, is a book of only 48 verses. That’s shorter than some chapters in the Bible! Yet, this little book contains a massive message: God values people – all people – and he wants us to value them as well, especially those who do not yet know him!
For my fellow FFC-ers, I am praying this message will blanket us individually and collectively. I am praying we see people, more than ever, just like God does! And if my guesstimate is correct, when we’re done with this series, you’ll probably agree with me that this will have been our greatest emphasis yet on evangelism and compassion. And for a church who has been outreach-focused from the beginning, whose constant posture is a set of outstretched arms, whose DNA is marked with Matthew 28:19-20, that is saying something!
But that won’t happen without a price: Many of us will find ourselves exposed! We’ll discover that our reasons for being quiet or uninvolved or lazy are actually only excuses. God will do to us what he did to Jonah – he will bring us to the mirror of himself and say, “Love like me.”
God was bringing Jonah to that place! To that place where he could no longer hide, no longer run, no longer wander from what God was doing to him and through him. God was performing a heart transplant in Jonah! You see, Nineveh was already in God’s heart, and he was making sure Nineveh got in Jonah’s heart. That’s’ right – God was putting people in the right place on Jonah’s priority list. God was helping Jonah value the right things – people!
This spiritual surgery is highlighted in the last two verses of the book (Jonah 4:10-11), and these two verses tie it all together and give us a glimpse into what God was doing all along.
“But the Lord said, ‘You have been concerned about this vine, though you did not tend it or make it grow. It sprang up overnight and died overnight. But Nineveh has more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell their right hand from their left, and many cattle as well. Should I not be concerned about that great city?’"
It’s a rhetorical question, and the answer is a resounding, “Yes!” And so should we!
Oddly, we don’t know the end result of this spiritual surgery; Scripture never tells us how Jonah responded. But we do know the heartbeat of the surgeon, don’t we? God values people, and he wants us to as well. Yes, he wanted to redeem Nineveh, but he also wanted to refine Jonah. That’s what God does, isn’t it? And I’m praying God will do both to and through me and you – redeem and refine!
For my fellow FFC-ers, I am praying this message will blanket us individually and collectively. I am praying we see people, more than ever, just like God does! And if my guesstimate is correct, when we’re done with this series, you’ll probably agree with me that this will have been our greatest emphasis yet on evangelism and compassion. And for a church who has been outreach-focused from the beginning, whose constant posture is a set of outstretched arms, whose DNA is marked with Matthew 28:19-20, that is saying something!
But that won’t happen without a price: Many of us will find ourselves exposed! We’ll discover that our reasons for being quiet or uninvolved or lazy are actually only excuses. God will do to us what he did to Jonah – he will bring us to the mirror of himself and say, “Love like me.”
God was bringing Jonah to that place! To that place where he could no longer hide, no longer run, no longer wander from what God was doing to him and through him. God was performing a heart transplant in Jonah! You see, Nineveh was already in God’s heart, and he was making sure Nineveh got in Jonah’s heart. That’s’ right – God was putting people in the right place on Jonah’s priority list. God was helping Jonah value the right things – people!
This spiritual surgery is highlighted in the last two verses of the book (Jonah 4:10-11), and these two verses tie it all together and give us a glimpse into what God was doing all along.
“But the Lord said, ‘You have been concerned about this vine, though you did not tend it or make it grow. It sprang up overnight and died overnight. But Nineveh has more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell their right hand from their left, and many cattle as well. Should I not be concerned about that great city?’"
It’s a rhetorical question, and the answer is a resounding, “Yes!” And so should we!
Oddly, we don’t know the end result of this spiritual surgery; Scripture never tells us how Jonah responded. But we do know the heartbeat of the surgeon, don’t we? God values people, and he wants us to as well. Yes, he wanted to redeem Nineveh, but he also wanted to refine Jonah. That’s what God does, isn’t it? And I’m praying God will do both to and through me and you – redeem and refine!
Thursday, January 1, 2009
This Year
Call them commitments. Call them decisions. I like to say that, for believers, new year’s resolutions are God’s continuing sanctification process in seasonal terms. That’s why we put the prefix ‘new year’ onto many of them.
For me, I have been sensing God’s work in two main areas for some time, and I know he is going to concentrate on these two things in the coming months: Less indecision, more compassion. That’s my New Year’s Resolutions.
And yes, I think these two are tied together at times. Often I’ll see a situation and know deep inside I ought to do something (the kind of compassion described in 1 John 3:18), but too often I analyze myself right out of action. I debate the circumstances and evaluate people’s motives while I’m deciding (actually while I’m choosing not to decide – indecision!), and usually by the time I have tried to think through every angle, I have simply missed an opportunity.
And don’t think compassion only means an ‘emo’ response that makes someone drop a dollar in the homeless man’s bucket. I’m talking about the kind of compassion that yes, loosens my grip on things, but more likely tightens my grip on relationships. Yep, the kind of compassion that makes the call, writes the letter, drafts the email, or says the word…
…to the friend who is struggling spiritually but you never want to talk about it ‘cause you know it might get messy. Take more of your time. But deciding to get compassionate may be the best decision you could make for both of you in 2009.
…to the family down the street who just got bad news about an illness, a lay off…something like that. Yep, it may mean you’ll be asked for help, advice, a ride. But what’s wrong with that? Avoiding them just allows the selfishness to sink deeper. Decide to get compassionate and ask two simple questions: “What’s going on?” and “How can I help?”
…to the “stranger” who just happened to bring up the topic of church while you were checking out at the bank or store or restaurant. The best compassion is to help them make a step towards the right kind of church. So don’t shrug off the opportunity or sail by with some weak line about “religion” in general. Tell them your story and encourage them to get involved in yours. Decide to get truly compassionate about the expressed need and invite them to church. You never know what one invitation might do.
So there you have it -- My New Year’s Resolutions. My 2009 goals. My annual commitments. I just look forward to seeing how God is going to deepen my character this year as his sanctification process continues no matter what we call it.
For me, I have been sensing God’s work in two main areas for some time, and I know he is going to concentrate on these two things in the coming months: Less indecision, more compassion. That’s my New Year’s Resolutions.
And yes, I think these two are tied together at times. Often I’ll see a situation and know deep inside I ought to do something (the kind of compassion described in 1 John 3:18), but too often I analyze myself right out of action. I debate the circumstances and evaluate people’s motives while I’m deciding (actually while I’m choosing not to decide – indecision!), and usually by the time I have tried to think through every angle, I have simply missed an opportunity.
And don’t think compassion only means an ‘emo’ response that makes someone drop a dollar in the homeless man’s bucket. I’m talking about the kind of compassion that yes, loosens my grip on things, but more likely tightens my grip on relationships. Yep, the kind of compassion that makes the call, writes the letter, drafts the email, or says the word…
…to the friend who is struggling spiritually but you never want to talk about it ‘cause you know it might get messy. Take more of your time. But deciding to get compassionate may be the best decision you could make for both of you in 2009.
…to the family down the street who just got bad news about an illness, a lay off…something like that. Yep, it may mean you’ll be asked for help, advice, a ride. But what’s wrong with that? Avoiding them just allows the selfishness to sink deeper. Decide to get compassionate and ask two simple questions: “What’s going on?” and “How can I help?”
…to the “stranger” who just happened to bring up the topic of church while you were checking out at the bank or store or restaurant. The best compassion is to help them make a step towards the right kind of church. So don’t shrug off the opportunity or sail by with some weak line about “religion” in general. Tell them your story and encourage them to get involved in yours. Decide to get truly compassionate about the expressed need and invite them to church. You never know what one invitation might do.
So there you have it -- My New Year’s Resolutions. My 2009 goals. My annual commitments. I just look forward to seeing how God is going to deepen my character this year as his sanctification process continues no matter what we call it.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Love That Toyota!
We were all set – all 5 of us – to leave for MI in our van. Yeah, the one that seats 7. Then, late on the evening before we were to leave as I was driving the van home from watching a movie with Brett, I heard a squeaky noise and noticed the battery light coming on. And it happened more than once. I knew what this meant: no van for the 10-hour trip. We five were taking the little Toyota.
Now understand what this means in 2009, because it doesn’t mean what it meant in 1976 when my parents piled me and my sisters into their Toyota. We didn’t have iPods and MP3 players, portable DVD players, cell phones, blue tooth sets, head phones, ear buds, Gameboys and DSes … shall I go on? I haven’t even mentioned the luggage yet. Back then, we just got in. Today, it’s like we move in.
You get the picture, don’t you? Boy, was it crowded! And by our own choice –we’re the ones voluntarily addicted to non-stop communication devices and audio stimulation of all types. But we all got settled in and started on our way – full electronics store and all!
I'll skip the details of each mile and simply tell you, believe it or not, we were just fine. Both there and back! 20 hours in the non-van (which is rare these days for a family of more than four) didn’t kill us. It didn’t even injure us! Truth is, it did us a world of good. You’d be surprised how grateful everyone was when we returned. And not just for the van; for each other. No kidding! You know, sometimes tight spaces can lead to happy faces.
The next day I asked the kids if they were okay with me renting out the main floor of our home, as well as the upstairs, and moving all of us to the basement. I’ll let you know what they say.
Now understand what this means in 2009, because it doesn’t mean what it meant in 1976 when my parents piled me and my sisters into their Toyota. We didn’t have iPods and MP3 players, portable DVD players, cell phones, blue tooth sets, head phones, ear buds, Gameboys and DSes … shall I go on? I haven’t even mentioned the luggage yet. Back then, we just got in. Today, it’s like we move in.
You get the picture, don’t you? Boy, was it crowded! And by our own choice –we’re the ones voluntarily addicted to non-stop communication devices and audio stimulation of all types. But we all got settled in and started on our way – full electronics store and all!
I'll skip the details of each mile and simply tell you, believe it or not, we were just fine. Both there and back! 20 hours in the non-van (which is rare these days for a family of more than four) didn’t kill us. It didn’t even injure us! Truth is, it did us a world of good. You’d be surprised how grateful everyone was when we returned. And not just for the van; for each other. No kidding! You know, sometimes tight spaces can lead to happy faces.
The next day I asked the kids if they were okay with me renting out the main floor of our home, as well as the upstairs, and moving all of us to the basement. I’ll let you know what they say.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Gene Power
Okay, here’s the scoop: I’m sitting in my in-laws home in Michigan watching our kids and their cousins, and I’d swear we were the parents of five kids not four. What do I mean? Simply this – my brother-in-laws son Micah could pass for our daughter Breanna’s twin brother! They act alike, look alike, respond alike…they are a lot alike! A LOT! Both have a bent towards the artistic and creative, both play multiple instruments, and both like to sing, to name a few similarities. It was far more than just the physical traits; the similarities were noticeable even below the surface (way below the surface).
As I was watching them talk and laugh, I was overwhelmed, in both good and not-so-good ways. Genes seem to pass on more than color, height, personality, and structure. They seem to pass on tendencies. Bents. Preferences. Subconscious ways and manners. I may not be scientifically correct or biologically accurate, but what I saw in Breanna and Micah was uncanny. It was cool to see our “family tree” show up like that. Oh, the joy of gene power!
Sure, I know there is the environmental factor when it comes to immediate families (i.e., we pick up the habits of others because we’re with them a lot), but these two spend very little time together in the course of a year. Yet, they were strikingly connected. Genetically twin-like in way more ways than the physical. I remember nudging Julie while they were interacting, and we both just chuckled. Actually, we laughed. Then we raised our eyebrows, knowing exactly what the other meant: we’ve passed on some other things, too! Yikes!
That was the not-so-cool second when we both felt the weight of gene power. I may not can explain it, and I may not like it all the time, but my good and not-so-good traits, seen and unseen tendencies, inner and outer responses, well, there’s a rope tied to them, and one end is somehow strapped to my kids. Maybe not forever and maybe not too tightly. But far more than the physical is being passed on, know what I mean? Wow! That’s a load to wrap your arms around.
Sometimes there's things I don't want to pass on. Ever felt like that? When you know how much you struggle, how quick you are to run the wrong way, how prone you are to evil, how far you went before God rescued you…whew, I don’t want to pass on those appetites. Tendencies. Habits.
Yet, I do want to pass on so much. The heritage of my and Julie’s parents. The legacy of God’s work throughout generations. Our passion for family and God’s kingdom. Our love for one another and the value of a forever commitment. I want those things to keep going and going and going and going. Like an Energizer Bunny gene trait that never stops.
Can I have one (the good) without the other (the not-so-good)? Pleeaasseee? For some reason I don’t think gene power discriminates or dissects; it just distributes. My job, I guess, is to help my kids know how to handle that rope. When to cut it, when to hold on, when to leave a little slack.
But even gene power has some irony, for one day one of my kids will see one of their kids acting like their grandparents, and they’ll have the same thought -- “That’s uncanny.” And when that happens, Julie and I will laugh again. Only this time louder.
As I was watching them talk and laugh, I was overwhelmed, in both good and not-so-good ways. Genes seem to pass on more than color, height, personality, and structure. They seem to pass on tendencies. Bents. Preferences. Subconscious ways and manners. I may not be scientifically correct or biologically accurate, but what I saw in Breanna and Micah was uncanny. It was cool to see our “family tree” show up like that. Oh, the joy of gene power!
Sure, I know there is the environmental factor when it comes to immediate families (i.e., we pick up the habits of others because we’re with them a lot), but these two spend very little time together in the course of a year. Yet, they were strikingly connected. Genetically twin-like in way more ways than the physical. I remember nudging Julie while they were interacting, and we both just chuckled. Actually, we laughed. Then we raised our eyebrows, knowing exactly what the other meant: we’ve passed on some other things, too! Yikes!
That was the not-so-cool second when we both felt the weight of gene power. I may not can explain it, and I may not like it all the time, but my good and not-so-good traits, seen and unseen tendencies, inner and outer responses, well, there’s a rope tied to them, and one end is somehow strapped to my kids. Maybe not forever and maybe not too tightly. But far more than the physical is being passed on, know what I mean? Wow! That’s a load to wrap your arms around.
Sometimes there's things I don't want to pass on. Ever felt like that? When you know how much you struggle, how quick you are to run the wrong way, how prone you are to evil, how far you went before God rescued you…whew, I don’t want to pass on those appetites. Tendencies. Habits.
Yet, I do want to pass on so much. The heritage of my and Julie’s parents. The legacy of God’s work throughout generations. Our passion for family and God’s kingdom. Our love for one another and the value of a forever commitment. I want those things to keep going and going and going and going. Like an Energizer Bunny gene trait that never stops.
Can I have one (the good) without the other (the not-so-good)? Pleeaasseee? For some reason I don’t think gene power discriminates or dissects; it just distributes. My job, I guess, is to help my kids know how to handle that rope. When to cut it, when to hold on, when to leave a little slack.
But even gene power has some irony, for one day one of my kids will see one of their kids acting like their grandparents, and they’ll have the same thought -- “That’s uncanny.” And when that happens, Julie and I will laugh again. Only this time louder.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
The "Withusness" of God
I have been reflecting on the name Immanuel. The phrase “God with us.” Those three incredible words that teach us about our Lord’s “with-us-ness.” And my mind and heart have been massaged by the truth contained in them. Follow along for a minute…
“God” expresses the truth of Deity. Yes, at Christmas, God came near. It wasn’t merely a prophet or just a good man that descended to earth. It was God. And it wasn’t a son of God, but the Son of God. That’s who Jesus is – God! What a truth to celebrate: That at Christmas, Deity came to earth!
“Us” expresses the truth of humanity. At Christmas, Jesus became one of us! Not just someone close to us, or someone kind of like us. No, he became one of us in every way, even someone lower on the cultural chain than what most of us would want to be. He became a servant! Ah, the incarnation – God becoming flesh! It’s at the heart of Christmas!
Philippians 2:6-7 gives us a further glimpse into God's "withusness" when it says, “[Jesus], being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness...”
Here's the best part: Combine deity and humanity and something supernatural is available for the rest of us: Eternity!
Think about it -- Isn’t “God with us” the Nativity in a nutshell? You bet! God’s “withusness” should be the fundamental motivation for celebrating this season. Make no mistake: Eternity is possible because Deity and humanity came together! Yes, “God with us” means that for all who believe, it is “us with God” forever! Truly, once we believe the truth about Immanuel, these words hold great promise no matter the order. What a reason to celebrate “God with us” – that “us with God” is now a possibility!
“God” expresses the truth of Deity. Yes, at Christmas, God came near. It wasn’t merely a prophet or just a good man that descended to earth. It was God. And it wasn’t a son of God, but the Son of God. That’s who Jesus is – God! What a truth to celebrate: That at Christmas, Deity came to earth!
“Us” expresses the truth of humanity. At Christmas, Jesus became one of us! Not just someone close to us, or someone kind of like us. No, he became one of us in every way, even someone lower on the cultural chain than what most of us would want to be. He became a servant! Ah, the incarnation – God becoming flesh! It’s at the heart of Christmas!
Philippians 2:6-7 gives us a further glimpse into God's "withusness" when it says, “[Jesus], being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness...”
Here's the best part: Combine deity and humanity and something supernatural is available for the rest of us: Eternity!
Think about it -- Isn’t “God with us” the Nativity in a nutshell? You bet! God’s “withusness” should be the fundamental motivation for celebrating this season. Make no mistake: Eternity is possible because Deity and humanity came together! Yes, “God with us” means that for all who believe, it is “us with God” forever! Truly, once we believe the truth about Immanuel, these words hold great promise no matter the order. What a reason to celebrate “God with us” – that “us with God” is now a possibility!
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Christmas Irony
When it comes to Nativity scenes and Christmas plays, I think the least favorite part to play is probably a shepherd. In the few re-enactments I remember (and I use that word loosely), there weren’t many, if any, of us boys scrambling for the staff. We were after the roles of Joseph, the wise men, or Gabriel. Shepherds weren’t high on our list.
Ironically, that’s pretty close to the way things were viewed in the first Nativity. Shepherding wasn’t the occupation of choice. They weren’t known for their spirituality, only because the nature of their profession – and “unclean” one – kept them from observing the ceremonial law of sacrifices and offerings.
Additionally, the attire that such a job demanded wasn’t exactly on the cover of Jerusalem GQ! Externally, shepherds struggled to gain any type of cultural class.
Furthermore, shepherds had a reputation that was, at best, questionable. “Stories from the hillside” flooded towns and villages, and often the facts grew into legend. The result? They became a group of citizens others considered unreliable. In fact, according to the Talmud, they weren’t allowed to give testimony in the courts as a witness.
See what I mean? Shepherds were seen as monotonously simple. Not sophisticated. Not stylish. Not refined. Not complex or intricate.
Just plain. Simple. Routine. Shepherds.
I think, however, that’s exactly why God selected shepherds as the first testifiers – witnesses – of his Son’s birth: They wouldn’t complicate the issue! Others thought shepherds couldn't get it; God knew they wouldn't miss it.
It's what I call Christmas irony. And it's just one of many in the Nativity – a virgin is pregnant, a baby is the King, an army (of angels) announces peace, and shepherds are compelled to be the first sharers.
That's the God of Christmas irony at his best!
Ironically, that’s pretty close to the way things were viewed in the first Nativity. Shepherding wasn’t the occupation of choice. They weren’t known for their spirituality, only because the nature of their profession – and “unclean” one – kept them from observing the ceremonial law of sacrifices and offerings.
Additionally, the attire that such a job demanded wasn’t exactly on the cover of Jerusalem GQ! Externally, shepherds struggled to gain any type of cultural class.
Furthermore, shepherds had a reputation that was, at best, questionable. “Stories from the hillside” flooded towns and villages, and often the facts grew into legend. The result? They became a group of citizens others considered unreliable. In fact, according to the Talmud, they weren’t allowed to give testimony in the courts as a witness.
See what I mean? Shepherds were seen as monotonously simple. Not sophisticated. Not stylish. Not refined. Not complex or intricate.
Just plain. Simple. Routine. Shepherds.
I think, however, that’s exactly why God selected shepherds as the first testifiers – witnesses – of his Son’s birth: They wouldn’t complicate the issue! Others thought shepherds couldn't get it; God knew they wouldn't miss it.
It's what I call Christmas irony. And it's just one of many in the Nativity – a virgin is pregnant, a baby is the King, an army (of angels) announces peace, and shepherds are compelled to be the first sharers.
That's the God of Christmas irony at his best!
It's Level at the Manger
One of my favorite symbolic lessons in the Nativity is who was there: both wise men and shepherds. Sure, they came at different times and to different places, but they still came. And both were accepted and welcomed!
People from the two ends of the social spectrum -- Kingly advisors and animal watchers! Yet, cultural status and human standing weren’t an issue, because it wasn’t about them. It was about the baby. It was about the Messiah. Jesus. So who they were didn’t matter; who he was is all that mattered.
And it’s still that way today! No matter who we are – whether high or low in the human hierarchy – who he is enables “whosoever will” to come. God welcomes all who believe! What a comforting thought to know the ground at the manger is completely level.
People from the two ends of the social spectrum -- Kingly advisors and animal watchers! Yet, cultural status and human standing weren’t an issue, because it wasn’t about them. It was about the baby. It was about the Messiah. Jesus. So who they were didn’t matter; who he was is all that mattered.
And it’s still that way today! No matter who we are – whether high or low in the human hierarchy – who he is enables “whosoever will” to come. God welcomes all who believe! What a comforting thought to know the ground at the manger is completely level.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Missing the Obvious
One of the things I love about the shepherds in the Christmas story is their ability to spot the obvious.
Think about it – when they heard the angel encourage them to go see the newborn baby, they responded by saying to one another, “Let’s go!” I probably would have tried to figure out if it really was an angel; maybe I would have called a meeting to discuss if angelic appearances are viable, spiritual phenomenon for today; or perhaps I would have exegeted the angel’s announcement so that we really understand what he was saying in his original language; I might have even developed a 15-step action plan for carrying out the angel’s instructions. In some “spiritual” way I would have probably tried to “look deeper.” After all, you can’t fool me! Yeah, right. I would have missed the obvious.
When the shepherds got to the manger, they saw just what they had been told they would see: the face of God – Jesus! It wasn’t a hard sell for the sheep watchers who had just left a concert of angels. It was obvious. Truth was right before their eyes. What they heard was exactly what they saw. That’s pretty plain and simple. Pretty obvious.
Maybe that’s why God first told shepherds: he knew they wouldn’t miss the obvious.
Too often we miss the obvious, don’t we? I do. Sometimes the plainest things, well, I turn them into the hardest things. Why? Because I’m not paying attention.
For instance, just because I’m looking at Julie doesn’t mean I’m seeing Julie. Just because I’m hearing her doesn’t mean I’m listening to her. Believe it or not, there’s a scientific name for missing the obvious: change blindness.
This is a well-documented phenomenon in the area of Cognitive Psychology, and it occurs when large changes in a picture go undetected by the observer because they occur at the same time as a brief visual disruption, such as a blink of the eye or a brief disruption on the screen.
You’ve experienced this when you’ve tried your hand at spotting the differences in two pictures. Each time you move your eyes to the other picture – or blink, or look away – then that slight disruption often causes you to experience “change blindness.” And while you eventually see the 6, 7 or 10 differences, it usually takes a while to overcome change blindness. And if you’re like me, once you’ve spotted all the differences, you can’t believe you missed them in the first place!
[NOTE: Here’s a site where you can read more about Change Blindness and even try your hand (or should I say ‘eyes’) at it: http://www.usd.edu/psyc301/Rensink.htm. I want to warn you, though: once you spot the obvious difference, you’ll laugh. But until you do, you’ll probably be a little frustrated.]
Sometimes I think we experience a spiritual version of Change Blindness – we miss obvious truth! Why? Same reason – we’re not paying attention. This Christmas, let’s pay attention. The Truth in the manger is starring us in the face; don’t miss it. The Good News is being sung in carols everywhere; don’t miss it. His name actually makes up more than 2/3rds of the holiday title – CHRISTmas; don’t miss it!
“This Christmas, Lord, give me the eyes of a shepherd so that I see the obvious.”
Think about it – when they heard the angel encourage them to go see the newborn baby, they responded by saying to one another, “Let’s go!” I probably would have tried to figure out if it really was an angel; maybe I would have called a meeting to discuss if angelic appearances are viable, spiritual phenomenon for today; or perhaps I would have exegeted the angel’s announcement so that we really understand what he was saying in his original language; I might have even developed a 15-step action plan for carrying out the angel’s instructions. In some “spiritual” way I would have probably tried to “look deeper.” After all, you can’t fool me! Yeah, right. I would have missed the obvious.
When the shepherds got to the manger, they saw just what they had been told they would see: the face of God – Jesus! It wasn’t a hard sell for the sheep watchers who had just left a concert of angels. It was obvious. Truth was right before their eyes. What they heard was exactly what they saw. That’s pretty plain and simple. Pretty obvious.
Maybe that’s why God first told shepherds: he knew they wouldn’t miss the obvious.
Too often we miss the obvious, don’t we? I do. Sometimes the plainest things, well, I turn them into the hardest things. Why? Because I’m not paying attention.
For instance, just because I’m looking at Julie doesn’t mean I’m seeing Julie. Just because I’m hearing her doesn’t mean I’m listening to her. Believe it or not, there’s a scientific name for missing the obvious: change blindness.
This is a well-documented phenomenon in the area of Cognitive Psychology, and it occurs when large changes in a picture go undetected by the observer because they occur at the same time as a brief visual disruption, such as a blink of the eye or a brief disruption on the screen.
You’ve experienced this when you’ve tried your hand at spotting the differences in two pictures. Each time you move your eyes to the other picture – or blink, or look away – then that slight disruption often causes you to experience “change blindness.” And while you eventually see the 6, 7 or 10 differences, it usually takes a while to overcome change blindness. And if you’re like me, once you’ve spotted all the differences, you can’t believe you missed them in the first place!
[NOTE: Here’s a site where you can read more about Change Blindness and even try your hand (or should I say ‘eyes’) at it: http://www.usd.edu/psyc301/Rensink.htm. I want to warn you, though: once you spot the obvious difference, you’ll laugh. But until you do, you’ll probably be a little frustrated.]
Sometimes I think we experience a spiritual version of Change Blindness – we miss obvious truth! Why? Same reason – we’re not paying attention. This Christmas, let’s pay attention. The Truth in the manger is starring us in the face; don’t miss it. The Good News is being sung in carols everywhere; don’t miss it. His name actually makes up more than 2/3rds of the holiday title – CHRISTmas; don’t miss it!
“This Christmas, Lord, give me the eyes of a shepherd so that I see the obvious.”
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
The Details of December
I’ve never been the sharpest mind on the block, but I can notice repeated patterns if given a fair shake. And the “shake” of budgets and schedules during this time of the year– whether seasonal, relational, or occupational – has shown me something about my own relationships and leadership in times of intense details. Let me explain.
Here’s what I’ve noticed. In December, things clamp up. And I don’t mean just financially. Logistically as well. We’re usually running on less time and less money in month #12, but lots more is generally expected in the holidays. This squeeze usually means we feel a tightening effect on our calendars and wallets. So we clamp up (or down) a bit. Maybe a lot.
Add to that this fact about December: things ramp up, too! The next year is just around the corner, so people are trying to nail down all kinds of things, from next year’s schedules to next year’s deductions to next year’s plans. Seems as though everybody wants a decision yesterday about tomorrow (figure that one out).
In other words, more than any other month, December seems all about details. Christmas lists. Family exchanges. Office parties. Secret Santas. Shopping lists. Department budgets. Decorating demands. Travel needs. Future particulars. Business reports. Year-end evaluations. See what I mean? December is like a major merge of the year’s details.
Here’s the rub. Those details can cramp up our various relationships. And since we don’t normally deal with that many details (every month isn’t like December), we aren’t real good at handling it. We respond too quickly, speak too harshly, ask too insultingly, or decide too rashly. What suffers? Not the details. The relationships. December’s details can take their toll no doubt.
Not to beat this drum too much, but I’ve seen this in happen personally more than I want to admit. My wife and I will be working through a “holiday issue” when, suddenly, a simple difference of opinion about a small thing (what to get a relative, where to put a decoration, etc.) shuts down the whole conversation. Or I’m hammering out financial facts for the upcoming year with our leadership team and, almost without warning, tensions thicken and people start taking sides.
At the root of this relational holiday hemorrhaging, at least in my opinion, is the selfish need to control and manipulate the final elements of the current year. Sure, this is a constant problem in humans, but I think we all want to “finish on top,” so for some reason division seems to be heightened in December. It’s like we think the party ends December 31 and we have to have the silver slipper when the clock strikes midnight.
A simple tip has helped me this year: Look to contribute, not control. So I ask questions that center on how I can help, not on why I think my every detail is being hindered. If I have to my way in every decision or situation in which I am involved, I shouldn’t be surprised if people start pulling away from me relationally, leaving me out of the process all together. If I have to always share my opinion and “be heard,” I’ll probably find myself with no one to talk to at some point. If, as the year draws to a close, I have to make a “last stand” every time I turn around, I’ll probably end up feeling like Custer at Little Big Horn.
I’m not suggesting you become spineless, never expressing strong opinions. But do it in a way – and at a time – when it isn’t relational suicide.
Bottom line? Christmas is the best time to go onto your conversations and encounters knowing that, for whatever reason, people are just a little more “clamped” and “ramped.” So speak and act in ways that relieve relational “cramps.” Think twice before you correct a technicality. Count to a million before you demand uniformity. Wait one more minute before developing an assumption. In light of December’s details, you – and others around you – will be glad you did.
Here’s what I’ve noticed. In December, things clamp up. And I don’t mean just financially. Logistically as well. We’re usually running on less time and less money in month #12, but lots more is generally expected in the holidays. This squeeze usually means we feel a tightening effect on our calendars and wallets. So we clamp up (or down) a bit. Maybe a lot.
Add to that this fact about December: things ramp up, too! The next year is just around the corner, so people are trying to nail down all kinds of things, from next year’s schedules to next year’s deductions to next year’s plans. Seems as though everybody wants a decision yesterday about tomorrow (figure that one out).
In other words, more than any other month, December seems all about details. Christmas lists. Family exchanges. Office parties. Secret Santas. Shopping lists. Department budgets. Decorating demands. Travel needs. Future particulars. Business reports. Year-end evaluations. See what I mean? December is like a major merge of the year’s details.
Here’s the rub. Those details can cramp up our various relationships. And since we don’t normally deal with that many details (every month isn’t like December), we aren’t real good at handling it. We respond too quickly, speak too harshly, ask too insultingly, or decide too rashly. What suffers? Not the details. The relationships. December’s details can take their toll no doubt.
Not to beat this drum too much, but I’ve seen this in happen personally more than I want to admit. My wife and I will be working through a “holiday issue” when, suddenly, a simple difference of opinion about a small thing (what to get a relative, where to put a decoration, etc.) shuts down the whole conversation. Or I’m hammering out financial facts for the upcoming year with our leadership team and, almost without warning, tensions thicken and people start taking sides.
At the root of this relational holiday hemorrhaging, at least in my opinion, is the selfish need to control and manipulate the final elements of the current year. Sure, this is a constant problem in humans, but I think we all want to “finish on top,” so for some reason division seems to be heightened in December. It’s like we think the party ends December 31 and we have to have the silver slipper when the clock strikes midnight.
A simple tip has helped me this year: Look to contribute, not control. So I ask questions that center on how I can help, not on why I think my every detail is being hindered. If I have to my way in every decision or situation in which I am involved, I shouldn’t be surprised if people start pulling away from me relationally, leaving me out of the process all together. If I have to always share my opinion and “be heard,” I’ll probably find myself with no one to talk to at some point. If, as the year draws to a close, I have to make a “last stand” every time I turn around, I’ll probably end up feeling like Custer at Little Big Horn.
I’m not suggesting you become spineless, never expressing strong opinions. But do it in a way – and at a time – when it isn’t relational suicide.
Bottom line? Christmas is the best time to go onto your conversations and encounters knowing that, for whatever reason, people are just a little more “clamped” and “ramped.” So speak and act in ways that relieve relational “cramps.” Think twice before you correct a technicality. Count to a million before you demand uniformity. Wait one more minute before developing an assumption. In light of December’s details, you – and others around you – will be glad you did.
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